Michael Olise is proof the Ballon d'Or misses football's wonder

Armbands, instinct and the crowd

When Ousmane Dembélé handed the France captain's armband to Michael Olise during France v Belgium in the Uefa Nations League last week, the moment was easy to miss on the broadcast. A close-up clip online shows Olise accepting it with a look of confusion, seemingly unsure why he was being given the honour, since he is not usually captain or vice-captain. For Zito Madu, it was a reminder of a childhood belief that the armband goes to the best player on the team.

Dembélé had been busy before he was replaced in the 60th minute by Zinedine Zidane, but Belgium were doubling and tripling up on him, exploiting his tendency to hold the ball. Olise's arrival changed the mood. The crowd roared as if victory was inevitable, rising in anticipation every time he touched the ball, a reaction Madu calls one of the best measures of a player's quality.

Désiré Doué scored first, but Olise took over the game. In the 80th minute he beat his man down the line and cut the ball back for Rayan Cherki to finish. Seven minutes later he drove a weak right-footed shot into the bottom left corner after Doué found him on the right side of the box. In the 90th minute he finished a run through the middle with one touch, through the keeper's legs. It was his fourth goal in the last four matches, turning a tight contest between two top sides into a rout in the space of ten minutes.

Economy, not nonchalance

Olise is often accused of nonchalance, but Madu argues that anyone who watches him closely beyond highlight reels cannot make that charge stick. His ease and grace, he suggests, come from economy of movement rather than pretence. Where Dembélé's danger lies in the countless ways he can beat you, sometimes weighing him down when he tries too much, Olise wins by doing simple things extremely well: setting the ball up for his next move, carrying it with exactly the right force, and usually choosing the best option in front of goal.

That does not mean everything works. Madu acknowledges Olise's inability to score during the World Cup, which at times made it seem he was under a curse, but says he is usually making the right decisions with the ball at his feet.

Against the Ballon d'Or obsession

The core of the piece is a critique of the Ballon d'Or race. Players and clubs openly campaign, fans attack rival favourites, and great players are judged as failures for lacking trophies, goals or assists. Madu calls this engagement intellectually silly and insincere, and says it leaves no room for the wonder players provide. Watching Olise, Dembélé, Lamine Yamal, Kylian Mbappé, Raphinha, Harry Kane and Rodri, he says, is about seeing how each solves the same problems on the pitch, not whether they can prove they are the world's best.

"What matters is how each of them makes magic from a collection of rules and chaos of 22 people on the field."

Madu's conclusion is simple: when Olise steps onto the grass, checking its length and looking bemused at the armband, the hope is not that he proves himself the best in the world, but that he expands what is possible on a football field. More often than not, he does.