From a Blank Notebook to the Blockchain Pitch: Zidane's First Two Steps in France's New Era

On a rain-soaked evening in Manchester, I stopped while turning the pages of my notebook. The page was blank — no scoreline, no description of a goal, just two words written in small English letters next to the date: 'Wait.' When I first began covering Manchester City as a beat writer in August 2026, every blank page before every match haunted me with the same question: where does the story actually live? On the pitch, in the darkness of the tunnel, or in the quiet face of the man sitting in the dugout? Today, as news arrives of Zinedine Zidane's first two matches as France's new head coach — 1-0 against Belgium, 1-0 against Turkey — I find myself remembering that blank page. Because these two scorelines tell no grand story. Two 1-0s. Two wins. The numbers are cold, brief, a seven-second headline on a sports channel. But if you have stood inside a stadium, if you have heard the momentary silence in the stands just before a goal, you know: football is never captured by numbers. It is captured in human footsteps, in the sound of a water bottle being set down beside the dugout, in the invisible language of a hand on a teammate's shoulder. France's new chapter is exactly that kind of language-search — like a blockchain beginning from a blank page, where every pass, every silence, every decision is deposited into the immutable ledger of history. Who is this man, who seems destined to become something greater as a coach than he ever was as a player — and why his first two steps may change the entire yardstick of how we think about football. This notebook is opened to find that answer. The man in France's dugout is Zinedine Zidane. One of the most discussed, controversial, and thrilling names in football history. Two headers in the 2026 World Cup final, the left-footed volley in the 2026 Champions League final — as a player, his career was like a screenplay, whose final scene was the headbutt into Materazzi's chest in the 2026 World Cup final. That man is now France's head coach. If you see this only as a coaching appointment, you will miss the biggest change in football. Because Zidane arriving in France's dugout means French football's own philosophy is undergoing a transformation. Didier Deschamps — under whom France reached two World Cup finals in three cycles, won one, and also played a European Championship final — was the old-school coach who never sparkled like Guardiola, never did aggressive man-management like the Nolan-school, but delivered results consistently. Zidane arrived with a different package — extraordinary football IQ, glamour, and a record of three consecutive Champions League titles. His first two matches produced 1-0, 1-0. The numbers suggest defensive organization, but numbers never tell the whole story. In these two matches, France's ball circulation in midfield, the height of the defensive block, and the overlapping runs of the wing-backs — everything hints at a nascent system, not yet distinct. For a new coach, the first two matches are two tests, in which he begins to write the first letter of his philosophy. And if that reads 1-0, 1-0, a question naturally arises — in the Zidane magic at Real Madrid from 2026 to 2026, he used 1-0 wins as a politics of defensive stability, but he also knew when to release Karim Benzema, when to drop Luka Modric deep. The national-team context is different — only a few days of preparation before each match, no daily club training. So 1-0, 1-0 may not be a tactical outcome, but an early state of the process. The biggest element of France's new chapter isn't in attacking statistics, but in the layer of information being deposited on football's blockchain. In modern football, a match result is not everything — information is now a distributed ledger. In Zidane's first two matches, France's 1-0 wins are a mere event, but every pass, every press, every second of possession across 90 minutes is an immutable block. As a journalist, I spent 38 days in Russia, filed 41 reports from the mixed zone of England's 6-1 win in the 2026 World Cup, but I learned even more from the rhythm of the stands. When a team wins 1-0 in its first two matches, the calculation is not easily understood. Because if one of these two goals came from a corner and the other from a penalty, then set-piece efficiency is proven more than attacking quality. The nature of these two France goals has not yet been fully disclosed — from set-pieces, from open play, or from opposition errors — without that information, the tactical meaning of these two wins cannot be determined. This absence of information leads me to a question: did Zidane experiment in his first two matches, or did he keep Deschamps' system to avoid any risk? In his first season at Real Madrid (2026-16), he occasionally shifted from 4-3-3 to 4-4-2, used three centre-backs in some matches, and at times performed the seemingly impossible task of balancing Bale-Benzema-Ronaldo. If we had pass-network, press-trigger, and ball-progression data for these two France matches, we might see that Zidane has not yet found his ideal system — and the 1-0 results are the product of that search. Modern football analysis is sometimes a dangerous trap. We now receive so much data — xG, PPDA, progressive passes, heat maps — that the numbers themselves create a language. But that language is not football's real language. The reading of the blank page is France's new chapter. I believe the biggest fact of Zidane's first two matches that no one is noticing is the identity of the opponents. Belgium is a premier-level team whose golden generation is now in its final phase. Turkey is a rising force that reached the quarter-finals of Euro 2026. These two opponents present two different challenges. 