New Netherlands coach Xavi closes all 13 training sessions, sparking fan and media backlash

Monday's training session began at 4 p.m. local time. Around thirty reporters arrived early, set up cameras and prepared questions about lineups and tactical formations. They were only allowed to stand behind a fence and watch 15 minutes of light passing drills. When the warm-up ended, players retreated into the closed training zone and the curtain came down. The first session under the Netherlands' new head coach ended without a single reporter seeing any tactical work. The Dutch national team has entered a new era under Xavi, who was appointed in August. His first international break has sparked fierce debate, not about playing style but about an unprecedented media policy: none of the 13 scheduled training sessions is fully open. Hans Kraay Jr., the veteran ESPN pundit, was the first to speak out. He cannot understand why almost every national-team session is closed. For Kraay, this is a chance for parents to bring young children to see the Oranje players up close, something Dutch football has proudly maintained for decades. "Nobody knows what kind of coach Xavi is, how he trains, or what he trains," Kraay said. Only a few sessions allow media to film a 15-minute warm-up. Everything else – pressing drills, ball progression, group play and set pieces – happens behind closed doors. Maarten Mossou of Algemeen Dagblad went further, arguing that the national team should not be treated like a club. In his view, this is a matter of football culture, not tactics or results. National teams represent the whole country, and training should be opened from time to time so fans feel they belong. History supports him. For years, Dutch coaches like Louis van Gaal, Ronald Koeman and Frank de Boer always held at least one open session per international gathering. Xavi's blanket closure is a major shift, and it is creating a sense of distance. To understand Xavi's decision, one must look at modern football's tactical context. National-team camps are short. A coach does not have many days to install ideas, test lineups and refine patterns. Keeping the curriculum closed can prevent opponents from gathering information, especially in the Nations League where video analysis teams are strong. But this explanation does not silence critics. The problem is not the closure itself but how the media perceives it. When a coach refuses to open training, journalists start speculating about relationships, confidence and competence, creating a spiral of negativity. Notably, Xavi has never publicly explained his decision. In official press conferences, he answered briefly about injuries and squad fitness. There is no signal that he is willing to adjust. This information vacuum is quickly filled by criticism. Kraay and Mossou are just two voices. On fan forums, many express disappointment. Some long-time supporters say they have never seen such a distant coaching staff from the very beginning. The backlash is quiet but simmering, and it could erupt if results go wrong. From my experience following European teams, the most successful coaches rarely hide everything. They control information differently: open part of the session, allow media to film fitness and warm-up work, but close the tactical part. That relieves media pressure while protecting key ideas. Xavi appears more rigid. For him, perhaps the silence after the final whistle is a carefully written paragraph rather than something to share. But the pitch never lies – I have only ever misheard a name. On the pitch, results are the only accepted answer. Four Nations League matches in the coming weeks will expose that answer. The closure also has commercial implications. The national team is an asset of the Royal Dutch Football Association. Every open session is an opportunity for sponsors, media and fans to connect. When those opportunities disappear, commercial value erodes. Kraay calls it an unbelievable missed opportunity for parents and young children. The image of kids in orange shirts lining the fence for autographs is part of Dutch football culture. Closing everything risks alienating the next generation. National teams also lack the training time of clubs. An international window lasts only a few days, sometimes with only two or three sessions before the first match. Every minute counts. But precisely because time is short, an open training session becomes valuable to fans who rarely see their team up close. By closing everything, the Netherlands hides information not only from opponents but from its own supporters. There is another point: KNVB shares responsibility for communicating this choice. Instead of letting the media speculate, the federation should hold a press conference to explain the policy. Transparency would ease criticism even if the policy remains unpopular. Psychology matters too. Closing training signals a need for absolute focus, perhaps born of fear of media pressure. That is not necessarily bad, but it suggests the staff value information control over connection. For a national team, that balance is fragile. Dutch golden generations were built on openness. Johan Cruyff trained under the world's gaze, and that openness shaped Total Football. Can a great philosophy grow behind four walls? Only the future will tell, but fans may not wait. Seen from Xavi's side, the story is not simply a stubborn coach. A new coach with no official matches, facing four important games in a short window, with all eyes on him, has reasons to protect his work. Dutch media are famously tough. Closed sessions can be a deliberate defensive strategy, shielding players from questions about tactics they barely know. Modern coaches increasingly protect information. Pep Guardiola closes sessions periodically. Jurgen Klopp once asked media to leave before tactical drills. Control of training imagery is becoming the norm at club level. Xavi's problem may be that media are not used to this standard from a national team. But total closure can backfire. If the start goes badly, the media will attribute every problem to the coach's lack of transparency. They will talk about Xavi avoiding them rather than tactical mistakes. The tactical story becomes a character story, and pressure multiplies. The silence after the final whistle is my favourite paragraph to write, but for a coach, silence before a match is a debt to the fans. It must be repaid with victories. If victories do not come, the debt compounds. Dutch media have long memories. Four Nations League matches will be the real test. If Xavi gets good results, the closed-session controversy will likely fade. Fans forgive winning coaches. But if expectations are not met, this story will return, more dangerous, because it touches trust. When the stands are empty, I hear the breath of the match – and find my own voice. Dutch fans are listening too. They seek any signal that their team still belongs to them. Closing 13 sessions may be tactically logical, but it could also be the first crack in the unique bond between Oranje and the land of winds. It is time for KNVB and Xavi to consider one open session as a gesture of goodwill. The pitch never lies – only I have misheard a name. And fans never forget a team that closed its doors on them.