Frenkie de Jong's World Cup Journey: From Hero to Target of Criticism

Frenkie de Jong’s World Cup ended not with a roar, but with a long, hollow walk to the touchline and a seat on the bench he never wanted.

The Barcelona midfielder had emptied himself for almost 110 minutes, dragged through extra time in a tense, tactical struggle with Morocco, only to watch the Netherlands fall in a penalty shootout. For a player who had carried the Oranje through the group stage, it was a brutal, abrupt end.

And back home, the knives were out.

From fulcrum to focal point of criticism

Dutch television did not spare him. The post-mortem zeroed in on Ronald Koeman’s tactical choices, yet Frenkie de Jong still found himself at the heart of the debate.

Rafael van der Vaart, never shy with an opinion, went straight for the jugular on NOS, as cited by Mundo Deportivo: “Frenkie de Jong played the worst match I have ever seen from him.”

For a player who had recently bristled at those who question his influence — suggesting many people watch football without truly understanding it — the sting was obvious. This was not a passing remark. It was a verdict.

Van der Vaart, though, did not leave the system untouched.

“It was really disappointing, but that is also because of the system,” he said. “I consider midfield to be Morocco’s strongest point, and even so we decided to play against them with only two midfielders.”

That line cut straight to the core of the Dutch collapse. Morocco packed the centre of the pitch with energy, intelligence and numbers. The Netherlands chose to fight that battle undermanned.

A system that left Frenkie exposed

The frustration in the Netherlands is not just about one bad game. It is about the feeling that Koeman ripped up a functioning plan at the worst possible time.

“I am very disappointed with Holland. We got through the group stage quite well,” Van der Vaart added. “Things were starting to work, so what goes through your mind for you to suddenly have to do things completely differently against Morocco? I do not understand anything at all.”

The change left De Jong stranded. He is at his best when he can receive the ball deep, glide past pressure, and dictate tempo with passing angles ahead of him and security around him. Against Morocco, he often found neither.

The Dutch midfield lacked control. They lacked numbers. They lacked rhythm. De Jong, usually the metronome, struggled to find any kind of beat.

Jan Mulder added another layer of criticism, targeting the Barça man’s caution: “He was too cautious, I only saw sideways passes.”

In truth, those sideways passes told their own story. When a player famed for breaking lines and carrying the ball forward starts playing safe, it often says more about the structure around him than a sudden loss of courage. Morocco swarmed central zones, shut off vertical lanes and forced the Netherlands into predictable patterns. De Jong’s influence shrank with every closed door.

One bad night, not a new reality

Barcelona will not be rewriting their opinion of Frenkie de Jong based on this one match. Nor should they.

This performance, as poor as it looked under the harsh glare of a knockout exit, does not erase what he brings: his press resistance, his ability to carry the ball out of tight spaces, his progression from back to front, his capacity to stitch defence and attack into one coherent idea.

Across the group stage, he had been sublime for the Netherlands, the calm in chaos, the player who made the ball move with purpose. Against Morocco, the context flipped. He was overloaded, outnumbered, and dragged into a game that never suited his strengths.

The criticism will linger for a while. That is the nature of tournaments and the cruelty of knockout football: legacies get judged on nights like this, not on the quiet excellence of earlier rounds.

But inside Barcelona, they have already seen enough. One tactical misstep on the international stage will not change how they see their captain — or the role they expect him to play when the next decisive night arrives.