The question hangs in the air, almost tangible, as the Chilean coastal fog settles over the training grounds: Can the Chile national football team reclaim its Copa América glory? It’s a query that goes beyond simple tactics or player form; it taps into the very soul of a generation that witnessed the impossible become routine. As someone who has followed this team’s arc from the perennial “nearly-men” to the back-to-back champions of 2015 and 2016, and now back into a period of searching, I find the current moment uniquely compelling. It’s a test of legacy, of identity, and of whether the fierce competitive fire that defined that golden era can be reignited. I remember the sheer, unadulterated will of those teams—the way Arturo Vidal would seemingly cover every blade of grass, or how Gary Medel’s defensive fury became a national symbol. That wasn’t just skill; it was a state of mind. And it’s that very mindset echoed in the words of a modern leader, perhaps a player like veteran goalkeeper Claudio Bravo, who might say, as our reference knowledge poignantly captures, “At the end of the day, just coming out and competing, giving it all that I can. That usually takes over anything else. Just playing to compete and playing to win.” This philosophy is the non-negotiable starting point for any Chilean redemption story.

The statistical reality, however, presents a stark contrast to the memories. Since lifting the trophy in the United States in 2016, Chile’s Copa América journey has been one of frustration. A group-stage exit in 2019, a quarter-final loss to Brazil in 2021—these are results that feel alien for a squad once considered the continent’s apex predator. The core of that legendary team, the so-called “Golden Generation,” has aged. Key figures like Vidal (now 37), Medel (36), and Bravo (41) are in the twilight of their careers, and while their leadership is invaluable, the physical demands of a tournament are relentless. The transition has been rocky. For a period, the team seemed caught between honoring its past and building its future, leading to inconsistent performances and a worrying drop in FIFA ranking, plummeting to as low as 42nd in late 2022, a far cry from their peak of 3rd in 2016. The search for a new attacking talisman to replace the irreplaceable Alexis Sánchez in his prime has been particularly acute. While Sánchez himself, now 35, remains a crucial piece, the burden cannot be his alone. This is where the new guard must step up. Players like Ben Brereton Díaz, with his 4 goals in 27 caps, offer a different profile, but the integration has been a process. The midfield, once the engine room of world-beaters, now relies on the emerging talent of players like 24-year-old Marcelino Núñez at Norwich City to provide the dynamism and creativity that Vidal and Charles Aránguiz once did in their pomp.

Yet, to write off Chile based solely on a generational transition and recent results would be a mistake. Football isn’t played on spreadsheets. The Copa América, especially, is a tournament of pressure, passion, and moments of individual brilliance. Chile still possesses those potential moment-makers. The sheer competitive spirit, that garra chilena, is a cultural trait, not a generational one. I believe it’s teachable. When a young player lines up alongside Bravo, who has seen it all, and hears him talk about just “coming out and competing,” that ethos transfers. It becomes part of the fabric. Look at the emergence of Víctor Dávila, whose move to CSKA Moscow for a fee around €4.5 million signals his rising stock; his direct running and eye for goal could be a secret weapon. Furthermore, the draw and the format of a tournament can be a great equalizer. A single victory against a heavyweight like Argentina or Brazil in a knockout match can change the entire narrative overnight. Chile has done it before, famously in the 2015 and 2016 finals against Argentina. They know the recipe for tournament success isn’t always being the best team over a year, but being the most resilient, focused, and fiercely competitive team over 90 minutes, six times. Manager Eduardo Berizzo faces the monumental task of blending the old warrior spirit with new tactical ideas. His system must protect an aging defense while unleashing the pace of the younger attackers. It’s a tightrope walk, but not an impossible one.

So, can they do it? My heart, steeped in the memories of Santiago and New Jersey, wants to shout “yes” without hesitation. My analyst’s mind is more cautious. The path to the 2024 Copa América title is undoubtedly steeper than it was eight years ago. The competition has evolved. Argentina are world champions, Brazil are perpetually stacked with talent, and even nations like Uruguay and Colombia look formidable. Chile is no longer the hunter; they are, in a sense, being hunted as a former champion. The margin for error is vanishingly small. However, I have a strong preference for teams built on intangibles, and Chile’s greatest asset remains its mentality. The quote we began with isn’t about flawless technique; it’s about a promise of effort, a covenant with the jersey. If Berizzo can successfully harness that raw, competitive desire from the old guard and instill it into the new, they become a dangerous wildcard. They may not have the deepest squad, with an average age I’d estimate at a transitional 28.7 years, but they can have the hardest-working one. Reclaiming glory might not mean dominating the tournament from start to finish as they once did. It might look grittier, more dramatic—a run built on defensive solidarity, heroic goalkeeping, and stealing a crucial goal. In the end, the question of reclaiming Copa América glory for Chile hinges less on a perfect tactical blueprint and more on whether they can collectively embody that simple, powerful idea: just playing to compete, and playing to win. If that fire still burns as brightly as it did a decade ago, then no one will relish facing La Roja. And in the knockout chaos of a continental championship, that might just be enough.