Eight years of Moriyasu: how Japan’s core changed

Ivory FootballGravity cover showing Japan 2018–2026, a large blue 8, a red circle, and 111 match marks grouped by year.

Across 111 matches, Japan's playing-time records reveal a broad pool of opportunity and a substantial change in the players carrying the team.

Eight years is a long time for a national team to live under one coach. The name on the touchline can become familiar enough to make the team itself seem continuous. The players' minutes tell a more complicated story.

FootballGravity has compiled Japan's official match records from Hajime Moriyasu's first game, against Costa Rica on 11 September 2018, through the New Zealand match on 5 October 2026. The dataset covers 111 played senior internationals. It offers a way to look beyond individual tournament results: who received opportunities, who became a regular presence, and where the team's workload moved.

The clearest finding is the change in Japan's core. Only three players appear in the ten highest playing-time totals in both the 2018–2022 and 2023–October 2026 periods: Wataru Endo, Junya Ito and Ritsu Doan.

That does not settle the question of whether every transition worked. It does establish that a long-serving coach presided over a team whose principal players changed considerably.

The players carrying the minutes

For this comparison, the first period runs through the end of 2022; the second begins in 2023. There are 62 matches in the first and 49 in the second. The table compares the leaders within each period, rather than treating a longer period's larger totals as evidence of greater importance.

Rank2018–2022Minutes2023–5 October 2026Minutes
1Maya Yoshida3,240Zion Suzuki2,648
2Shuichi Gonda3,135Ritsu Doan2,332
3Takumi Minamino2,919Ko Itakura2,278
4Wataru Endo2,750Ayase Ueda2,190
5Gaku Shibasaki2,699Hiroki Ito2,052
6Takehiro Tomiyasu2,688Wataru Endo2,020
7Yuto Nagatomo2,514Takefusa Kubo1,866
8Junya Ito2,350Junya Ito1,829
9Hiroki Sakai2,030Daichi Kamada1,805
10Ritsu Doan1,933Keito Nakamura1,750

Yoshida and Gonda head the first period. Suzuki and Itakura figure prominently in the second, while Ueda moves into the top five. The change reaches across the goalkeeper, defensive and attacking positions.

Doan is a particularly useful point of continuity. He ranks tenth in the first period, with 1,933 minutes, and second in the next, with 2,332. Remaining in the team and taking on a greater share of its work can happen together. Endo and Junya Ito provide other connections between the periods.

The ranking records a change in workload. Injuries, availability, competition formats and the composition of each squad also affect that workload. The figures cannot isolate how much of the change came from a deliberate succession plan. They do show where continuity was preserved while the surrounding team was renewed.

A wide door, followed by repeated choices

Across the full dataset, 154 different players appeared. That is a count of players who took the field, rather than a total of everyone called up. Of those 154, 31 made one appearance and 71 made between one and three.

Almost half of the playing pool therefore sits at the shorter end of the appearance distribution. A national team can offer many players a first look while concentrating its repeated selections around a much smaller group.

Those short stays need care in interpretation. A player with one appearance may have been an experimental selection, may have faced limited availability, or may have entered the team close to this dataset's cutoff. The count does not provide a failure rate for scouting or selection.

Tournament context matters too. The dataset includes nine matches from the EAFF E-1 championships. Japan used 128 different players in matches outside those tournaments. Separating the two gives a clearer picture of the breadth of the playing pool without treating every selection environment as equivalent.

For Japan, whose player pathways connect domestic clubs with teams abroad, these records make the point at which a player receives an opportunity visible. Understanding what happens next requires attention to both representative football and the player's club career. An international appearance alone cannot tell us whether a career has progressed.

Different ways to remain important

The cumulative leaders also show why appearances and minutes should be read together.

PlayerAppearancesStartsMinutes
Wataru Endo61544,770
Takumi Minamino71534,367
Ritsu Doan73504,265
Junya Ito74424,179
Takehiro Tomiyasu46403,662
Ko Itakura44403,527
Daichi Kamada57393,353
Maya Yoshida41383,254
Shuichi Gonda35353,135
Hidemasa Morita40332,861

Endo leads the minutes. Junya Ito leads the appearances, but started 42 of his 74 games. Tomiyasu's smaller appearance total includes 40 starts in 46 matches.

These are different forms of presence: accumulated time, frequent involvement, and a high proportion of starts when taking the field. A single league table of appearances would compress those differences.

Goals offer another view. Minamino leads this period with 26, followed by Ueda on 22, Yuya Osako on 17 and Junya Ito on 16. The overlap with the playing-time leaders shows that some of the most persistent contributors also carried a substantial scoring workload. It does not make total goals a complete measure of attacking quality: penalties, minutes and the matches in which those goals arrived still matter.

