Zubeldía, the enchantment and the labyrinth | OneFootball

There was a time—not so long ago—when Zubeldía’s name was spoken in the corridors of Brazilian sports journalism as one of the season’s bright spots. People said, rightly so, that Fluminense were playing the best football in Brazil. A well-organized team, with identity, a clear approach and, above all, results—which backed up the narrative. The Argentine arrived at Laranjeiras with an air of renewal, replacing Renato Gaúcho, who was leaving the post, and at first delivered exactly what he had promised.

But football, like life, does not forgive those who stand still in time.

In the view of the one writing these lines, Zubeldía’s biggest problem today is not slow thinking. It is not lack of preparation. It is something deeper and, paradoxically, harder to fix: the inability to abandon the plan drawn up, regardless of what the game is telling him.

The impression I get is that nothing happening before his eyes—and those of his coaching staff—will be able to dissuade him from following, to the letter, what was laid out in his game plan. And that intrigues me greatly. If even a flight plan, for example, is changed whenever necessary to avoid storms or other setbacks, I do not understand what keeps our manager tied to his own plan.

The world may be falling apart on the pitch—a holding midfielder one booking away from suspension, a player clearly having an off day, the opponent exploiting a space that cries out for correction—and the coach remains unmoved, waiting for the moment he himself scheduled to act. Usually 30 minutes into the second half, usually doing exactly what he had already decided before the opening whistle. Context, for him, seems to be nothing more than noise.

That is not conviction. It seems to me more like stubbornness disguised as method.

It is only fair to be balanced in the analysis: Zubeldía had a preseason. He had a strong voice in building the squad. Fluminense signed one of the top attacking midfielders currently playing in South American football, an international-caliber full-back, a standout center-back, another center-back with international experience, and a center-forward—a good header of the ball, but one who, when he leaves the penalty area, alternates between very good and very poor moments. He had conditions that many coaches in Brazilian football do not even dream of having. The structure to build something solid was there, and he used it well—for a while.

For that very reason, it is hard to accept such a sharp decline. The postponement of the derby against Flamengo, the wear and tear of travel, the noise off the pitch—none of that, separately or together, is enough to dismantle a team that was working, that had soul, that had a style of play. Teams with a real identity withstand turbulence. On the other hand, teams that depend exclusively on a predetermined script do not.

What we have seen for about a month and a half now is a Fluminense side that seems to have lost its guiding thread. And that thread was in the coach’s hands.

Let’s be direct: Fluminense, based on the football they are playing today, do not deserve a place in the Libertadores. That is not cruelty—it is a diagnosis. If they were playing at the level they once showed, they would be in a different position in the table. Qualification, when it comes without merit, is a lucky break. And luck does not build a project.

The good news? There is still time. The championship is not over, and the squad has quality. With that in mind, what should our coach do?

The most honest answer is also the simplest: sit down, look inward, and ask what has changed.

Has the formula that worked stopped being put into practice? Then he needs to go back to the roots, recover the principles that made that team so beautiful to watch. Or does that model no longer work because the opponents have figured it out? Then it is time to innovate, to surprise, to show that there is more than one layer to this work.

Talking to the squad’s leaders is not weakness—it is intelligence. Recovering the calm that has always been his trademark is not complacency—it is a necessity. The Tricolor supporters need to dream again, and that dream must, inevitably, pass across the desk of a coach who needs to find himself again.

Only he has the answer. There is just one detail: the calendar will not wait.

This article was translated into English by Artificial Intelligence. You can read the original version in 🇧🇷 here.