Szoboszlai and the No.6 Question: When Versatility Becomes a Trap

On the night Liverpool were held to a 0-0 draw by Fulham in the Premier League, I sat in a small room in Nagoya, notebook in hand, and paused for a long time over one line of statistics: Dominik Szoboszlai had won just 1 of his 10 duels. For a central midfielder at the highest level in England, that sort of data deserves consideration. But it is also the sort of data most easily turned into a hasty conclusion. A few days later, at home, Szoboszlai scored a beautiful goal from outside the box, Liverpool beat Tottenham 3-1, and the mood turned on a single strike. People began to talk about a return to form. I kept thinking of a line I once wrote in my notebook: every goal is a song, and I am only the one who copies down the lyrics. But the copyist must be careful, because a melody that rings out does not always give a faithful account of the true voice behind it. The real story lies in the position. In his interview, Szoboszlai described Liverpool's system in a telling way: there is only one holding No.6, above him a higher No.8, and above that a No.10. He stressed that the two midfielders do not stand side by side. That is a vertical, staggered chain rather than a flat pair. Saying this goes beyond describing a formation; it inadvertently reveals the pressure: when a single player screens the back line, every transition moment lands on his shoulders. Watching football on a small screen for many years, I have learned that a single-pivot system demands three qualities from the No.6 at once: the reading of a situation to cover when a full-back advances, the appetite to duel when a counter begins, and the calm to escape pressure from deep. Szoboszlai has two of the three. He has vision, technique, and the speed of a former wide player. What he lacks is the habit of contact in central areas, where one lost duel can open an entire counterattack. That is why a low duel-success rate is a worrying signal for the No.6 role, rather than for the player himself. This is where I want to pause longest. Szoboszlai has been used in many positions: right-back, holding midfielder, right midfield, box-to-box, and No.10. Versatility is a gift to any manager in a congested season. But it has a cost: when you are everywhere, you never hold one place long enough to master it. He is held to the standard of a specialist No.6 while he grew up as an attacking player. That is the subtle trap: the more flexible you are, the more easily you are judged by the wrong yardstick. The key lies in the system itself. When Liverpool operate with a single pivot, that player's job is not to hold the ball or start attacks. It is to fill the space. A true No.6 must appear where the ball is about to land, not where it currently is. He must win ugly duels, commit tactical fouls when needed, and know when to stand still. Szoboszlai has never been that type. He is the kind who wants to push forward, to make the difference with a line-breaking pass, to score. Putting him at the base is like asking a violinist to play the bass line: not technically wrong, but wasteful. To understand it better, compare him with a pure holding midfielder. Such players rarely stand out for goals or assists, and that is precisely the point. Their value lies in what never appears on the scoreboard: a well-timed interception, a blocked passing lane, a clearance. In modern football these contributions are increasingly undervalued, because statistics and media favour the flashy numbers. Putting Szoboszlai in this role places a player loved for goals in a spot where goals are no longer the measure. In modern football, most goals conceded do not come from elegant opponent combinations, but from moments of losing the ball in midfield. That is why the holding role is heavier than ever. That player is the first barrier in transition, and must read the opponent's intent before it takes shape. When a team is still searching for a tactical identity, handing this pivotal role to a player not trained for it is a gamble. It can win in the short term, but it usually charges a price in the biggest matches. The new-look system Liverpool's staff are building is still in its gelling phase. In such a phase, individual metrics swing wildly, and judging on one match is something I always try to avoid. Nagoya taught me that every voice longs for a stand. But a loud stand is not always right. A match with 1 of 10 duels won can signal a positional problem, or it can simply be a night when the ball did not fall your way. Szoboszlai said: maybe next game I win 8 out of 10. He is right on probability. A small sample cannot define a role. But here is the counter-angle I want to put on the table. If the issue were only a small sample, why does the question about Szoboszlai's position return so often? There is a structural reason: Liverpool are in transition, and when a system is unsettled, people tend to trace every problem back to an individual. Lost duels belong to the holding midfielder. Conceded goals belong to the defence. Blocked attacks belong to the forwards. That is an easy story to tell, and mostly a wrong one. Liverpool's problem in the Fulham draw did not sit with one name. It sat in the distances between the lines, in the rhythm of circulation, in a midfield having to run more to cover for a structure not yet in gear. There is a detail rarely mentioned. After the Tottenham goal, Liverpool's manager publicly praised Szoboszlai's strike. Backing from the coaching staff matters: it shows the pressure is mostly external, from opinion and media, rather than from a dressing-room rift. When a manager keeps picking a player and keeps defending him in front of the press, the story of decline is usually exaggerated. As for public opinion, the criticism aimed at Szoboszlai runs in short cycles. It is attributed to no named source, it centres on the last two matches, and it can vanish as quickly as it appeared. This is a story that reverses easily: a strong display against Bournemouth could quiet every doubt, while a flat one could make them flare up harder. Add another layer: Liverpool are competing on several fronts at once, between the league and the League Cup. A packed schedule makes rotation compulsory, and each rotation reshuffles Szoboszlai's role. Positional instability comes both from tactical choices and from the rhythm of the season. For a player trying to settle into a new position, that makes everything harder. In the transfer window, Szoboszlai's positional story has another dimension. Versatile midfielders are often valued highly, because they solve several problems at once. But the market also tends to inflate the price of flexibility, turning it into a more attractive commodity than it really is. Versatility gives a player more chances to start, but does not automatically make him a specialist anywhere. For Szoboszlai, the true value lies in what he can become when placed in the right spot. I also have to say one thing plainly, because accuracy is what I pursue. While following the story, I came across reports that misattributed Liverpool's coaching. Liverpool are managed by Arne Slot, while Andoni Iraola is the head coach of Bournemouth, the side Liverpool are about to face. The error is small in wording but large in consequence: when a source gets a name wrong, every tactical analysis attached to it must be read again with caution. Some sporting moments never die; they merely drift away from the clock. Szoboszlai's goal against Tottenham is one such moment: it exists, it is beautiful, and it will be replayed in end-of-season compilations. But it does not answer the bigger question: where does he truly belong in this team? Will the staff remain patient with the No.6 experiment, or let him return to where his attacking instinct is free? The upcoming match against Bournemouth may be the first answer. And for a working journalist like me, the most compelling thing is not the answer, but the blank space left before it arrives.