I still remember the chill that ran down my spine during that rainy night in Munich two years ago. There I was, squeezed between damp strangers in a packed pub, watching Belgium's golden generation crumble against France in the Euro 2020 round of 16. The air grew heavy with disappointment as Romelu Lukaku's late equalizer was controversially ruled out for offside. That moment felt like watching sand slip through fingers - another tournament slipping away from a team that promised so much. Now, as we approach Euro 2024, that familiar question keeps echoing in my mind: Can Belgium's football squad finally win a major tournament in 2024?
Walking through Brussels' Grand Place last week, I noticed something different in the atmosphere. The usual cautious optimism among fans had transformed into something more substantial. Teenagers wearing Jeremy Doku jerseys argued passionately about Kevin De Bruyne's fitness, while older supporters reminisced about Enzo Scifo's era over Belgian beers. There's this tangible sense that something special might be brewing. I found myself drawn into conversations with strangers, all sharing that same hopeful glint in their eyes. We've been here before, of course - that's the Belgian football fan's eternal curse, always believing "this time might be different."
Let's be honest about what we're working with here. At 32, De Bruyne remains the engine room of this team, and when I watched him orchestrate Manchester City's comeback against Real Madrid last month, I saw a man who's refined his artistry to near-perfection. His vision is almost supernatural - he spots passes that don't even seem to exist yet. Then there's Romelu Lukaku, who despite his occasional frustrating touches, remains one of international football's most consistent scorers with 68 goals in 106 appearances. The emerging talents like Doku and Loïs Openda bring that explosive unpredictability we've sometimes lacked. But here's what really gives me hope - our defense is no longer the liability it once was. Wout Faes has developed into a proper leader at the back, and Arthur Theate's growth at Rennes has been remarkable to watch.
I'll never forget that heartbreaking World Cup 2018 semifinal against France. We dominated possession, created better chances, but couldn't convert. That 1-0 loss still stings because we were genuinely the better team that night. The current FIFA rankings place Belgium at 4th globally, but rankings can be deceptive. What matters more is how this team has learned from those painful near-misses. Under Domenico Tedesco's guidance, there's been a noticeable shift in mentality. I've watched every qualifier, and there's a resilience now that wasn't always present before. They grind out results even when not playing beautifully, which championship teams must do.
The landscape of European football has never been more open. France remains formidable, England's young squad keeps improving, and Italy always finds a way to compete when it matters. But as that insightful analysis noted, "the current rankings definitely ensure that it is still anybody's race, paving the way for what could be a thrilling end to the tournament." This perfectly captures why 2024 feels different. There's no clear favorite dominating the conversation, no Spain 2008-2012 style dynasty looming over everyone. The playing field has leveled in ways we haven't seen in over a decade.
What truly excites me is how our younger players are integrating. During Belgium's recent friendly against Germany, I noticed Doku's fearlessness against experienced defenders - he attempted 12 dribbles and completed 8, numbers that would make most veterans blush. Yannick Carrasco brings that big-game experience from Atlético Madrid, while Amadou Onana's physical presence in midfield gives us something we've desperately needed. The blend of experienced champions and hungry youngsters creates this fascinating dynamic that could surprise everyone.
Of course, I have my concerns. Our central defense still makes me nervous against world-class attackers, and we've historically struggled against organized defensive teams. The ghost of that shock defeat to Wales in Euro 2016 still haunts me sometimes. But something feels different this time around. Maybe it's the collective understanding that this is probably the last dance for several key players of this generation. That sense of urgency can transform good teams into great ones.
I was talking with my father last Sunday about this very topic. He's watched Belgian football since the 1970s, through the lean years and the recent renaissance. His perspective always grounds me. "We've never had a team with this much quality and experience simultaneously," he remarked, sipping his coffee. "But tournaments aren't won on paper." He's right, of course. The margins are so fine - a questionable refereeing decision, an untimely injury, a moment of individual brilliance from an opponent.
Yet when I look at our potential starting eleven - Thibaut Courtois in goal (assuming he returns to form after his injury), the De Bruyne-Lukaku connection that's produced 15 international goals together, the explosive wing play of Doku - I can't help but feel this might finally be our time. The pieces are there, the motivation is undeniable, and the tournament landscape favors underdogs more than it has in years.
As I write this, looking out at the Brussels skyline turning golden in the evening light, I find myself believing more than I probably should. That's the curse and blessing of being a football fan - we remember the heartbreaks but keep returning with renewed hope. The question isn't just whether Belgium can win, but whether this special group of players can finally convert their undeniable talent into the silverware that would cement their legacy. The journey to Germany begins soon, and for the first time in years, I'm allowing myself to genuinely dream.