Part 1 : Is Jude Bellingham Being Overworked At Real Madrid?

Modern elite football increasingly rewards multifunctional players. Tactical fluidity, positional interchange, and game-state adaptation all demand athletes capable of operating across zones and phases. In theory, this flexibility should enhance collective efficiency. In practice, it can produce the opposite effect when versatility is used to compensate for structural imbalance rather than to sharpen competitive edges.

Jude Bellingham’s role at Real Madrid during the 2025/26 season sits at the center of this contradiction. Widely recognized as one of the most complete midfielders in the game, Bellingham has become indispensable not because the system is built around him, but because it repeatedly leans on him to correct its own distortions. He is asked to stabilize build-up under pressure, subsidize defensive shortcomings higher up the pitch, cover wide defensive zones, and still contribute in advanced attacking areas. None of these demands are unreasonable on their own. Together, they form an unsustainable accumulation.

The issue is not necessarily that Bellingham is miscast, nor that his performances have collapsed. On the contrary, his continued effectiveness across fluctuating roles is precisely what makes the issue harder to detect. The problem is structural. Madrid’s current tactical equilibrium relies on concentrating responsibility onto its most adaptable midfielder, gradually shifting him from an offensive differentiator into a systemic shock absorber.

Jude Bellingham is not unique because he excels at one specific function, but because he maintains effectiveness across several. He can defend space, carry through pressure, link phases, and arrive late in the box with timing that unsettles defensive structures. This range makes him unusually reliable in fluid or unstable tactical environments. It also makes him vulnerable to role inflation.

In the current Real Madrid setup, Bellingham has become the system’s most dependable corrective mechanism. When spacing breaks down, he adjusts. When defensive coverage is insufficient, he compensates. When circulation slows, he offers support. None of these actions are problematic in isolation. The issue is accumulation.

There is legitimate praise to be given here. Bellingham’s performance level does not collapse when moved away from his optimal zones. His duel success, recovery volume, and positional discipline remain intact even when his attacking output declines. That consistency explains why managers trust him in destabilizing moments. However, trust has gradually turned into dependence.

Madrid’s structure no longer optimizes Bellingham’s strengths, it distributes responsibility toward him. His role expands not through a clear tactical mandate, but through repeated situational adjustments that pull him into solving problems created elsewhere. This is not heroism, and it is not mismanagement born of ignorance. It is the predictable outcome of using versatility as a structural solution rather than a complementary asset.

The retirement of Toni Kroos removed Madrid’s primary tempo regulator, but it did not turn Jude Bellingham into the team’s main build-up conductor. That distinction is important. Madrid still tries to build primarily through its center-backs(especially Dean Huijsen), full-backs, and two midfielders. What has changed is the margin for error in build-up.

Without Kroos’s ability to receive under pressure and bypass pressing structures with minimal physical cost, Madrid’s early phases are more fragile. When those phases come under stress, Bellingham is frequently drawn into supporting roles. He drops into deeper pockets, not to dictate tempo, but to provide an outlet, relieve pressure, or carry the ball through a broken line.

This is a secondary responsibility, but it is a recurring one. Over a match, these moments accumulate. Each drop slightly delays his forward positioning. Each carry replaces a potential receiving action higher up the pitch. The cost is not visible in isolation, but it compounds over ninety minutes.

The key point is this: Bellingham is misused as a pressure valve. His involvement in build-up reflects instability rather than design, and the energy spent stabilizing early phases is energy unavailable later.

Madrid’s attacking structure places limited defensive responsibility on its forward line. Vinícius Júnior and Kylian Mbappé are positioned to attack space, not to consistently engage in first-line pressing or wide recovery. This is a tactical choice aligned with their strengths.

That choice imposes a tax elsewhere.

When the front line does not consistently slow transitions, midfielders must compress space earlier and over greater distances. Defensive coverage becomes reactive rather than anticipatory. In this structure, workload does not distribute evenly. It concentrates on players capable of covering both lanes and ground.

Bellingham is one such player.

He is not assigned sole defensive responsibility, but he repeatedly becomes the player who arrives to extinguish danger. He fills gaps left by others, often on the left side where both Vinícius and Mbappé operate high.

The absence of both Trent Alexander-Arnold due to injury and Alvaro Carreras due to suspension has further compounded this issue, removing key wide defensive and build-up outlets, which forces Bellingham to extend his coverage even further. This shifts his defensive work from central containment to wide recovery and transitional interception. The issue is not that he defends. It is that his defensive actions are layered onto an already complex role, rather than replacing another responsibility.

The clearest structural overload appears when Madrid defends in a 4-4-2. In this shape, Bellingham is often deployed as the Left Midfielder. This choice does not exist in isolation. It triggers a chain reaction across the team.