Camavinga and the 'just do your jobs' line: France's tactical gamble on attacking freedom against Belgium

I watched Eduardo Camavinga's press conference from Valencia, a city where I usually stand on the touchline rather than sit in front of a screen. This afternoon, he said a sentence I had to replay three times: “I don't ask attackers to do crazy defensive work. They just need to do their jobs.” When I heard it, I looked out at my balcony, where I still keep the old plastic chair I use to watch youth training sessions. I write slower than a heartbeat to not miss the moment a foot touches the grass, and that sentence was one such moment.

Camavinga did not speak of Belgium with hostility. He spoke about Thibaut Courtois, his Real Madrid teammate, with an easy smile: “Courtois may be absent, but you Belgians still have it stuck in your throats.” That joke will be quoted everywhere, but the real message was in the earlier sentence. It outlines a philosophy forming within France under Zinedine Zidane: a clear division of labour between the defensive line and the attacking line.

Tomorrow evening's match is the group decider. France have just won 1–0 against Turkey. Belgium have just beaten Italy 2–0, a result widely praised by the media. The two teams arrive in different states of mind: France are looking for conviction, Belgium are enjoying confidence.

Zidane is newly installed. Camavinga admitted that facing Zidane is “special and weird”, because the man he once admired as a legend is now the coach. This is a squad still adapting to new authority. Camavinga's words therefore carry more weight than ordinary conversation. They are part of shaping the dressing room.

The tactic Camavinga described is not in the formation. It is in the division of responsibility. The core idea: forwards do not need to chase back and press like animals, they only need to hold their positions, block dangerous passing lanes, and save energy for transitions. The midfield and defensive line must carry the heaviest pressing load. This is a deliberate choice, not laziness.

France are betting on the freshness of their attacking stars. The price is that the first pressing line will be weaker. If the opponent can build out cleanly from their own half, France's midfield could be left in open space. Belgium have the technical quality to do that, especially after scoring twice against Italy.

The 1–0 win over Turkey does not provide enough data to confirm the model. PPDA, xG, and the number of times the opponent bypassed the first line were not published in the original report. From an analytical perspective, a narrow victory shows that attacking freedom has not yet made a decisive difference. One match is not enough to conclude.

Based on my years of experience following matches in Spain, I recognise that statements like “just do your jobs” are rarely meaningless. Top-level football is a game of energy distribution. A team with a high-quality attack will never ask all its stars to sprint back and tackle for 90 minutes. Instead, they use rotating pressing: whoever is closest to the ball presses, the others cover passing lanes. Camavinga's sentence describes a basic principle, but it was said at a sensitive moment, before a decisive match.

Camavinga, as a central midfielder, is sending an internal message: the midfield will take on the defensive duty. He is also preparing a protective shield for his teammates in attack if things go wrong. This fits the image of Zidane's previous teams: solid in defence, free in attack.

Zidane is a symbolic asset. But symbols are double-edged. If France lose to Belgium, the story of the “Zidane era” will face more scrutiny than necessary. Camavinga is using language to lower expectations about the forwards' defensive work, creating a buffer against media pressure.

From outside, Courtois's absence is often seen as an advantage for France. That is a shallow reading. Belgium are not a one-man team. They just beat Italy 2–0 with high confidence. Losing Courtois may make them play deeper and more disciplined, turning the match into an uncomfortable test. Camavinga is also cautious: he jokes, but he never says Belgium are weaker.

The counter-intuitive angle: the “forwards don't press crazily” model is not a privilege, but an acknowledgement of physical limits. If France allow Belgium to keep the ball, their midfield will be stretched. Then what is called “attacking freedom” could become “isolated attackers”. This match will tell us whether Camavinga is describing a wise strategy or a prepared excuse.

In the bars around Mestalla, I always see fans split into two camps before a big match: those who believe in star power and those who believe in structure. This France–Belgium match gives both camps good arguments. I do not take sides; I only record how beer falls and how a generation curses.

