This was the first meeting between the two sides. And neither team had exactly covered itself in glory at recent World Cups.
France had won only once in their last nine World Cup group-stage matches—that was in 2006, a 2–0 win over Togo.
In their last six World Cup matches, they had scored only a single goal from open play.
After winning the title in 1998, they had failed to score in their opening match for three consecutive World Cups: a 0–1 loss to Senegal in 2002, and two scoreless draws in the other two.
Honduras, meanwhile, had won only once in their last seven matches—a 2–1 home win over Venezuela in March. Away from home, they had won just once in their last eleven.
They had qualified for the World Cup twice but had never won a match. At the previous World Cup in South Africa, they failed to score a single goal.
France kicked off.
Honduras did exactly as expected, setting up a 4-4-2 defensive shape from the very start, dropping everyone back.
All ten outfield players packed into their own half, building two lines of defence anchored around the penalty area.
They wanted to hold off France's attack first. Then see if a chance for a counter would present itself.
It was a reasonable plan—on paper.
In reality, Honduras's conservative defending did nothing to slow France's advance.
Missing Ribéry, France showed no drop-off in attacking quality.
After all, once Julien burst onto the scene, France's attacking focus had never really been Ribéry to begin with.
The interplay between Julien and Griezmann up front had become the blade that tore opposing defences apart.
Add to that Evra and Debuchy, the two fullbacks, constantly overlapping into the attack.
From the very first whistle, France showed a ferocious attacking intent.
Their passing was fluid, their movement remained sharp, and every attack left the Honduran defenders scrambling to keep up.
The offensive had the French fans in the stands roaring.
In the 3rd minute, Julien dropped deep to collect the ball in midfield. Rather than shoot from distance, he slid a soft diagonal pass to the edge of the box on the right. Griezmann read it instantly and surged forward to meet it.
Griezmann took the ball, shrugged off a challenge from a Honduran defender, and drove into the right side of the box. Under pressure, he sent a low cross across the face of goal—but Giroud, arriving in the middle, was a fraction of a second late, and a Honduran defender just managed to hack it behind for a corner.
Barely two minutes later, France came again.
This time it was Evra on the left, pouncing on the fact that Honduras's right back was standing too deep, driving forward along the touchline.
He went all the way to the byline, and with a Honduran defender closing him down, he cut it back with a reverse pass.
Julien arrived right on cue.
Holding off the defender, he met the ball just outside the six-yard box and drove a fierce shot toward goal!
But on this one—Julien leaned on it a touch too hard. He couldn't keep the shot down, and it sailed straight over the bar.
A good chance, wasted.
By now, the Honduran defenders were beginning to look rattled, clearly struggling to live with France's tempo.
In the 8th minute, Julien picked up the ball outside the box and was surrounded by two Honduran players—it looked like he was in trouble.
But with a quick turn, he laid it off behind him to Griezmann and immediately made a run forward. Griezmann, reading his movememnts perfectly, slipped a first-time through ball that split the Honduran defence.
Julien's run put him through on what was almost a one-on-one with the keeper, but rather than go for glory himself, he cleared it across the middle.
Trying to find Giroud, arriving to finish.
Unfortunately, a recovering Honduran centre back threw himself into a desperate tackle and knocked the ball out for a throw-in.
That move alone had completely torn Honduras's defensive shape apart—there was chaos inside the box.
It had also, finally, brought France's attack fully to life.
Watching the ball go astray, Deschamps showed no strong frustration—it was still only a few minutes in, and France were already playing with impressive attacking intent.
This was exactly the momentum he wanted.
Drawing a soft touch for the opening match of this World Cup run mattered enormously for the team's confidence.
Imagine if they'd drawn Spain's fate instead—walking straight into the Netherlands and getting torn apart 5–1. That would have been a disaster.
Over the first ten minutes, France had total control of the game, dominating possession by a wide margin with wave after wave of attack.
Short passes cutting through the lines, constant off-the-ball movement—Honduras's back line was being pulled apart.
Evra and Debuchy overlapping down the flanks only widened the pitch further, leaving Honduras stretched thin and unable to cover everywhere at once.
Honduras, by contrast, could only sit deep and defend, running themselves into the ground trying to block and cover, still unable to hold back the French tide.
