As Real Madrid fans prepare for another round of international fixtures and hold their breath at the prospect of more injuries, many Madridistas are reflecting on what has been another eventful season for Eden Hazard. But when it comes to Hazard, the less he plays, the more eventful his season becomes.
It has been more than a month since Hazard last started for Real Madrid – Sept. 28 against Sheriff. And it has been longer, still, since Hazard last started in LaLiga. You have to go all the way back to Matchday 1 against Deportivo Alaves for the Belgian’s last goal contribution for the team.
Along the way, Hazard has not actually played poorly. He has recorded 16 total key passes this season, fulfilling a nifty creative role that makes up for his lack of pace. Hazard has been forced to change his playing style into being more of a playmaker, and while he has done this successfully, there is truly no room for such a player in the Real Madrid 4-3-3 system. Unfortunately, Real cannot make the defensive sacrifices necessary to fit Hazard into a “free role”, which Carlo Ancelotti did already try.
Hazard is not the same player he once was. A superstar for Chelsea who ruled the Premier League after his sensational spell with Lille in Ligue 1, Hazard is now a shadow. He is a vagabond who comes in for 10 minutes and leaves without a trace. He feels like a man without a home, left to fend for himself as Ancelotti does his best to alleviate pressure off him by treating him like everyone else to the press. However, this approach has backfired, because the scrutiny around Hazard will never end.
We are missing out on the joy Eden Hazard brings us
Much of that comes from the fans who love him. Madridistas, Chelsea fans, football fans in general. It does not matter. If you watched Hazard at his peak, you love him. How could you not? He made everything look so easy, floating around the pitch with a playful grin as he cooked defenders, roasting them alive with nutmegs, turns, blistering changes of direction, deft flicks, and bullseye finishes.
That’s what makes all of this so sad. We have been robbed of the joy of watching one of the best to do it. Because when Eden Hazard took on a defender, uncorked a shot, or won a match single-handedly for his team, you knew that grin was genuine. You knew he loved the game and loved sharing that love for the game with all of us watching.
Everyone wants to look for a scapegoat. For many, Ancelotti is a convenient one. But there is nobody to blame here. Not Hazard. Not the manager. Not the system.
Hazard can’t play a full 90 minutes. He can hardly play in consecutive games without risking an overload. As football continues to throw more congested fixtures at players in an effort to accrue as much of this thing called “capital” as possible, Hazard is caught in the crosshairs. He is on the most competitive team in the world, and what he needs the most is something Real Madrid cannot give him. And that is time. That is patience. That is grace. Maybe they want to give him those things, but they cannot. Not without risking dropped points, missed expectations, and disappointment.
If you still have the energy to be angry, that will quickly fade away. Because after nearly two years of covering Hazard’s injuries, all I feel is the kind of empty sadness that only learned helplessness can bring. There is nothing we can do. There is nothing we can say. It feels like we are watching a great, beloved legend of the game (yes, Hazard is a legend) break down in front of our eyes. I hope I am wrong, but after two years, I have given up hope. And without anyone to blame, all I am left to do is sit in the sadness or even wallow in the guilt of having to be the analyst who says harsh truths about Hazard’s situation.
Yet amidst all of this, there is one thought that makes me shudder more than any other. A thought that is more of a question, and one that I hardly have the desire to engage with.
How does Eden Hazard feel?