Olise's 13 Minutes and the Moment Zidane Named His Successor

Thirteen Minutes That Made an Evening

In the 77th minute of the France–Belgium match, Michael Olise took off his training top and stepped to the touchline. In the stands, eighty thousand spectators had no idea what they were about to witness. The score was still 0-0. Zinedine Zidane's France were stuck against a tightly organised Belgian defence shaped by Mark van Bommel — a man who had just suffered his first defeat as head coach and was under pressure to prove himself.

Then, in the 88th minute, Olise won the ball. He controlled it with his shoulder, drove down the right flank, beat De Cuyper, cut inside and shot low. The ball hit the net. Eleven minutes after he came on. Thirteen minutes in total on the pitch. One goal. One moment. And then, a legend began to speak.

When the final whistle blew, Zidane walked to the touchline. He did not leap into the air. He simply nodded at Olise, and later, in front of the cameras, called the young player "an extraordinary talent." For a man who lifted the World Cup in 2026, that sentence weighs more than any statistic.

Some goals are scored with the feet, and some are scored with the head. I had heard that line long ago, but only on that night did I understand how true it was.

The Journey of a Boy Born in 2026

To understand why those thirteen minutes resonated, we need to look at the road Olise has travelled. Born in London in 2026, Olise grew up in the academies of Reading and Chelsea before shining in a Crystal Palace shirt. In the summer of 2026, Bayern Munich signed him for a reported fee of around 53 million euros. For a German giant, that is not an enormous figure — but it showed how the professional world rated his potential.

And Olise has repaid that trust. Four goals in four Bundesliga matches. A rate that even Europe's top strikers would envy. That is the more reliable sample — not thirteen minutes on the international stage, but a sustained run of club form where he must prove himself every week.

Based on my experience following matches, I have noticed one thing: players who grow up in English football usually carry directness and pace. Olise is no exception. But he has something more that many of his peers lack: calmness in decisive moments.

Meanwhile, France entered a major tournament under Zidane's new era. After years under Didier Deschamps, Les Bleus turned a new page — one where people expect a football that is both disciplined and free-flowing, true to the legendary number 10. And Olise scoring his first goal under Zidane carries a symbolic weight greater than an ordinary goal.

A Group That Allows No One to Sleep

The group France found themselves in was seen as a mini group of death: France, Italy, Belgium and Turkey. It is a rare combination at international level, with four historically deep football nations drawn together.

After two rounds, France top the group with a perfect 6 points. Italy sit second with 3 points on goal difference. Belgium are third, also on 3 points, after their first defeat under van Bommel. Turkey occupy the remaining position.

In such a group, every goal is worth double. Belgium in third must win their remaining matches to keep hope alive. Italy, level on points but ahead on goal difference, cannot afford complacency. And France, despite leading, cannot yet say goodbye to the knockout stage.

In football, people often say: champions know how to win even when playing badly. But there is another truth: champions know how to win through a system, not just through moments. And that is the question facing Zidane's France.

The Tactical Core: Olise, the Space-Hunter

Olise's goal against Belgium is a classic counter-attacking template. He won the ball, controlled it with his shoulder, drove down the right flank, beat De Cuyper, cut inside and shot low. It was not a possession-based passing move. It was a transition from defence to attack in under five seconds.

Modern wingers are being homogenised into a single formula: invert inside, receive from deep, and join the possession structure. It is a safe, efficient profile — but also a predictable one. Michael Olise is not quite that. He is a direct winger — a player who lives on the space behind the defensive line, not on safe passes.

What stands out is Olise's processing speed. In the goalscoring moment, he had under two seconds to decide between a cross and a shot. He chose to shoot. The finish was low, sharp, into the corner a goalkeeper hates most. No showmanship, no frills — just efficiency.

Compared with De Cuyper, Belgium's left-back, the weakness Olise exploited becomes clearer. De Cuyper is an attacking full-back, good going forward but limited in his ability to recover pace when countered. Olise understood that. He did not try to out-sprint him over a short distance; he carried the ball wide, forced the defender to change direction, and cut inside as De Cuyper lost momentum.

This is exactly what Zidane highlighted: reading the game, knowing when to attack and when to drop. He did not praise Olise's pace. He praised his game intelligence. In elite football, intelligence always outlasts the legs.

A Diary from an Observer

I sat in front of the screen watching this match from start to finish, and what caught my attention was not the goal, but how Olise moved without the ball. In those thirteen minutes, he ran relentlessly, constantly pressuring the Belgian defence, constantly calling for the ball from midfield. A player coming on in the 77th minute usually chooses a safe approach to avoid mistakes. Olise did the opposite. He played as if he had been on the pitch from the first minute. That is a rare quality. And it explains why Zidane had to speak.

The Modern Winger Debate

For years, I have argued that inverted wingers are homogenising football. When everyone wants to be a number 10 shifted wide, we gradually lose traditional wingers — players who live by hugging the touchline, beating full-backs and crossing. Olise is one of the few young players who still retains that instinct, even if he also knows how to cut inside when needed. That is why I believe he will go far.

The Contrarian Angle: The Trap of Thirteen Minutes

But wait. Before calling Olise Zidane's successor, we must ask an uncomfortable question: are thirteen minutes enough to build a legend?

The honest answer is no. A goal in thirteen minutes is a beautiful moment, but it is not a large enough sample to conclude anything. The more trustworthy signal lies in four goals in four Bundesliga matches — a sustained run of club form. Relying only on thirteen minutes means reading football with emotion rather than reason.

There is a paradox in how the media builds the super-sub story. When a player comes off the bench and shines, he is instantly called a secret weapon. But if that same player starts and plays poorly, he is labelled not good enough. The truth lies somewhere between those extremes.

France beat Belgium through a goal by a player who played only thirteen minutes. That is both a sign of efficiency and a sign of a problem: France's attack cannot yet convert dominance into goals convincingly. If every win depends on an individual's flash of brilliance, that team is walking a tightrope.

When the pitch falls silent, we finally hear football's sigh. And within that sigh lies a coach's worry — the knowledge that his victory is more fragile than its glittering surface.

The pressure on Zidane is not small. He arrived at the France job as a legend, and in France, legends are not allowed to fail. Olise's first goal under him is a positive signal, but it also raises expectations for the matches ahead.

On Belgium's side, the first defeat under van Bommel is a psychological fracture. Third on 3 points, they must win their remaining games. That pressure can forge a breakthrough, or it can crush a squad in transition. In football, pressure is a double-edged sword: it sharpens the will, or it severs confidence.

From another angle, the shock Belgium is enduring is not a miracle by their opponents, but the inevitable consequence of failing to hold their defensive structure when countered. Elite football does not forgive complacency.

What Remains After Thirteen Minutes

Olise's thirteen minutes will be remembered. Perhaps for a week, a year, or a decade. But whether he becomes part of French football history does not depend on that 88th minute. It depends on the matches ahead — where there are no surprises, no flashes of brilliance, only endurance and intelligence.

Football is not read through the scoreline, but through the heartbeat of the hearts in the stands. That night, tens of thousands of French hearts skipped a beat — for a 24-year-old who came on in the 77th minute and scored in the 88th.

Writing about football means sitting with people, listening to them tell the story of the match where they were once themselves. And Olise's story, that night, is a story about how one person can change the course of events in a single moment.

The open question remains: is Olise the final piece in Zidane's dream, or merely a beautiful moment that time will dust over? The answer does not lie in the thirteen minutes that have passed. It lies in the matches yet to come.