After the whistle blew for half-time, Kylian Mbappé ran to the player tunnel at a good clip, followed by Ousmane Dembélé. Behind them, the rest of the French team were in no such hurry, sauntering off the pitch. The forward widely considered the best in the world – or at least the most famous in the Non-Ronaldo-and-Messi Division – and the reigning Ballon d’Or winner had much to discuss.
The scoreless first half Tuesday against a Senegal side who had organized and pressed cohesively and forged much the better chances, including a clipped post, was a disjointed mess for the 2018 World Cup champions and the 2022 runners-up. But having the world’s best corps of forwards means getting to comprehensively beat the (former) African champions 3-1 despite spending the first hour looking like your front four had never played together before. And possibly didn’t even know one another’s names.
Because France have Mbappé. And Dembélé. And Michael Olise.
It seemed there was little connective tissue holding the French attack together in the first half. Olise roamed every which way from his right flank, once nearly traveling to the other touch line just to get involved in the play, but couldn’t figure out how to affect the game. Désiré Doué hardly factored on the left. And then there was the slapstick series of misunderstandings between Dembélé, playing in the pocket, and Mbappé up front.
The latter was nearly sprung in the fourth minute, served by Adrien Rabiot – French manager Didier Deschamps’ longtime and much-maligned pet playmaker. Mbappé received the ball with his right ass cheek, which evidently lacked the suppleness of his feet. He exchanged several hopeful balls with Dembélé, but their partnership never quite seemed to produce any real peril for the Senegalese defense, which enjoyed a pleasant afternoon of casual work on a sunny day that was neither hot nor humid.
Olise, sticking to the right for once, eviscerated El Hadji Malick Diouf late in the first half and set off into the vacant corridor. He and Mbappé seemed to lock eyes but never entirely worked out who was going where. Nothing was working.
Mbappé and Dembélé, the main protagonists up the middle, were having a very miserable time, gesticulating at one another, willing the other to just read their minds already. The French looked every bit like a team with an innately defensive manager who had set up his attackers in positions or roles they don’t play for their clubs. They were a collective in search of ideas and solutions, aware that they were far too good to look this bad.
And yet. The Senegalese pressed and cut right through the French lines to create several good chances. Nicolas Jackson’s shot off Mike Maignan’s near post followed an Mbappé turnover upfield. When Mbappé lost the ball yet again on a hideous turnover, a French journalist in the press box could no longer contain himself. “Oh la la la la la laaah,” he moaned. Really.
What’s the French word for ennui?