Football has a strange way of reinventing itself. Just when you think a position is understood, the game reshapes it, stretches its boundaries, and asks players to do something entirely new. No role shows this better than the number 6—the holding midfielder, the shield, the pivot, the one who quietly runs the show.
Once upon a time, the number 6’s job was straightforward: win the ball, pass it five yards, and never let the defence be exposed. Claude Makélélé made a career out of it, and he did it so well that people named the position after him. But watch a game today—say Manchester City with Rodri, or Arsenal with Declan Rice—and you’ll see a very different creature. This is no longer just about breaking up play. It’s about dictating tempo, dropping into defence, and even creating chances.
The modern number 6 has become the heartbeat of elite football. And their evolution tells us as much about the sport’s tactical revolution as it does about the players themselves.
Makélélé: The Specialist Who Defined an Era
If you rewind to the early 2000s, you can almost see the role in its purest form. At Real Madrid, surrounded by galácticos who wanted nothing to do with defensive work, Makélélé did the dirty running. He intercepted, he screened, he kept his passing neat. At Chelsea, under José Mourinho, he became the anchor that allowed Frank Lampard and Michael Essien to bomb forward.
Makélélé rarely scored, rarely assisted, and he didn’t care. His genius was invisibility. He made things look uneventful in a game that thrives on chaos.
But football was speeding up. Pressing systems were spreading across Europe. Passing rhythms became sharper, more choreographed. Suddenly, teams needed more from the man sitting deepest in midfield.
Enter Guardiola and Busquets
The revolution, as often happens, came from Barcelona. Pep Guardiola’s Barcelona of 2008–2012 is remembered for Messi, Xavi, and Iniesta, but the whole thing would have collapsed without Sergio Busquets.
Busquets wasn’t Makélélé. He didn’t cover every blade of grass, and he didn’t crunch into tackles. What he did was subtler: he positioned himself perfectly, always showing for the ball, always giving teammates an option. He could take a pass with three men pressing him and still wriggle out with one touch. Guardiola trusted him because he turned possession into a form of defence. If Barcelona had the ball, the opponent couldn’t hurt them.
That was the turning point. The number 6 was no longer just a destroyer; he became the conductor, the one who decided the rhythm of the game.
The Hybrid Age
Fast-forward to today, and the demands are even greater. The best number 6s have to combine Makélélé’s grit with Busquets’ intelligence. They must be physically dominant, technically secure, and mentally unshakeable.
Take Rodri at Manchester City. He might be the closest thing we’ve seen to a perfect modern holding midfielder. He wins duels, yes, but he also slices through defensive blocks with vertical passing. He’s calm in possession, but he also pops up to score in the Champions League final against Inter in 2023. That goal wasn’t just a strike—it was a statement. The deepest midfielder had just decided the biggest match in club football.
Then there’s Aurélien Tchouaméni at Real Madrid. Watching him, you see the position’s future. He can drop into defence, turning Madrid’s back four into a back three during build-up. He dominates aerially, wins tackles, and still has the composure to thread a pass through midfield traffic. He’s not just a shield—he’s a shape-shifter.
Declan Rice offers another flavour. At Arsenal, he isn’t just sitting deep. He storms forward when needed, carries the ball past opposition lines, and adds a sense of drive that keeps Arsenal’s attack alive. He covers, he creates, he commands. When you watch Rice, you realise how rare it is today for a number 6 to be pigeonholed.
And then there’s Manuel Ugarte at PSG—still raw, still more destroyer than conductor. But even he can’t escape the evolution. Under Luis Enrique, Ugarte has had to sharpen his passing because being purely destructive doesn’t cut it anymore.
Why the Role is So Demanding
So why has the job become this complex?
- Pressing intensity. Modern football is about pressing in packs. Lose the ball in midfield, and you’re punished within seconds. That means the number 6 must be resistant to pressure—calm enough to wriggle free, or smart enough to play around it.
- Shape-shifting systems. Managers demand fluidity. Fullbacks drift into midfield, wingers tuck in, and someone has to balance the picture. More often than not, it’s the number 6, dropping into defence or stepping forward to close gaps.
- Transition control. In an age of lightning counterattacks, the holding midfielder becomes the insurance policy. Anticipation is everything. Think of Casemiro at Real Madrid—he seemed to know where the danger would appear before it even happened.
- Creative responsibility. The sideways pass is no longer enough. Modern 6s must break lines, feed attackers, and take risks. It’s no coincidence that the best ones now register assists and goals too.
The Mental Load
There’s also the psychological pressure. A forward can miss three chances and still be a hero if they score the fourth. A number 6? One slip, one misplaced pass, one lapse in positioning—and the team is exposed. The margins are brutal.
Rodri, for example, is praised not just for his passing but for his serenity. He never looks rushed, even with three players chasing him. That calmness is a weapon in itself. Rice brings authority, a voice that settles teammates. Busquets had a poker face that never encouraged opponents. These are qualities that don’t show up on stat sheets but make all the difference.
The Unsung Heroes Become Stars
It’s funny—this role was once thankless. Fans adored the strikers and fantasistas, while the number 6 was the workhorse in the shadows. But the culture has shifted. People now chant the names of Casemiro, Fernandinho, or Rodri because they understand that control begins with them.
Ask any City supporter, and they’ll tell you Rodri is as vital as Haaland. Madrid fans adored Casemiro not for goals, but because he gave Modrić and Kroos the freedom to paint masterpieces. The modern fan sees the geometry of the game more clearly, and they know that the pivot is where it all begins.
Where Does It Go From Here?
It’s hard to imagine the role shrinking back into its old specialist shell. If anything, the expectations will grow. As tactical systems become more complex, the number 6 will have to be even more of a hybrid—part centre-back, part playmaker, part destroyer, part leader.
And maybe that’s what makes the position so fascinating now. It’s no longer about doing one job. It’s about being the glue that holds eleven moving pieces together.
The evolution from Makélélé to Rodri, from a silent shield to a commanding conductor, is more than just the story of one position. It’s the story of football’s endless hunger to adapt, to innovate, to demand more from its players.
Watch a match this weekend. Keep your eyes on the number 6. Chances are, they won’t score; they might not even get an assist. But if you pay attention, you’ll see them bending the whole game to their will.