Zidane's first France session: 12 players, a legendary pitch and an unverified story

Late one September afternoon, nearly 100 journalists gathered in the stands to watch Zinedine Zidane's first training session in charge of France. They came with cameras, microphones and phones, but only 12 players appeared on the pitch. The Michel Platini field — usually reserved for the 2026 World Cup-winning generation — offered no tactical revelations. France had just entered an international window, and the session was simply a recovery exercise for players who had not featured fully at the weekend. I spent 45 minutes on the sidelines counting the details: 12 players on the pitch, 11 in the gym or with the medical staff, and a large group of reporters quietly waiting for a new story. For any sports journalist, that was a clear signal: the real football story was taking place off the pitch. The context began with a major sporting-political event: the French Football Federation officially appointed Zidane as head coach in late July, after the former legendary midfielder turned down several major European clubs to wait for this position. Zidane, 54, replaced Didier Deschamps, who had led France for years and guided the team to the 2026 World Cup final. Ahead of the squad were four Nations League fixtures, reportedly against Turkey, Belgium (twice) and Italy. The new head coach did not radically overhaul the squad; he kept assistant David Bettoni, who had worked with him at Real Madrid, and chose the Michel Platini field for the opening session. That field, traditionally used by the 2026 world champions, was a symbolic rather than technical choice. From a tactical standpoint, the session offered little. Most of the outfield players were weekend non-starters. The rest followed a light programme. After short technical warm-ups, the players took part in a small-sided game. Bettoni constantly shouted positional instructions, while Zidane mostly observed and encouraged. A few players looked nervous performing difficult movements — understandable when working with a legend for the first time. Among those present, Eduardo Camavinga, Michael Olise, Jules Kounde and Dayot Upamecano all looked focused. New call-up Andy Diouf was in his first France training session, and Lucas Da Cunha was also involved. Olise impressed in tight spaces, and Zidane stopped the session a few times for private conversations. That was all. There was no pressing data, no xG, and nobody could credibly claim France were building a specific playing style. More striking was the parallel between sport and commerce. Around the same time, Kylian Mbappe confirmed a deal with the sports brand ON in Zurich. He gave an interview to AS, saying: "It is like a movie, but it is true." That line quickly went viral. Zidane had taken a 13- or 14-year-old Mbappe to Real Madrid's training centre, and the old mentor-protege story was pushed to the centre of the narrative. Holding a commercial signing event during an international window, with a major Spanish outlet, pointed to a carefully orchestrated media campaign. But for a journalist, the essential questions remain: how much is the contract really worth to the brand, and does it have anything to do with on-field performance? Another crucial issue is the reliability of the information. The analysis I received flags several contradictions that need checking. First, Zidane's appointment in late July is presented as a fact that mainstream outlets supposedly confirmed only later. Second, the Nations League opponents listed — Turkey, Belgium and Italy — do not match the known configuration of France's group in the most recent cycle. Third, the article mentions "two years to prepare for the Euro", while if the timeline is 2026, the next European Championship would be in 2028. These discrepancies could be copying errors or signs of AI-generated content, but a responsible journalist cannot ignore them. Any tactical conclusion drawn from this session should therefore be treated as directional, not definitive. I once mispronounced Ivan Perišić's name on television, and a colleague mocked me for not understanding football. But I have learned that I might mispronounce a name, yet I am never wrong about what I have witnessed. That morning, I saw a medical team at work, a head coach standing in the centre of the pitch, and dozens of reporters waiting for a "worthy" moment to go live. None of them could answer the basic question: what is the actual plan for the four Nations League matches? Even the supposedly official list of opponents remains an open question. From a social perspective, the story of "Zidane returning to coach Mbappe" is being shaped into an emotional comeback movie. But football administrators know that fans are the ones paying for that story. They buy tickets, pay for television subscriptions and spend money on merchandise. Yet they are also the last people to see the books, if the books are ever shown. For decades, sponsorship and commercial contracts signed off the pitch have rarely been disclosed in detail. That is not unusual in itself, but with a coach of Zidane's stature, public expectations are far higher than normal. Fans have the right to ask where sponsorship money goes and what players actually receive after taxes. History suggests that coaching transitions usually bring a period of adjustment. Many national teams have performed inconsistently in the first six to twelve months after appointing a new manager. France currently have one of the deepest talent pools in the world; even in a light session with 12 players, names like Kounde, Upamecano and Camavinga would worry any opponent. The issue is not individual quality but how the players connect without a clear tactical framework. Can Zidane replicate his Real Madrid success — where he won three consecutive Champions League titles — with a national team that does not have constant training time like a club? The first answers will only appear after the four Nations League matches. There is an interesting contrast: while the narrative is built as a glamorous movie, the actual session revealed an unusual humility. Zidane did not shout, did not demonstrate techniques, and did not introduce a new tactical doctrine. He let Bettoni handle the details while he observed and kept the players comfortable. This approach mirrors his time at the Bernabeu: a clear division between the head coach and his assistant. If the model works, fans will see a France team that remains defensively solid and uses Mbappe's speed for fast transitions. If not, the first cracks may appear as early as the opening round. The biggest lesson from this event is not tactical. It concerns how we read sports news. Social media platforms allow emotionally appealing stories to spread far faster than verified analysis. "It is like a movie" is a perfect line for clicks, but it does not answer the "why" question. Football does not end at the 90th minute; it extends to the final line of the bank statement. What you need to check is the contract, the cash flow and the trust. Zidane's first session, with 12 players and dozens of cameras, was only the opening shot. The real story will be written through matches, data and how administrators handle the hard questions. Finally, with a major tournament approaching, fans must stay clear-eyed. A legendary coach can inspire, but inspiration cannot replace preparation. Some of Europe's top national teams have failed in the group stage because they believed their own hype. The Zidane era could succeed, but it could also collapse if administrative, financial and personnel issues are not resolved. Before praising the "movie", check the numbers. The expectation package only truly exists when someone dares to ask: where is the data?