On the touchline, the Honduran head coach's face had turned grim.
He wanted to win. But reality was telling him just how difficult that would be.
In the 12th minute, France won the ball back in midfield. Matuidi played a sharp, short pass through to Julien at the edge of the box.
At that moment, four Honduran defenders united on him at once. Midfielders Espinoza and Garrido closed him down from the front, while centre backs Figueroa and Bernárdez tightened up the edge of the box behind them, trying to force him into a corner, to deny him any room to turn or shoot.
To make him pass it away.
But just as everyone expected Julien to lay the ball off and reset the attack, he did something no one saw coming.
Julien took the ball without a flicker of panic, his feet had already adjusted his footing.
He faked a move to the left, drawing the attention of Espinoza and Garrido, and the instant their weight shifted, he suddenly cut back the other way, spinning right and slipping past Garrido with ease.
At the same moment, Griezmann, reading it, made a run forward as if to receive the ball.
The run pulled centre back Figueroa's attention away, opening a sliver of space for Julien.
He seized the fleeting opening!
Julien accelerated, driving the ball straight into the box.
Espinoza scrambled to close him down at full speed, and right back Beckeles cut inside to cover, trying to trap him between the two of them and win the ball.
Facing the crowded defence, Julien stayed impeccably composed.
He shifted left, then right, his feet was moving at a blistering rate, using a feint to wrong-foot Espinoza, then a half-turn to slip clear of Bernárdez.
His balance and ball control were on full display!
And crucially, inside the box, the Honduran defenders didn't dare go in for a full challenge.
Space was already tight to begin with. Add defenders closing in from every side, and there was barely a sliver of room left for a shot.
But drawing on sheer individual quality, Julien kept adjusting through the chaos!
He forced his way through the gaps, hunting for a single opening in the defence!
Julien suddenly dragged the ball in with the sole of his foot, wrenching it clean out from between two defenders.
Then, in an instant, he reset his balance—squared up to goal, and struck a cool, low shot!
Bang!
The strike caught everyone completely off guard.
The ball skimmed the grass, racing for the near post!
Honduran keeper Valladares didn't even have time to react. By the time he saw it, it was already too late.
A visible half-step slow and the ball clipped the inside of the post and went in!
The net rippled!
Goal!
1–0!
As referee Rich signalled the goal, Estádio Beira-Rio Stadium exploded into a deafening roar!
Boom!
BOOM!!
French fans waved their flags and screamed with joy, celebrating the goal.
"Julien!"
"JULIEN!!!"
In the 12th minute, purely through his own individual quality, Julien had broken through a wall of defenders to score—France now led Honduras 1–0!
The moment the ball went in, Julien sprinted straight to the touchline.
He threw his arms wide toward the stands.
A huge grin on his face.
He'd scored!
At the World Cup, no less!
It was his first-ever goal in an official World Cup match.
"Julien!"
Up in the stands, the French fans kept chanting his name.
Celebrating this wild moment right along with him!
Griezmann, Giroud, Varane, and the rest of his teammates all came sprinting over, mobbing Julien in celebration—every one of them was fired up, and for many of them, this was their first World Cup.
And now they'd scored!
The team's morale surged in an instant.
Turns out the World Cup wasn't so tough after all.
Honduras, meanwhile, trudged back to their own half with their heads down, with faces drained of hope.
The players exchanged glances—there was nothing they could say.
They'd thrown everything into shutting him down, and still hadn't been able to stop Julien's break.
Had they actually made some mistake?
Not really.
But Julien had simply found the opening anyway.
On the touchline, the Honduran coach's expression grew even grimmer, shaking his head over and over—whether out of frustration with his team's defending or sheer helplessness at Julien's individual brilliance, it was hard to say.
"GOAL!!!"
Meanwhile, French commentator Alphonse, his voice nearly a scream, was shouting with abandon: "My God! Look at that! Look at Julien!
That is without question the most dazzling solo goal of the World Cup so far!
Pure individual talent, not a shred of luck—entirely off his own ability, Julien ripped that Honduran defence wide open!"
The broadcast replayed Julien's goal from every angle, over and over.
