As a longtime football analyst who has followed the Japan national team for over a decade, I've often found myself debating one particular question with fellow enthusiasts: who truly stands as the best player in the Japanese squad? This isn't just about statistics or flashy highlights—it's about consistent performance under pressure, leadership qualities, and that intangible ability to change games when it matters most. Having watched countless matches across multiple tournaments, I've developed some strong opinions on this subject, though I'll admit my perspective has evolved over time as new talents have emerged and established stars have matured.
When I first started seriously analyzing Japanese football around 2015, the conversation was dominated by Shinji Kagawa and Keisuke Honda, both exceptional players in their prime. Today, however, the landscape has shifted dramatically toward younger, Europe-based talents who've proven themselves at the highest levels of club football. Take Takefusa Kubo, for instance—the 22-year-old Real Sociedad winger has developed into precisely the creative force Japan needed. His technical ability is simply breathtaking, with a first touch that consistently amazes me even after watching hundreds of his matches. Last season alone, he contributed 9 goals and 7 assists in La Liga, numbers that don't fully capture how he dictates the tempo of Japan's attacks. What impresses me most about Kubo isn't just his dribbling or vision—it's his decision-making in tight spaces, something I've noticed has improved dramatically since his early struggles at Real Madrid.
Then there's Kaoru Mitoma, whose rise has been nothing short of phenomenal. I remember watching him during his university days and thinking he had something special, but even I couldn't have predicted how quickly he'd adapt to the Premier League. His signature move—that drop-of-the-shoulder feint followed by an explosive burst—has become his trademark, but it's his improved end product that truly elevates him. Last season, he completed approximately 62% of his dribbles in the Premier League while creating 42 clear scoring chances, statistics that underscore his growing influence. Personally, I find Mitoma more consistently dangerous in one-on-one situations than almost any other Japanese player I've seen, though I do wish he'd shoot more often when cutting inside from the left flank.
The reference material about basketball officiating actually resonates deeply with football analysis, particularly when evaluating these top players. Just as in basketball where questionable calls sometimes overshadow performance, in football we often get distracted by flashy moments or media narratives rather than sustained excellence. I've noticed that when Japan struggles, critics tend to focus on individual mistakes rather than systemic issues—like blaming a defender for a positional error while ignoring the midfield's failure to provide adequate coverage. This perspective has shaped how I evaluate players like Wataru Endo, whose contributions often go underappreciated. The Liverpool midfielder may not generate highlight-reel moments, but his defensive interventions and distribution accuracy—he completed 88.3% of his passes last season—provide the foundation that allows players like Kubo and Mitoma to flourish. In my view, Endo's consistency makes him arguably more valuable to the team's structure than any other player, even if he doesn't capture headlines.
What fascinates me about the current Japanese squad is how different players excel in various contexts. Takefusa Kubo might be the most technically gifted, but in crucial World Cup qualifiers, I've often found myself more impressed by Kyogo Furuhashi's movement and finishing. His 34 goals across all competitions for Celtic last season demonstrate a clinical edge that Japan has sometimes lacked in major tournaments. Similarly, while Daichi Kamada hasn't always replicated his Eintracht Frankfurt form at Lazio, his versatility and creativity in the final third give Japan tactical flexibility that I believe is undervalued by many analysts.
If I'm being completely honest, my personal preference leans toward Kubo as the most complete talent, though I acknowledge this isn't a universally shared opinion. What sets him apart in my assessment is how he's developed physically while maintaining his technical excellence—he's now winning approximately 52% of his duels in La Liga, a significant improvement from his earlier seasons. Still, I can't ignore Mitoma's game-changing potential or Endo's irreplaceable defensive work. The beauty of this debate is that Japan now possesses multiple players who could legitimately claim the "best" designation depending on what criteria you prioritize.
After years of observation, I've come to believe that identifying the best player involves more than comparing statistics—it's about understanding how each component fits within the team's ecosystem. The basketball analogy about questionable calls resonates here too—sometimes we focus too much on visible moments while missing the subtle contributions that truly determine outcomes. In Japan's case, the emergence of so many quality players has created healthy competition that elevates everyone's performance. While my heart says Kubo represents the pinnacle of Japanese football talent today, my analytical mind recognizes that the answer might shift depending on the opponent, tactical setup, and specific requirements of each match. What's undeniable is that Japan now boasts its most talented generation ever, with several players capable of deciding games at the highest level—a luxury that previous Japanese teams simply didn't possess.
