América and the teams they have beaten most in Liga MX: a ledger written over 110 years

I wrote that number into my second notebook — the one reserved for figures that make me pause longer than usual — on a rainy afternoon in Busan, after my training-ground shift had emptied and the rain on the vacant stands sounded like applause from people without names. The number was 75. Seventy-five times Atlas have been beaten by Club América in Liga MX history. An empty stadium still carries the beat of a match — and sometimes that beat rings out even from numbers long retired.

I must confess this before continuing: I am suspicious of lists like this. The habit of a training-ground observer — someone who has spent most of a career writing down only what eyes saw and ears heard before permitting himself a single sentence — makes me ask the first question always: where does this number come from, who counted it, within what scope. The list of teams América have beaten most does not cite a source. The headline promises ten teams; the content names only five. For others, that might be a reason to put the pen down. For me, it is a reason to pick it up — because when data is missing, the empty half of the story is often more interesting than the told half.

So let us start with what is certain, even if it comes from historical ledgers rather than any modern data room. Club América turned 110 — a century and a half of because, of why, of trophies stacked in Coapa, where they play in blue and cream. They position themselves as one of the most important clubs in Mexican football, and in this case, that self-positioning is hard to dispute. Across Liga MX history, the five teams they have beaten most: Atlas, 75 defeats; Monterrey, 72; Chivas Guadalajara, 69; Pumas UNAM, 61; Cruz Azul, 59.

Five numbers, five very different stories.

Atlas leads. That may raise an eyebrow from anyone who does not follow Mexican football closely — Atlas are not the most decorated club. But if you have ever stood at a small training ground and counted how often a pairing meets within a decade, you understand: accumulated wins do not measure superiority, they measure frequency of meetings plus time spent coexisting. Atlas are a traditional club with a long top-flight history, and a long-serving opponent will rack up more defeats — simply because they meet more often. This is what I underline in my notebook: this list is, first, a map of frequency and longevity, not a map of strength; to know whom América have truly dominated per match, the data must be normalized by matches played — and nobody has done that.

Monterrey in second place with 72 defeats is the most intriguing figure from that angle. Monterrey are a modern-era power — their strength grew mainly in recent decades, when Mexican football entered the digital broadcast era and the transfer market widened. A club with a shorter history sitting second on the list of most-defeated means that within a much shorter window, they have loaded nearly as many defeats as Atlas needed almost a century to accumulate. If I were the one building spreadsheets, this row would be first to convert into a per-match win rate. I suspect — and I only dare call it suspicion, as my years in K League 2 taught me — that once normalized, Monterrey would climb to the top of the list. Are they, per meeting, América's most consistent victims? Let me check again. But my notebook has this page folded at two corners.

Then Chivas, Pumas, Cruz Azul — this is where the numbers touch people, and that is why I stayed with this piece longer than planned.

Chivas have been beaten 69 times. But the number alone does not tell it all. Chivas are the other half of El Clásico Nacional — Mexico's biggest fixture, the derby between the only club fielding only Mexican players and the club symbolizing the capital's power. In 2026, the two met in the Final of the Century, and América won. Ever since, every time they meet, 2026 resurfaces — mentioned politely by the Eagles, rubbed raw by the Chivas side. I have watched Korean fans forget half a chant when their team loses a derby in stoppage time, and I understand that derby defeats are not stored in ledgers — they are stored in the body. Sixty-nine times. I wrote the number three times in my notebook, and the third time my hand stopped. It is not merely 69 defeats. It is 69 Monday mornings when half of Guadalajara went to work wearing a heavy face.

Pumas UNAM — the university team, as Mexicans call it with affection — have lost 61 times, including three finals. Cruz Azul, the Machine, have lost 59, and they have lost to América in more finals than to anyone else: four. Three of the four historic powers of Mexican football — three of the so-called Big Four — sit among the five teams América have beaten most. That is the strongest signal this list sends: América's dominance does not concentrate on weak opponents. It concentrates precisely on the fixtures that define the league, the ones a whole nation stops to watch.

Busan is no stage lights, but it taught me how to keep the beat. In K League 2, I followed a side that played 36 matches, scored 52 goals and still missed promotion by four points — that year I learned the table tells only half the story, and the other half lives in frequency, in scheduling, in things that never appear on the scoreboard yet decide everything. América's list reminds me of that old lesson. It tells us a club mightily dominant across Liga MX history — but it does not tell us: how many times have those opponents beaten América back? If the five have lost 75, they have perhaps won a few dozen of their own. A piece that lists only wins and omits losses is a mirror that reflects one side of a face — and such a mirror flatters the person looking, not the story.

That is the part I must handle most carefully. It is easy to read this list and conclude América are the nightmare of Mexican football. But if the headline promises ten teams and we have seen only five, then five names and five stories remain untold. Which sides sit between 40 and 55 defeats without making the featured names? León? Toluca? Tigres? I dare not fill them in — the data does not permit it, and I learned in Russia in 2026, standing in the mixed zone after South Korea beat Germany 2-0 and hearing the head coach say they won because the players believed in each other, that the best stories come from waiting a little longer before speaking. Football does not lie — but unsourced lists sometimes lie on its behalf.

One more thing goes into the notebook, in red ink: the fact that a club can exist 110 years and accumulate hundreds of wins against its rivals is proof of something smaller leagues — including my Vietnamese V-League — are still learning: long-running rivalries do not weaken a league, they give it memory. El Clásico Nacional is not just two clubs meeting. It is a commercial legacy: it sells tickets, sells broadcast rights, keeps both fanbases engaged through the worst seasons of their teams. Three of América's rivals on this list have lost finals to them — Pumas three times, Cruz Azul four — and those final defeats, ironically, fuel every derby that follows. Memories of defeat create tension; tension creates audiences; audiences create a league. The silence of 2026 taught me that silence, too, is a form of support; this list taught me that even defeat is a way of feeding a league.

So what do we take away when the notebook closes?

Three things, I believe. First, América's historic dominance in Liga MX is real, but it is measured in volume — cumulative wins over 110 years — not yet in density. Until someone converts 75, 72, 69, 61 and 59 into per-match rates, Monterrey is the name that keeps me up at night. Second, América's standing in the big fixtures — Chivas, Pumas, Cruz Azul — is not just statistics, it is a psychological edge spanning decades, the kind of edge no player is born with but all inherit when they pull on the shirt. Third, and this one I send especially to football data people back home: a number without a source is not data, it is word of mouth that got typed. Before citing 75 wins over Atlas, verify against Liga MX's official records — as I do with every number in my two notebooks.

A South Korean cried for Vietnamese football. That is a shared beat. And perhaps that is why Mexicans keep retelling 2026 every time they face Chivas — because football, anywhere, is not about winning and losing. It is about numbers written down for the next generation, so they know that before they arrived, there were beats like these in this place.

Not every match has an audience. But every match has someone keeping the beat — and today, that keeper counted 75, 72, 69, 61 and 59, then wondered: where does the rest of the ten-name list live? If the complete list ever surfaces, I will be the one sitting down in Busan, opening the second notebook, and writing on. Every player has their own beat. I only look for where it starts — and for América, that beat began 110 years ago, and has not stopped.