Borja back on Colombia's radar: One goal, age 33, and Lorenzo's philosophy

One goal. Only one goal. But some goals do more than change the scoreline — they pull an entire career back into the light. Miguel Borja had just scored against Chivas in the Clásico Nacional, and suddenly the 33-year-old's name returned to a Colombia national team press conference. Coach Néstor Lorenzo promised nothing — he simply admitted Borja remains "on the radar." That alone, for a striker who has already passed his peak, was enough to light a late spring. Lorenzo spoke before the friendly between Mexico and Colombia, while reviewing talent from several leagues, including Liga MX. When asked about Borja — a forward he has known since the Jose Pékerman era — his answer fit into a single philosophy: age is not an obstacle, as long as the player maintains the ability to make a difference in the box. Alongside Borja, Lorenzo praised two young players, Óscar Perea and Daniel Arcila, for their "freshness and ambition to finish the play." Experience on one side, hunger on the other — his selection picture is much broader than one name. I have followed South American football for more than five decades, and the reason Lorenzo's statement stopped me was not Borja's goal, but the phrase "as long as." He did not say "Borja is in good form"; he said "as long as he keeps the ability to make a difference in the box." That is the language of a man who selects by role, not by age. Borja belongs to the classic No.9 profile — little running, little build-up, but when the ball appears in the box, he strikes with the instinct of a predator. Such players depend on service and on the feeling of being trusted. Lorenzo knows this because he has known Borja since Pékerman's era — not from a video clip, but from training sessions, matches, and moments when the player broke down or rose again. When a coach says "when he gets continuity and confidence, he is a lethal goalscorer," he is describing a long relationship, not a statistics report. At 33, Borja has entered the phase I often call "the cracks of fate" — the body no longer answers as fast as the mind wishes, injuries heal slowly, and reputation fades. I once wrote that Modric does not run; he dances on the cracks of fate. Borja does not dance the way Modric dances; he stands there, inside the box, waiting for the moment. And that waiting is exactly what makes him dangerous. A striker like Borja does not need to run much — he needs one movement, one touch, one finish. If a team builds its play around set pieces and crosses into the box, a stationary Borja is still more frightening than a young runner who hurts no one. Some may ask: what basis is there to say Borja still deserves it? A goal? The data in the article stops there — one goal, one compliment, one nod from the coach. But the value of a player does not live on paper; it lives in the nights they stay awake for the stands. I look into the eyes of old strikers — they no longer know how to pretend. When Borja talks about scoring, he speaks with the hunger of a man who has lost everything. And to a coach like Lorenzo, that can matter more than any metric. Data can measure touches, but it cannot measure the moment a striker chooses his position before the ball arrives. Borja belongs to that unquantifiable side of football. Lorenzo also mentioned Perea and Arcila — two young players in Liga MX. This detail carries more meaning than people assume. It shows he is running two parallel tracks: one is the immediate solution — a No.9 who finds space in the box; the other is a new energy source — players with freshness and desire to express themselves. That philosophy reflects a reality of modern football: national teams no longer build squads by age, but by specific roles in each match. Calling up Borja does not mean placing the future on the shoulders of a 33-year-old; it simply adds an option for matches that need cold blood in front of goal. Liga MX, in my view, is a door many South American players walk through without realizing its value. People dream of Europe, but in Mexico they still play in packed stadiums, earn good salaries, and remain watched by national-team coaches every week. Borja does not need a flashy transfer to be remembered. Miracles do not need a passport — a goal against Chivas in the Clásico Nacional carries as much weight as a hat-trick in the Champions League, if you know how to read it. But I have not come to celebrate a moment. What bothers me is how we — people of football — easily give one goal the power to erase everything. One match, one finish, and the story "retired" turns into "comeback." If Borja is not called up in the next squad, will people say Lorenzo betrayed a promise? If he is called up and does not score, will a 33-year-old striker become a scapegoat? That is the hype-to-kill cycle I have witnessed dozens of times in my career: the louder the praise, the harder the fall. There is a small detail in this story that few people notice. While the article refers to the Clásico Nacional between América and Chivas, the accompanying photo caption calls it the Clásico Joven — the match between América and Cruz Azul. An editing mix-up, a tiny detail. But it reminds me that what we call "media truth" is often woven from imperfect fragments. We believe a story because it is told beautifully, not because it is accurate. And the price of that belief, sometimes, is a career pushed to the top and thrown down a cliff for a lucky finish. A goal has never been the same as form. Borja may still be a killer, but if he does not play regularly at club level, the "continuity" Lorenzo mentions will remain a promise. At 33, Borja needs regular minutes more than ever. Lorenzo's choice — if it comes — will show whether he trusts a role, a moment, a specific person; if not, we have just witnessed a beautiful piece of transfer-window noise. Football history is full of strikers forgotten right after a great goal, because this game does not feed anyone on memories. The grass never gets old; only we fade with the seasons. Borja, at 33, can still be a dancer in the box — but that dancer needs a stage, needs matches, needs a coach brave enough to look at ability instead of papers. When Colombia's next squad list is announced, we will know whether Lorenzo truly believes what he says, or is merely being polite to an old acquaintance. For now, before discussing the future, let a goal be a goal.