There’s an old adage reserved for the very best in football that probably, like all old adages ostensibly saved for the very best in football, gets banded about far too often. “He’d get in any team in the world, Clive/Macca/Martin, and he’d make em better.” As adages go, it’s a good one because—if used correctly—it’s a genuine barometer for quality and functionality within a team. In a way, it’s kind of like the All-NBA first team; some people use it to cram a bunch of similar players into one team, while others calibrate it with genuine team chemistry in mind. In any case, however you’re doing it, Chelsea’s N’Golo Kante fits the bill. He would get in any team in the world right now, and he would undeniably make them better.
After a trying couple of years compromised by positional fluctuation and persistent fitness gripes, the Frenchman has now comprehensively reclaimed his crown as the best player in his position. He showed signs under Frank Lampard, in fits and starts, but under the guise of Thomas Tuchel he’s been reupholstered into the player he was circa 2016-18. Perhaps, dare I say, maybe even more? That questioning clause was cemented this past week with two domineering displays against Real Madrid. Over both legs, he made Toni Kroos and Luka Modric look like a couple of has-beens playing Masters Football. Their sludgy athleticism and fine wine passing was reduced to mulch when put up against the fire and brimstone of Kante’s pressing, propulsive running and decisive passing. In his own meek and merciful way, he bullied the not-so-dynamic duo, along with anyone else who dared to proffer a less than perfect touch within 30 yards of him.
But wait, we’re doing it again, aren’t we? We’re forgetting someone. Someone who’s equally synonymous with sludgy athleticism and fine wine passing. We’re forgetting Jorginho. It’s not the first time the Italian’s been slighted by Chelsea fans (definitely not where this writer is concerned), maybe it won’t be the last, but by God it should be. Because, while his midfield counterpart picks up all the duly earned plaudits—and once you get going, it really is hard to stop, believe me—the one-time Stamford Bridge stat-padding punching bag has been quietly excellent.
Jorginho has quickly become one of Chelsea’s most important individuals.
To be fair to Jorginho, he’s been quietly excellent for most of the season, but it’s only really since Kante returned to all-timer levels of output that Chelsea has been able to really reap the rewards. That could sound like an indictment of the 29-year-old, but it’s not. There are plenty of incredible players who rely on the good play of others to reach their full potential—it just so happens that the man next to him does not, hence his rightful placing among the fated few who belong in that aforementioned adage. However, where Kante’s excellence is blindingly obvious—it’s possible to be, if not blind to then blissfully oblivious—of Jorginho’s impact.
Even at the peak of his powers, he is rarely the one wheeling away for a knee slide a la Mason Mount Wednesday night, nor is he the jubilant provider a la Cristian Pulisic. He’s also unlikely to be the last-ditch saviour at the back, leaping salmon-like to deflect a cross or nipping in Kante-like to thwart a certain goal. Usually, he’s one stage removed that moment, but it’s what he does in between those match-making moments that make him so special. He’s always been a world class passer, particularly in the face of a strong press, but Tuchel’s immeasurable improvement of the players around him in this respect has allowed this part of his game to truly flourish.
He’s not afraid of the ball, and he always knows what to do with it, yet he’s never selfish. His only interest is in building the play, building the attack, or smothering the opponent’s offence with some stymying possession in the last quarter. But, while those skills have always been in his armory, what’s propelled him to these newfound echelons is an eradication of the two or three mistakes he was previously prone to make combined with a positional intelligence and discipline nearing that of his midfield mate.
While Kante roamed, unfettered by Madrid’s sagging central midfield, Jorginho stood firm and snuffed out any remaining hope. He’s never been the fastest, but while his opposite numbers offered the perfect illustration of this fallibility in the modern game, Jorginho refused to fold. Despite a yellow card in the 13′, he never let up in his relentless stalking of Eden Hazard. He stuck to the task at hand, and that was nipping in when he could, but never at the expense of the team’s structure. He retained his composure throughout, right up to the cajoling of his colleagues in the midst of that second goal pandemonium. He was always there, keeping his head, keeping his team on the front foot and keeping the ball, allowing others to prosper from the foundations he set.
Therefore, when you lay your head upon your pillow at night and thank the powers that be for giving us Kante, spare a thought for Jorginho, as well.