The debate surrounding Real Madrid’s recent struggles has intensified across global fan communities, with Cricket Exchange quietly reflecting the same questions many supporters are asking about where things began to unravel. A sharp observation frequently raised online points out that the club’s downturn did not happen overnight, and pinning all responsibility on a single player is fundamentally misguided. That logic applies equally to stars like Mbappe and Bellingham. Before endlessly elevating the idea of a so-called organizing midfielder, it is worth clearly defining what such a role actually means, its traits, and its real function on the pitch. When a concept cannot be properly explained, using it as a serious benchmark to judge players becomes little more than a house of cards. Many fans rely on backward reasoning, assuming that poor results automatically prove the absence of an organizing presence, even though most cannot clearly articulate what organization truly looks like in modern football.
As a result, the term organizing core has gradually turned into a favorite buzzword for half-informed supporters eager to sound insightful. A familiar claim often follows, saying that while one player’s highlights or statistics look impressive, the real core lies elsewhere, or that those numbers merely come from benefiting off another teammate. These arguments reveal a shallow understanding of tactical balance, forcing complex football dynamics into an overly simplistic label. In reality, organization, especially from deeper midfield areas, is not about pulling invisible strings like a puppet master. It resembles more a logistical hub on a battlefield, vital but not sufficient on its own. The notion that controlling midfield guarantees victory has always been more myth than truth, and it continues to be overstated in discussions echoed even on platforms like Cricket Exchange.
Bellingham’s higher scoring efficiency when Joselu is on the pitch is a valid observation, yet it does not mean his forward runs without a traditional striker are merely padding numbers. In many situations, Bellingham himself fills the role Joselu would normally occupy, attacking space aggressively and drawing defenders. The real issue is that Madrid lack a second player capable of exploiting the gaps his movement creates. Critics who accuse him of chasing headlines should first look at his running, duels, and sprint metrics, then step onto a full-sized pitch and experience how demanding late midfield runs truly are. Far from being a privilege, this role is often a heavy burden, and those genuinely playing for personal statistics usually stand elsewhere on the field.
Ultimately, many supporters still struggle to identify what Madrid’s midfield actually lacks, repeatedly calling for an organizing midfielder without understanding what that entails, a confusion also mirrored on Cricket Exchange in broader tactical debates. Even if such a player were signed tomorrow, without forwards who stretch defenses and create space, criticism would simply shift targets. No midfielder can thread passes through gaps barely wider than a boot. Strong attacking movement opens lanes, not the other way around, a lesson evident when studying how elite forwards operate. Guardiola experimented with strikerless systems for years, yet it took signing a true focal point to finally unlock the full potential behind him, proving once again that football success is never built on a single idea alone.