"Es algo que nos ha hecho entender que estarás en la cancha peleando por un hermano, por un compañero. Nos dará una fuerza extra," Israel Reyes said straightaway about Mexico’s unusually long pre-World Cup concentration, putting the work’s purpose in plain, personal terms.
Reyes, a Club América defender, has been one of the players living the experiment Aguirre ordered: a camp that began on May 6 at the coach’s request and, Reyes stressed, has become more than drills and tactics. "Nos hemos entendido bastante. De repente estamos dos días o tres en todo el año y resulta que no conoces nada de su vida; nos ha unido mucho más, igual la parte de Javier [Aguirre] que le gusta hacer grupo, estar en esa conexión entre todos," he added, framing the month-long stay as deliberate group-building.
The arithmetic is simple and immediate: the concentration started on May 6 and, Reyes said, the squad has now had more than 30 days training together — a stretch that ends with Mexico’s opening match at the World Cup 2026 on June 11 in Mexico City against South Africa. Mexico’s group schedule then sends them to Guadalajara to face South Korea before a final group game against the Czech Republic back in the capital.
Those facts give weight to Reyes’s claim. He insists the extra time created human familiarity — teammates who know birthdays, families and small habits — and that translates into how they will behave on the pitch: not as isolated professionals but as players willing to fight for one another.
Context sharpens what Reyes is selling. Javier Aguirre has intentionally assembled a prolonged camp to prepare his squad for the tournament, and Reyes credits that management style with knitting the roster closer. That approach establishes chemistry as an explicit objective, not an incidental byproduct of a few training sessions or friendlies.
But the move has not been universally embraced. The extended concentration has been criticized by some fans and Liga MX coaches, who argued the start was premature and questioned whether a month away from club rhythms was the right call. That objection is the clearest counterpoint to Reyes’s account: chemistry built in a bubble can look like overreach to outsiders who fear fatigue or disruption to club form.
The tension matters because it converts an internal team dynamic into a public debate over preparation and risk. Reyes offers a metric of success that is not a stat line: trust. He sees teammates understanding each other "on a human level," and believes that will produce a measurable edge when the whistle blows. Skeptics measure success in results against club obligations, minutes, or sharpness against top opponents after such a long concentrated stint.
What will make the differences visible is practical and immediate. Mexico’s first scheduled test of the experiment comes in Mexico City on June 11 against South Africa. Reyes’s pitch — a squad that will run for the man next to him because they know his life, his wife, his kids, his story — will be evaluated not in locker-room warmth but in duels, recoveries and game situations where cohesion either prevents or produces mistakes.
If Aguirre’s insistence on a long camp has truly turned individuals into teammates who fight like brothers, Reyes’s words will look prescient; if it has simply delayed club time without adding competitive gain, the criticism from fans and Liga MX coaches will harden. Until the opening whistle, Reyes’s version of the camp remains the team’s best argument: more than 30 days together has given them something he says cannot be taught in two training sessions — the conviction to defend each other on the field.
