Top News

Jude-fever. Bellingham-mania. There might not be a catchy label for it yet, but it’s sweeping across England. The Bellingham train stop in London has been temporarily renamed “Jude Bellingham Station”, while West Midlands Railway is giving free rides to anyone named Jude. After every England victory, “Hey Jude” blares over the speakers alongside “Three Lions” and “Wonderwall”, making Bellingham the only England player with his own anthem.

Just a few weeks ago, this World Cup seemed destined to be Harry Kane’s moment. It still could be, given his staggering tally of 72 goals this season, a figure surpassed only by Lionel Messi. If Messi is football’s godlike figure, Kane is the finest mortal of his generation. Should he lift the World Cup on Sunday, expect to see him under the Paris lights later this year, donning a sharp suit and holding the golden Ballon d’Or.

Yet, increasingly, this tournament feels like it belongs to Jude Bellingham. His goal against Croatia ignited England’s best half of football so far, his strike against Panama broke the deadlock, and his lightning double against Mexico stunned the Azteca crowd into silence—no small feat. In the quarter-final versus Norway, his first goal was a breathtaking display of technical brilliance amid chaos, while his second came from pure instinct, sealing an England win they barely deserved.

This World Cup likely means even more to Bellingham, a player who has faced both public questioning and private doubt from his own manager. Earlier this season, one tabloid headline read, “Don’t bring Jude,” arguing that England would be better off without the “divisive soloist”.

“It’s good to put the noise aside and prove to my country and my teammates how committed I am to helping us win matches,” Bellingham said after England’s 4-2 win over Croatia in Dallas.

It’s almost strange now to recall that Thomas Tuchel, before the opening match—and throughout his 18-month tenure—agonised over whether to start Bellingham or Morgan Rogers in the No 10 role. Bellingham had missed the previous September qualifiers following shoulder surgery, and his absence coincided with England’s best showing under Tuchel, a 5-0 triumph in Serbia where Rogers excelled.

Even after Bellingham’s return to full fitness with Real Madrid, Tuchel left him out of the following camp. Then came the infamous comment about Bellingham’s “repulsive” on-field behaviour—something Tuchel later blamed on a language mix-up and apologised for. The German coach often spoke about building a “brotherhood” in that squad, and there were doubts about whether Bellingham’s strong personality could fit seamlessly into that environment.

When Bellingham did make the final World Cup squad, his starting place against Croatia was far from guaranteed. Asked before kick-off why Bellingham got the nod over Rogers, Tuchel admitted, “It was really close.” Was it Bellingham’s reputation for big-game heroics? “No,” Tuchel replied. “A 50-50 call,” he said, as though the choice had been settled by a quick game of rock-paper-scissors in the locker room.

Tuchel had other options for the playmaker role—Eberechi Eze was used sparingly, Phil Foden and Cole Palmer were left watching from home—but really, what’s the point of having a player like Bellingham if you don’t unleash him? England possess a midfielder whom Real Madrid signed for €103 million at 19, who won the Champions League at 20, and who is now at his fourth major tournament aged just 22. For comparison, Steven Gerrard played his fourth at 30, and Frank Lampard reached his at 36.

Over the past few weeks, Bellingham has shown he isn’t merely part of England’s system—he is the system, the keystone holding this World Cup campaign together.

His influence goes beyond goals and assists. It’s about the intangibles—the aura he brings, the confidence he radiates, the intimidation he instills. At 6ft tall with an upright stance, square shoulders, and an easy grin, Bellingham carries an assured presence. Even opponents seem to shrink slightly when they glimpse him in the tunnel.

There’s also an undeniable charisma about him—the poise, the cheekbones, the gleam in his eyes. It’s hard not to notice, and perhaps the Norwegian defenders did too when they wilted as he put England ahead in the quarter-final.

Then there’s the steel. Against Croatia, Bellingham made three crunching second-half tackles—sliding through opponents, winning both ball and momentum. These are the moments that lift England fans to their feet, chanting “Juuuuuude” with that deep, resonant hum that stirs both teammates and crowd alike.

FIFA’s mountain of stats confirms his dominance. He leads the tournament in sprints—328 in total, averaging 55 per game—one every 110 seconds, despite searing conditions and high altitudes. He also tops FIFA’s “offers to receive in between” metric, showing his willingness to take possession in dangerous pockets of space, surrounded by defenders. It speaks of both physical endurance and mental bravery.

Across other metrics—distance covered, turnovers, pressures, chances created, headed efforts—Bellingham ranks near the top. His play may shine most in the box, but his influence extends everywhere on the pitch. Far from being a “soloist”, he’s a conductor lifting the entire orchestra.

The Gerrard comparisons are apt. Like Gerrard, Bellingham could excel anywhere on the field. Yet even Gerrard never reached this level of consistency for England across a full World Cup. Nor did Lampard, Wayne Rooney, David Beckham, or Michael Owen. Bellingham’s performances have arguably surpassed Paul Gascoigne’s at Italia ’90 and Gary Lineker’s at Mexico ’86—perhaps the finest by any England player since 1966.

Of course, his fiery personality sometimes flares—he’ll berate referees or bark at teammates for not anticipating passes. His mother even reminded him before the Norway match not to pick up a yellow card, to avoid suspension. And those subtle jabs at Tuchel in post-match interviews hinted at lingering frustration over his earlier exclusion. Yet that edge fuels his performances, giving England their spark. Tuchel may even deserve a measure of credit for provoking it.

Perhaps Bellingham’s relative anonymity back home stems from his career path abroad, outside the Premier League spotlight. Or maybe it’s because he defies easy categorisation—a No 10 who is also a No 8 and a No 4. His Birmingham City youth coach once quipped that since Jude played all three roles, he simply added them up and gave him the No 22 shirt.

But there’s no denying his stardom now. Bellingham-mania is in full swing. After the Norway game, thousands of England supporters sang “Hey Jude” as he stood alone on the pitch, drenched in sweat, soaking in the moment. For perhaps the first time this World Cup, Jude Bellingham seemed almost overwhelmed by what he had become—the face of England’s footballing renaissance.