As I watched David Villa leave the pitch for the final time, dejected and heartbroken, I knew it was over. All things must come to an end. The curtain closed in the most dramatic fashion over the Spanish national team signifying one of the most inspirational periods of football is truly over. It’s been final for some time, but even more so now — as if, as long as I never typed those words, we would continue existing in a world where Spain was advancing to the round of 16 and beyond.

Sadly, we always knew it would eventually conclude, but never like this. This wasn’t supposed to be how it ended. It was supposed to end with one final run at glory, not utter and complete collapse. This team has given so much that they deserved better than a first round exit. But, as many times as I type it, it’s done. Life goes on. One of the most prolific teams of an era has reached the end of the road.

It’s hard to fathom a world devoid of Xavi and Iniesta’s measured poetry in the midfield. One without Casillas’ poise in front of the net and Fernando Torres’ sporadic moments of brilliance. One without David Villa’s keen ability to score as if his brain, the ball and the back of the net were all one entity and Sergio Ramos’ infuriating ability to be equal parts hilarious and maddening. It’s hard to imagine football without tiki-taka.

Tiki-taka isn’t dead; however, this version is. There was no way Spain could continue to play how they have for the last six years. Time is a fickle beast that kills its young and the football landscape adapted, finally defusing the style of play which had befuddled the world’s best talents for the better part of the last decade.

Their midfield was too old and looked out of sorts from the beginning of the tournament. Their defense seemingly had no answer for the press and counter styles of the Netherlands and Chile. Casillas has reached the end of his prime and hasn’t looked confident for the last two years. Everything that could go wrong did.

It’s a sad way to see a powerhouse come to an end; however, there’s still hope. Even though the present is the lowest of lows, the future for these Spanish men is bright. They have a plethora of young talent at each position waiting in the ranks, dying to prove their worth. Players like David de Gea, Dani Carvajal, Thiago Alcantara, Koke, Jesé — all these names have the potential to carry on the Spanish legacy and create their own in the process.

Perhaps there will be a new manager. At this point, Vincent del Bosque controls his own fate. Perhaps they will move on from tiki-taka and adapt the counter-attacking style the world has come to love. These things are uncertain.

But before we swear in the new guard, let us take a moment to remember those that came before them. Farewell, Tiki-Taka Era, you magisterial enigma. We may never see the likes of you again. Viva la furia roja.