Real Madrid need change, but they know no other paradigm

Madrid is abuzz with a clamour for change. Real, the city’s signature monolith, lost ignominiously to Arsenal in the Champions League this week, exiting the only competition that matters at the unfamiliar quarter-final stage. Recriminations are afoot, in cafés and newspaper columns, and a consensus has settled around the need for action. 

Old, tired and anachronistic, Real need major surgery, if not total transformation – away from the whims of petulant individual celebrities, towards the cohesion produced by more modern blueprints. Real need to become more like Arsenal, in other words. More like PSG. Yet that may not even be possible for Los Blancos. Not now. Not ever. Because such a pivot to collegiality is anathema to the galáctico DNA. 

For Real to close the gap on more tactically astute rivals, Carlo Ancelotti needs to be replaced by a younger, hungrier coach who believes in schematics over alchemy. Ancelotti has been phenomenal, but the game have moved on, and his hands-off reliance on sporadic individual magic appears strained. A detail-oriented plotter who demands a team-first ethic is required – be that Xabi Alonso, Jürgen Klopp or even Mikel Arteta. The ethos must be cleansed, and humble collaboration must undergird a metamorphosis.

Unpopular though it may be, central to that mission is breaking up the tempestuous trio of Kylian Mbappé, Vinícius Jr. and Jude Bellingham. Every great Real team has at least one central megastar, around whom everything orbits, and of whom little is expected defensively. But carrying three such sullen mavericks does not work. This frayed and disjointed season is testament to that. 

Some will argue that dream teams can be assembled, citing Bale, Benzema, Ronaldo and Rodríguez; or Vinícius Jr. and Benzema; or even Vinícius Jr. and Bellingham last season. However, right now, the Mbappé-Viní-Jude axis is reminiscent of previous failed templates. Think Ronaldo, Beckham and Figo. Think Robinho, Robben and Sneijder. Think Kaká, Özil and Higuaín. All were tremendous players, but all were somehow ineffective when mixed together, undermined by overlooked errors in the superstar source code. 

Whenever the Galácticos model has worked, it is because the headline stars have embodied a unified attitude. Yes, Cristiano Ronaldo had an enormous ego, and was undoubtedly selfish in his pursuit of immortality, but he worked hard to that end, benefitting the team as a result. Similarly, Bale was a great team player. So, too, were Benzema, Luka Modrić and Toni Kroos, whose austere outlook upheld classy standards and set a collaborative tone. Those stalwarts kept mercurial teammates in check, policing with the merest hint of a scowl. Now, by contrast, the stars run amok. There is no restraining their largesse.

Symbolically, Mbappé is sacred to the imperial project of Florentino Pérez, Real’s impervious president. In practice, then, Madrid need to move on from Vinícius Jr. or Bellingham. Maybe both. In their stead, Real would benefit from less arrogant grafters whose skill is secondary to their work rate, rather than being the sum total of their offering. Selfless stars, in the mould of Khvicha Kvaratskhelia – who, fittingly, replaced Mbappé in Paris, soothing a discordant essence.

There is nothing to suggest such a philosophical shift will happen, though. The rumoured arrival of Trent Alexander-Arnold – another supremely talented player whose fluctuating mood can pull others into a black hole – represents a doubling-down, rather than a reversal. And adding another volatile brand to the Bernabéu department store may not yield sporting glory.

Real’s squad also contains too many players who were once critical contributors but who now subsist on sentiment. At 39, Modrić is sadly done as a world class force. Suddenly without a natural position, David Alaba has fallen from the elite. Antonio Rüdiger looks set to join him. And then there is the ubiquitous bloc of loyal servants who no longer warrant regular playing time – Dani Carvajal and Lucas Vázquez jostling with Jesús Vallejo and Dani Ceballos. 

In all likelihood, however, very little will change. At least under the aegis of Pérez. Ancelotti will probably be replaced, but cutting ties with Vinícius Jr. or Bellingham would be too much of an embarrassment for Real to comprehend. They have invested heavily in those assets – in this model – and reneging now would be a rare mea culpa. 

And so, the next coach will probably be tasked with shoehorning these counteracting pieces into a flawed jigsaw – playing with eight men defensively in return for occasional spasms of offensive genius. That, after all, is the Real Madrid way. The club knows no other paradigm.

Maybe a disciplinarian could issue an ultimatum to Viní, Judge and anyone else with delusions of grandeur. Someone like Didier Deschamps, Joachim Löw or Antonio Conte, perhaps. Simone Inzaghi, Max Allegri and Laurent Blanc should be considered, too. Or a bonafide legend whose legacy contextualises the work-in-progress of this current crop – Zinedine Zidane, maybe, or Steven Gerrard, or Raúl González. 

In my view, the ideal candidates would be Pep Guardiola, Luis Enrique and Diego Simeone, but you would be hard-pressed to find three men less predisposed to joining Real Madrid.

Nevertheless, I would love to see a Real revolution, with genuine change delivering long-term sustainability. But that is unlikely to happen. Pérez will point to that fabled trophy case in the Bernabéu bowels, stuffed with 15 big ones, and obstinately insist that the formula works. That his formula works. It has worked, in the past, but the future seems hostile to its equation. 

As such, La Decimosexta may become a frustrated obsession in the Spanish capital, just as La Décima defined an age. Those quests have a lot in common, and Real must learn from the past.