Why This Might Finally Be The Dutch Summer
Dutch football supporters have developed a curious relationship with optimism.
We're naturally drawn to it. We see a talented squad, a few convincing performances and suddenly start imagining ticker-tape parades through Amsterdam's canals. Yet at the same time, decades of near misses have taught us to be suspicious of our own excitement. We've been here before. Many times.
Which is why, as the 2026 World Cup gets underway, I notice myself doing something unusual: allowing a little bit of belief. Not blind belief. Not orange-tinted fantasy. Just the feeling that this Dutch side might genuinely have something about it.
Perhaps it's because this team feels less glamorous than some of the famous Dutch generations of the past. Growing up, Oranje was often defined by individual brilliance. There was always a player who seemed capable of carrying an entire nation on his shoulders. This squad feels different. Stronger, perhaps, because of it.
When I look at the current team, I don't see a collection of stars. I see a team. Virgil van Dijk no longer needs introductions. Frenkie de Jong remains one of the most intelligent midfielders in world football. Around them sits a group of players who have spent years competing at the highest level, learning how to navigate pressure, expectation and the uncomfortable reality of tournament football.
Because that's the thing about World Cups. They are rarely won by the team that plays the most beautiful football. They're won by teams that survive.
A rainy evening in a knockout match. An opponent defending with ten men. A game where nothing seems to click and somehow you still walk away with a 1-0 victory. Those moments decide tournaments far more often than moments of brilliance.
For years, Dutch teams often felt either too young, too fragile or too dependent on attacking flair. This squad feels more complete. It can dominate possession when needed, but it also seems comfortable rolling up its sleeves and making life difficult for opponents.
And when you look around at the traditional favourites, none of them appear invincible. France remains loaded with talent. Brazil always carries an aura that few nations can match. Argentina will never stop believing in themselves. England, as always, arrive accompanied by an orchestra of expectation. Yet none of them feel untouchable.
Maybe that's what makes this tournament feel different. There isn't a giant towering above everyone else. The gap between the very best nations feels smaller than ever.
That matters. Because once you reach the quarter-finals of a World Cup, quality alone is rarely enough. Confidence, momentum and a little bit of luck begin to play increasingly important roles. Suddenly the tournament becomes less about who is strongest on paper and more about who can stay standing when everything gets tense.
The Netherlands has done that before. We've reached finals. We've produced iconic teams. We've given the world some of its most beautiful footballing memories. What we've never managed to do is take that final step.
Maybe that's why this tournament feels so intriguing. Not because this is the greatest Dutch team ever assembled. Not because we should be favourites. But because for the first time in a long while, it feels entirely realistic that a month from now we could still be talking about Oranje.
Perhaps this is the summer when Dutch football writes a different ending.
Raoul