What a long tenure leaves visible

Moriyasu's eight years can be examined through the distribution of opportunity as well as the results. The records show a large number of players entering the team, a smaller group returning repeatedly, and a marked shift in the players receiving the most time across two World Cup cycles.

With the Asian Cup still ahead, this is an interim account of that work. It gives credit to continuity without making continuity itself a verdict. Endo, Junya Ito and Doan connect the two periods; the seven other places in each period's top ten show how much changed around them.

For a national team, maintaining a recognisable identity while changing the people responsible for it is part of the job. Japan's minutes provide a concrete record of that process—one that can be revisited as the next group takes on more of the team's work.

Data and sources

FootballGravity's calculations use the Japan Football Association's annual results and official match records, covering 11 September 2018–5 October 2026. The 2021 match against Japan's under-24 team and the unplayed March 2024 fixture against DPR Korea are excluded. E-1 games are included unless stated otherwise. Minutes use nominal substitution times, excluding added time but including extra time; penalty-shootout goals are excluded. The two periods contain different numbers of matches. These figures describe participation and workload, and do not establish a coaching effect on player development.

Everyone Becomes a National Team Coach in World Cup Summer

Every four years, football expands beyond stadiums and tactics.
It enters conversations, identities, arguments, memories, and imagination across the world.


Before the World Cup even begins, something unusual starts happening.

People begin debating football everywhere.

At cafés.
At offices.
On trains.
Across group chats and timelines.

National team squads are announced one by one, and suddenly millions of people become temporary national team coaches.

Who should start?
Who should be left out?
Who still deserves one last tournament?

The discussions quickly spread beyond tactics.

They become emotional.

And that emotional intensity may be one of the most unique atmospheres in global sport.


The Arrival of a Different Kind of Summer

World Cup summers feel different from ordinary football seasons.

League football is continuous. Club football is routine.

But the World Cup compresses emotion into a short period of global anticipation.

Every squad announcement feels consequential.

Every injury update changes possibility.

Every rumor creates another version of the future.

In recent weeks alone, supporters around the world have debated questions that are simultaneously tactical and deeply emotional:

Should Neymar still be included?
Can Phil Foden really be left out?
Should Luis Suárez return one more time?
Will Cristiano Ronaldo or Lionel Messi remain physically ready for another World Cup run?
Can Tomiyasu or Endo recover their highest level in time?

These conversations are not limited to each country’s own supporters.

Football fans everywhere begin temporarily adopting the emotions and perspectives of other nations.

For a few weeks, people become unofficial Brazilians, Argentinians, Dutch, Japanese, or Uruguayans — emotionally invested in football stories far beyond their own borders.


Beyond Winning

What makes these debates fascinating is that they are rarely only about maximizing the probability of victory.

People discuss what kind of football they want to watch.

Which players deserve a final stage.
Which personalities represent the spirit of a country.
Which combinations simply feel exciting.

The World Cup transforms football into something closer to collective imagination.

Part sporting competition.
Part emotional projection.
Part global fantasy draft.

In that sense, World Cup discussions resemble a strange mixture of tactical analysis, mythology, nostalgia, and dream-building.

Supporters are not only predicting reality.

They are constructing ideal versions of it.


Infinite Possibilities Before Reality Arrives

Before the first kickoff, the tournament exists only as possibility.

Countless imagined futures overlap simultaneously.

A veteran’s final redemption.
A young player’s breakthrough.
An unexpected underdog run.
A tactical revolution.
A tragic injury.
A perfect goal.

Every supporter carries a slightly different version of the tournament in their mind.

And for a brief period before reality arrives, all of those futures remain alive together.

Perhaps this is why pre-World Cup weeks feel so emotionally powerful.

Because uncertainty itself becomes part of the experience.

The tournament has not yet collapsed into fact.

It still exists as probability, hope, memory, fear, and imagination all at once.


A Global Conversation About Identity

International football has always been about more than football.

National teams become temporary reflections of how countries see themselves — or wish to see themselves.

Should a team prioritize youth or experience?
Structure or creativity?
Discipline or freedom?

Squad selection debates often reveal deeper cultural ideas about identity, personality, and national character.

And unlike many modern global conversations, these discussions remain strangely participatory.

Millions of people feel personally involved.

Not because they control the outcome.

But because football allows emotional ownership.

Everyone carries their own vision of what the national team should become.


Soon, the debates will end.

The squads will be finalized.
Reality will begin replacing imagination.
Some dreams will survive. Others will disappear immediately.

But perhaps that fragile period before kickoff is part of what makes the World Cup special.

For a few weeks, the entire world participates in the same expanding conversation.

A global network of arguments, expectations, nostalgia, probability, and hope.

Millions of imagined tournaments existing simultaneously before a single ball is kicked.

And somewhere inside that collective uncertainty, another unforgettable football summer quietly begins.