The match against Turkey was not a convincing performance. The only goal came from a moment of brilliance, but the report did not include details. The important thing is that France did not create a dominant display. For a team aiming to win titles, a 1–0 result may be acceptable, but the performance inside it remains unverified. This is exactly why the Belgium match is the first real benchmark of the Zidane era.

Belgium also have their own problems. Courtois's absence is not merely losing a world-class goalkeeper; it can change how the team handles set pieces and how they play out from the back. France can exploit this if they maintain pressure in key areas. But if they allow Belgium to control the tempo, that advantage will disappear.

Zidane once built a Real Madrid side that won three consecutive Champions League titles by allowing attacking stars freedom while the midfield worked very hard. Camavinga's idea today mirrors that philosophy. But at national-team level, preparation time is shorter and cohesion is harder. A philosophy that works at club level does not automatically transfer to international football.

What strikes me most is how Camavinga mentioned Courtois as a friend, not an enemy. At the highest level, players also have friendships that cross club lines. I remember afternoons at Mestalla when opposing players hugged after matches. Football is like that. Outsiders want to pick sides, but those inside see a larger community. Camavinga and Courtois wear different national shirts, but they remain teammates in Madrid. That ease shows France's dressing room atmosphere is calm.

However, calm in the press room does not reflect the weight on the pitch. The Belgium match is bigger than three points. It shapes the narrative about Zidane: a perfect start will add authority; a defeat will open the door to doubt. Camavinga seems to understand this. He does not speak about pressure, but every word is intentional.

If I had to pick a number, I would not choose the scoreline. I would choose the average distance between France's two lines when Belgium have the ball. A block that is too deep negates the point of reducing the forwards' pressing workload. A block that is too high creates space behind the midfield. The balance is in the details, and this match will expose all of them.

Fans often ask me: how much stronger are France than Belgium? The answer is that nobody knows. In short tournaments, the difference in real strength is narrowed by fitness, luck, and referees. Belgium have lost to France in the past, but those memories give them extra motivation. Camavinga's joke about Belgians “having it stuck in their throats” acknowledges that this is a tense rivalry. In football, that tension can produce matches far beyond expectations.

Modern football does not allow a team to rely only on inspiration. Even with Zidane, even with the best attacking stars of this generation, structure remains the foundation. Camavinga talks about attackers “doing their jobs”. That job can be selective pressing, occupying space, or preventing the opponent's centre-backs from advancing easily. It all fits under the idea of blocking passing lanes. Outsiders may see forwards walking, but those on the inside know they are standing in exactly the right places to force the opponent into a certain style.

I remember watching a youth training session in Valencia. The coach shouted: “You don't need to run after the ball, you need to run after the space.” That sentence stayed with me. Football is a sport of space. Crazy pressing is one approach, but intelligent positioning is another. France under Zidane seem to choose the latter. The question is whether they have enough discipline to hold that space for 90 minutes against a team like Belgium.

The match against Turkey sent a signal: France won but did not dominate. If they continue to win narrowly against Belgium, the story will remain acceptable. But if they lose, the debate about the balance between freedom and discipline will dominate. Camavinga, at a very young age, is carrying a media role bigger than imagined.

Zidane was a great player, but not every coach can reproduce that success at national team level. He starts with a narrow win and a decisive match. Everything is still forming. Camavinga does not need to protect Zidane, because Zidane has enough reputation to protect himself. He is protecting his teammates up front, and that matters more.

What I want to track is not the score. I want to see how many metres France's forwards run when Belgium build from the back. If they only block passing lanes without engaging in duels, Camavinga's model is working. If Belgium easily play through midfield, the debate about whether forwards should defend will explode right after the final whistle.

Tomorrow evening, I will sit in front of the screen with the same observation method: watching the game through breathing, through movement patterns, through the spaces between lines. One and a half metres from the pitch is enough to feel the breath of the match. There are evenings when I choose to stay at the stadium instead of going home, and in return I find a story no one has told. This match could tell a very long story, or a very short one. The only question: will France stand with freedom, or will they stand with a solid structure?