The news of Wataru Endo's withdrawal was a genuine shock. The moment Shuto Machino was announced as his replacement, a familiar debate reignited on social media: "We have enough forwards, why Machino?" "They should have called up Hidemasa Morita." "Or just free up Yuto Nagatomo's spot."
These reactions are understandable. Yet, watching the debate unfold, something felt off. Everyone was only talking about the matches.
A simple calculation reveals a surprising truth. A World Cup match lasts about two hours. Even if Japan plays five matches, that's only ten hours in total. Meanwhile, if the team goes all the way, the players will spend nearly two months together—through meals, meetings, travel, and downtime. In terms of time, matches account for less than 1% of the team's shared life. Football is a sport where 99% is built off the pitch.
The testimony of professional players often points to the same conclusion. If even one person is difficult to be around, the team struggles to unite. A bad atmosphere can make it hard to even muster a pre-game cheer. The starting eleven isn't chosen on ability alone; a player who lifts spirits or whose effort inspires others is often prioritized. This idea that a full heart translates directly to performance is a known truth within the professional world. Many readers who have seriously played a team sport, whether in school or amateur leagues, have likely felt this. Some may argue against comparing amateurs to pros, but this isn't about technique. It's about the dynamics of any human group.
This perspective helps explain Machino's call-up. His bright, positive character will likely help him integrate smoothly, even in the awkward position of a mid-camp replacement. While there are tactical reasons, like adding an attacking option, the decision is ultimately about balance.
The same logic applies to the debate surrounding Yuto Nagatomo. To be clear, he is no ceremonial pick. A veteran of four World Cups, he is surely more focused on playing than anyone. That said, his off-pitch contribution is likely a major reason for his continued selection. Retired players, when asked, almost unanimously say the team is better with Nagatomo in it. Those who have been on the pitch understand the value of what happens off it. Japan's national team has a history of such figures: Yutaka Akita in 2002, Yoshikatsu Kawaguchi in South Africa, and Eiji Kawashima in Qatar. Players from each era look back and say the veterans' presence was invaluable.
This tournament's format also underscores this point. After years at 23, World Cup squads were expanded to 26 for Qatar 2022, a format that continues. Even at the last tournament, some players never saw a minute of play. With four or five days between matches this time, heavy rotation is even less likely. One or two players will inevitably end the tournament without playing. The importance of a player who can stay positive and energize the group without getting minutes is greater than ever.
Of course, counterarguments have merit. Every player who missed the cut gave their all. Some must be thinking, "I wasn't dropped on ability; if that spot exists, give it to me." Others will argue that professionals should manage their own mentality and that selection should be based on skill alone. Some might even say the current Japan squad is mature enough to not need a spiritual leader. All these points are valid. There is no single right answer, and this is certainly not a criticism of Morita.
Still, consider the old military adage: the outcome of a battle is decided before it begins. Ability is the price of admission. But whether that ability is fully displayed on match day is largely determined by everything that comes before. This is likely what coach Hajime Moriyasu values most. Team unity isn't forged during matches; it's built in the time between them.
Continuity is also a factor. Kodai Sano, for example, is a wonderful player, but bringing in someone who has barely featured in the last four years risks disrupting the team's flow. This is no slight on Sano; it simply means there is a logic to valuing players like Koki Ogawa and Machino, who have been part of the journey. A team's current atmosphere is the product of factors more complex than a simple comparison of skills can capture.
What I want to convey is simple. The matches are important, of course. But what happens outside the matches may be even more so. As we enjoy the debates over who should be in or out, it's worth remembering that Coach Moriyasu is agonizing over that other 99% far more than we can imagine. Perhaps keeping that in mind will change how we see the next two months unfold.