1-0 against Belgium may mean organized defense and capitalizing on a single chance. 1-0 against Turkey may mean trying to control the ball but reducing attacking force while dealing with counter-attacks. If there is a common thread behind these two scorelines, it is this — Zidane's France is not yet searching for its attacking identity, but building a reliable foundation. And that foundation will be the first block of the blockchain — upon which every success or failure of France over the next four years will build its ledger. Now to the counter-intuitive part, the most important part of this story. Media and fans are celebrating Zidane's first two wins, especially comparing him to Deschamps — 'what Deschamps could not do, Zidane did.' But this comparison is methodologically weak. Deschamps' first match was a friendly (0-0 draw), while Zidane's first two were official Nations League matches. In friendlies, coaches experiment, give new players opportunities, make six or seven changes to the starting XI — whereas official matches carry result pressure. Judging these two types of matches by the same standard is like matching the color of a blank page with a black page. What is actually notable in Zidane's first two wins is his decision-making style. At Real Madrid, he never played positional football like Guardiola, but trusted players' natural instincts. In these two France matches, if he played Kylian Mbappe on the right or centrally rather than the left, it is a signal that he is experimenting with Mbappe's position. And if Mbappe stays on the left, it means Zidane is not yet risking a system change. This subtle decision will shape the bigger picture that follows. Another key to France's new chapter is dressing-room stability. Deschamps was the type of coach who built a group over a long period — Giroud, Lloris, Griezmann, Benzema (later discarded), Pogba (post-injury). When Zidane arrived, he faced a new generation — Mbappe, Tchouameni, Camavinga, Saliba, Kolo Muani. This generation knows Zidane the Real Madrid legend, but not Zidane the coach. To them, Zidane means a trophy-winning name, but what he wants in daily training, they are learning. What message did Zidane send in the first two matches? If he used two defensive midfielders, it signals reliance on counter-attacks. If he used one, it signals searching for balance in attack. In my notebook I wrote — '38 days in Russia taught me that a crowd's silence tells the whole story of a match.' Zidane's first two matches also had silences. In the final ten minutes against Belgium, when France held the ball, was the stadium silent, or filled with anxiety? That silence will reveal whether the team believes in Zidane. The biggest question of France's new era is not about Zidane, but about France's football identity. Deschamps' France was an efficient, patient, sometimes boring team — moving from defense to attack, attacking quickly, forcing opponents into mistakes. If Zidane's France walks that path, the first two 1-0 wins are proof of it. But if Zidane seeks a new path — more possession, more press, more attack — then the 1-0 results will be temporary, because more attack means more risk. As a journalist, I have seen that a new coach's first few results often mask his true philosophy. Because he knows losing the first few matches increases pressure. So he chooses the safe path. For Zidane, that safe path may be two defensive midfielders, wing-backs not over-committing, and leaving Mbappe alone. This approach will win France matches, but if Mbappe scores 10 in 10 alone, that is good — but will this approach work against Germany or Spain in a World Cup? Zidane must find the answer. Zidane's philosophy will become clearer in France's remaining 2026 World Cup qualifiers and Nations League matches. But the biggest lesson of the first two matches is this — in football, sometimes a 1-0 defeat is more instructive than a 1-0 win. In a 1-0 win, you search for your mistakes, but there is a tendency to hide them. In a 1-0 defeat, the mistakes become clear. Zidane now faces that challenge — finding his mistakes within victory. In France's next three or four matches, if Zidane changes the XI, if he shifts Mbappe's position, if he swaps one midfielder for another — it signals experimentation. And if the same XI, same approach, same result — 1-0, 1-0, 1-0 — continues, it means Zidane has built a safe system that may crumble against big teams in a World Cup. My notebook's blank page is still blank. Because Zidane's story is not yet written. The first two blocks are deposited. The rest are coming. Just as every transaction on a blockchain is immutable, every match now becomes a permanent part of Zidane's legend. The question now — is this blockchain the beginning of a new era, or a repetition of an old one? Time will write it, not me. I turned the notebook page again. Blank. But no longer empty. Because Zidane's first two matches left two unerasable ink stains on that page — 1-0, 1-0. In the next matches, those stains will fade, new ones will come. Football history never stays still. But the question remains — if you see Zidane in France's dugout with a hand on a shoulder, what do you see? A coach, or a man who has still not emerged from the momentary silence of the 2026 final? When France's next match schedule is announced, the expression on Zidane's face before that match will be the biggest update — a new piece of information added to the blockchain, which no statistic can ever capture.