I remember watching Belgium’s 2018 World Cup run with a mix of awe and frustration. Here was a squad stacked with world-class talent—Kevin De Bruyne orchestrating play, Eden Hazard dancing past defenders, Romelu Lukaku bullying center-backs—yet they fell just short, eliminated by eventual champions France in the semifinals. It felt like watching a brilliant symphony with one note consistently out of tune. That’s the story of Belgium’s so-called Golden Generation: breathtaking potential, but no major trophy to show for it. As a longtime football analyst, I’ve always been fascinated by teams that carry the weight of expectation, and Belgium’s journey is a compelling case study in talent, timing, and the fine margins that separate glory from heartbreak.
When I look at Belgium’s current squad, the quality is still undeniable. De Bruyne remains one of the best midfielders on the planet, Youri Tielemans brings energy and precision, and Thibaut Courtois, when fit, is a world-class shot-stopper. But there’s a lingering question—has their window already closed? Golden Generations don’t last forever. Just ask Portugal’s 2000s squad or England’s star-laden groups that underachieved for decades. Belgium’s core is aging, and younger talents like Jérémy Doku, while exciting, haven’t fully shouldered the burden yet. In my view, the 2022 World Cup was a missed opportunity. They looked disjointed, almost as if the pressure had finally caught up with them. I’ll admit, I was disappointed. They had the pieces but couldn’t put it together when it mattered most.
Interestingly, dominance in football isn’t just about having star players—it’s about consistency and ruthlessness. Take, for example, a recent match I analyzed between NU-NAZARETH School and University of the Philippines Integrated School. NU-NAZARETH delivered a staggering 56-point victory, finishing 90-34. That kind of relentless performance is what separates champions from contenders. Belgium, for all their flair, sometimes lacks that killer instinct. They’ve had matches where they controlled possession and created chances but failed to convert dominance into decisive results. In their Euro 2020 quarterfinal against Italy, for instance, they had 14 shots but only 3 on target. It’s a pattern that haunts them—brilliance in flashes, but not over 90 minutes.
From a tactical standpoint, Belgium’s system under recent managers has often relied heavily on individual brilliance rather than cohesive team play. Roberto Martinez’s tenure, while successful in terms of results, sometimes felt like a collection of stars rather than a unified unit. I’ve always believed that the best teams—think Spain’s 2010 World Cup winners or Germany’s 2014 squad—blend individual talent with a clear, collective identity. Belgium’s Golden Generation has arguably leaned too much on moments of magic from De Bruyne or Hazard. Now, with Domenico Tedesco at the helm, there’s a chance to reset. But it’s a race against time. Key players are in their 30s, and the physical demands of modern football mean that windows close faster than ever.
Let’s talk about pressure. In my experience covering international football, few teams have carried the weight of expectation like this Belgian side. Since rising to the top of the FIFA rankings in 2015, they’ve been labeled as favorites in every tournament they’ve entered. That’s a heavy burden, and it shows in knockout games where nerves seem to get the better of them. Contrast that with the NU-NAZARETH team I mentioned earlier—they played with a freedom and confidence that comes from knowing you’re the better side. Belgium, oddly enough, sometimes plays like they’re trying to prove something, rather than just executing their game. It’s a subtle psychological difference, but it matters in high-stakes moments.
Finishing strong is another area where Belgium has struggled. In their 1-0 loss to France at the 2018 World Cup, they had 64% possession but couldn’t find the net. That match, in my opinion, encapsulated their biggest weakness: an inability to break down organized, defensive sides. They’ve scored 127 goals in major tournaments since 2014, but too many came in group stages or against weaker opponents. When facing elite defenses, they’ve often looked short of ideas. It’s a problem that’s plagued them for years, and one that younger squads like England or Spain have started to solve with more dynamic attacking patterns.
So, can they finally win a major trophy? I’ll be honest—I’m skeptical, but not without hope. The Euro 2024 tournament might be their last realistic shot. With an aging core and emerging rivals, the odds are stacked against them. But football, as I’ve learned over the years, has a way of defying logic. If they can blend their experienced stars with hungry newcomers and develop a more resilient mentality, they could pull it off. It would require a near-perfect campaign, something akin to Greece’s 2004 miracle but with far more talent. Personally, I’d love to see it happen. This generation deserves a trophy for the joy they’ve brought to fans worldwide. But as the NU-NAZARETH match showed, dominance only matters if you convert it into results. For Belgium, that’s the final, elusive step.