Zakaria Bouchiat, whose 'no' seven years ago led to the cancellation of his call-up, and the weighty identity choices faced by players with multiple roots
The letters written on a passport, and the night that was never chosen
The call-up letter arrived.
The news must have come as a surprise to Zachary Bouchet.
Madagascar national team coach Corentin Martins added his name to the next call-up list. For a player who had steadily built his career as Troyes' goalkeeper, it seemed like a moment when the door to the international stage had opened.
But that door quietly closed just two days later.
Words once spoken can change the future
The Madagascar Football Federation issued a statement.
The call-up was withdrawn.
The reason cited was a statement Bouchet had made back in 2018.
At the time, playing for AJ Auxerre, he had spoken clearly to the French media.
Coming from Réunion, he said he held only one nationality, French. He was not a Madagascan player, and even if the national team's manager were to call him up, his answer would be no.
The internet kept that statement alive.
Seven years on, those words resurfaced in an entirely different context.
The weight of choosing 'who am I'
When someone's roots span more than one place, what does a person use as the basis for deciding their identity?
Is it the name of the country printed on their passport?
Is it the feel of the land where they grew up?
Or is it the bond with whoever reached out to them?
The words Bouchet spoke in 2018 were the answer he had arrived at, at that time.
The answer cannot be simply called wrong, nor can it be called right.
What is certain is that the choice was recorded, and it went on to influence what came afterward.
In the course of a playing career, questions of identity are never simple.
Especially for players with roots in more than one country, the choice of “which flag to play under” demands a kind of judgment entirely different from technique or tactics.
It is also a question of which to prioritise: one's own history, or the story yet to be written.
What Martens showed, and what the federation chose
There was, naturally, an intention behind Corentin Martens's choice of Bouchet.
How to strengthen the team representing Madagascar. What kind of players to gather, and what kind of football to play.
Within that vision, Bouchet's name appeared.
When a manager selects a player, it isn't only a technical assessment, there's also a judgment about what that player can embody for the team.
But the federation chose otherwise.
To rescind the call-up because of past remarks.
This, too, is a choice.
What do you ask of the national team stage? What kind of player do you want to see there? Where do you set that standard?
There isn't a single answer, and depending on the standpoint you take, an entirely different picture comes into view.
Words from seven years ago, and where he stands now
It is not unusual for people to grow and for their thinking to change.
That a player who declared in 2018, “I am French,” appeared on Madagascar's call-up list in 2025 is, in itself, a sign of the passage of time and of change.
Did something change?
Did the environment change, did something within him change, or did the circumstances simply shift?
Only Bouchet himself can know that.
But when “the words of the past” collided with “the choice of the present,” the chance to prove which truly represented who he is was lost, just like that.
Reflecting on Japan's youth development scene
This story may not be one we can simply read as something happening in a distant country.
In Japan too, there are no shortage of moments, even from the youth categories, where footballers must confront their own identity and choices through the game.
"I want to join this team." "I want to be used in that position." "I want the coach to recognise me."
Amid such feelings, the words a player speaks and the attitude they show to those around them can either narrow or widen their future options.
Facing up to one's own words is, I believe, a skill just as necessary for a player as polishing technique.
Being able to say "this is who I am right now" is a form of strength.
But at the same time, having a little room to imagine what those words might mean years later may also be part of growing up.
Even so, tonight he still guards the goal
The call-up was withdrawn.
The chance to stand on the stage of the national team is gone, at least for now.
What kind of night this was for Bouchouari, we can only imagine.
Still, as Troyes' goalkeeper, preparation for the next match continues.
Stopping shots, calling out to teammates, standing in front of the goal line day after day—these things accumulate regardless of the national team's outcome.
The fact that he was not selected does not change.
But the question of what to choose, what to say, and where to stand will keep following him from here on.
And that question does not belong to Bouchouari alone.
It is a quiet but heavy choice that every footballer must eventually face.
Tonight too, he keeps standing in the place he has chosen
The goalkeeper's position is often said to be a lonely one.
Left alone inside the penalty area as the last line of defence for the team.
The strength to endure that loneliness cannot be built by technique alone.
Whether you can keep hold, within yourself, of the reason you stand there is the root that allows you to keep going for the long haul.
On the night the door to the national team closed on him, Bouchouari's roots were put to the test.
No matter what evaluation comes from outside, it is ultimately he himself who decides where he stands.
He had already given that answer once, seven years ago.
This time, in a different form, the same question was asked of him.
Which was truly himself will gradually become clear through his play from here on.
Zakaria Bouchouari stands tonight, once again, in front of Troyes' goal.
Words reach the self of seven years later
Declaring "this is who I am" is a sign of strength. But at the same time, if your future self ends up standing somewhere else, those words may come back to follow you. The "no" Bouchouari spoke seven years ago may well have been an honest answer for him at the time. But the internet keeps remembering, beyond the context in which something was said.
Moments where youth-level players put their thoughts into words are not limited to the training ground. Interviews, conversations with teammates, public statements—all of these accumulate to build an image in the minds of others of "what kind of person this player is." Having words of one's own matters just as much to who a player becomes as does technical skill.
Is it fair to revoke a call-up over a past statement?
Criticism of the federation for revoking the call-up over a comment made seven years ago is, at first glance, understandable. The sense that it is stifling not to allow a person to change feels natural. But a national team is built on the premise that everyone shares the will to fight under that flag.
The federation's position—that welcoming back someone who once publicly refused could also send a message to the rest of the team—cannot simply be dismissed either. However much Bouchouari may have changed his thinking, since he had no opportunity to show it through words or actions, one could also read the federation's decision as a cautious one. Rather than asking who is right, considering both sides deepens this question a little further.
When I had to leave football in my twenties without ever turning professional, there was a period when I found myself thinking back on the meaning of the words I had spoken. Something I declared to teammates, words I used to tell a coach what kind of player I was, my own view of football that I voiced outside the team. Looking back now, I realise each of these, without my noticing, was shaping the options open to my "next self."
Sometimes words spoken seven years ago close today's door; other times, a choice made ten years ago opens an unexpected path. What kind of self-image are the words you speak now, in your current relationship with football, building up over time?
- The "home" Roma bought back after twenty years at Trigoria, and what the club and its players want to protect
- Considering Sean Strickland and Poatan—a perspective for Japanese footballers to choose their own weapons and dreams without being swayed by labels of "nationality" or "title"
- What Neymar's "one remark" revealed—football's reckoning with the responsibility of words and the maturity of players