Alphonse's voice kept rising: "Look at that—when Julien took the ball with defenders right in his face, there wasn't a flicker of panic! From the dribble to the finish, every single movement flowed like something out of a textbook!
Absolutely incredible!
The Honduran defenders were made to look completely lost!
His footwork, his ball control, his balance—flawless, every part of it!
This is what you call an artist on the football pitch!
This isn't just a goal—it's a complete solo masterpiece!
Alphonse paused, sounding moved as he added: "And this goal—this is Julien's very first World Cup goal in an official match!
What a perfect way to begin!
His first time on a World Cup pitch, his first goal in an official match, and he does it with a solo strike this stunning, announcing his ability to the entire world—answering every bit of the faith French fans have placed in him!
This goal hasn't just broken the deadlock and given France the lead in their opening group match—it's shown us the future of French football!
Julien is telling us, right now, that even without Ribéry, France still has what it takes to tear defences apart, still has the belief to chase something even greater..."
Out on the pitch—play resumed.
The 1–0 lead had France's morale soaring, but Honduras weren't ready to give up the fight.
Their coach waved frantically from the sideline, trying to organize an attack down the flank, hoping to break the deadlock and scrape one back.
Not long after the restart, Honduras finally put together a threatening move down the wing.
Midfielder Najar won the ball and quickly switched it out to the left, where left back Izaguirre made a run to receive it. Shaking off a light challenge from a French midfielder, he pushed forward fast along the touchline, with Evra tracking him but not committing his body—his pace was the problem, so all he could do was retreat and defend.
Izaguirre looked to feed the ball into the box, searching for forwards Costly and Bengtson.
At that moment—the Honduran players pushed up slightly, hoping this move might turn the tide.
Up in the stands, the Honduran fans roared their support, cheering the team on.
But just as Izaguirre was about to release the pass, Evra who had been shadowing him the whole time—finally made his move, reading his pass perfectly. He stepped in and stuck out a leg.
A clean, decisive interception stripped the ball right off Izaguirre's foot.
That killed Honduras's flank attack dead!
The instant he won the ball, Evra didn't hesitate—he spun and drove forward, launching a quick counter down the left.
By this point—Julien had already read the play and was sprinting up the left flank to support.
Seeing him, Evra immediately laid the ball off to Julien's run.
He knew his own pace couldn't match Julien's, so he got the ball moving forward as fast as he could to fuel the counter.
The moment Julien received it, he hit the accelerator, and with his pace—he instantly opened up a gap on Honduras's recovering right back, Beckeles. Beckeles gave everything chasing back but could never close the distance, forced to watch helplessly as Julien powered down the flank.
Julien tore straight through Honduras's flank defence.
He drove all the way to the byline on the left edge of the box, and with centre back Figueroa scrambling across to cover, he quickly adjusted his body position and whipped in a high-quality curling cross!
The ball sailed over the defender, heading straight for the middle of the box!
At that moment—Giroud, already arriving from the counter, had claimed a prime position in the middle of the box. He rose high to meet the ball and threw his head at it with everything he had!
He powered it straight toward goal!
The ball rocketed toward the Honduran net. Valladares threw himself desperately at it, but it was too close—there was nothing he could do, and the ball hit the back of the net!
The net rippled!
Another one!
2–0!
"GOAL! Another goal!" Alphonse's shout rang out again, full of excitement. "The 15th minute! A header from Giroud! France now lead Honduras 2–0! Just fifteen minutes in, and thanks to goals from Julien and Oliver, We already have a two-goal cushion—this is simply incredible!"
Estádio Beira-Rio Stadium erupted into celebration once again!
Giroud, unable to hold back his emotion after scoring, threw his arms wide and sprinted straight toward the French fans' section, his face lit up with pure joy.
His fists clenched tight, he let out a roar, releasing everything he'd been holding in!
This, too, was his first-ever goal in an official World Cup match.
The joy of it was enough to make him want to celebrate with everything he had.
Julien was right behind him, catching up in a few quick lunges. He wrapped his arms around Giroud from behind and pounded him hard on the chest.
Giroud turned around and pulled Julien into a tight hug, his voice cracking just slightly: "Julien! Thank you for that cross! That's my first World Cup goal too!"
Julien grinned and nodded. "And that's my first assist too. About time—and this is only the beginning!"
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