Seventy Days of Drought, Then One Goal — The Story Nobody Is Telling About Aouar

Sitting in a small radio studio in Valencia, I once did a calculation: by what number do we measure a midfielder's worth? Goals? Assists? Or those invisible moments, when he doesn't get the ball, yet runs anyway — only to create space, so someone else can find space?

Last Tuesday night in the Saudi Roshn League, Houssem Aouar put the ball in the net in the 53rd minute for Al-Ittihad against Al-Ettifaq. The scoreline read 2-0. The stadium erupted. Social media flooded with images: "Aouar is back." But as I watched the video over and over, my eye caught on something else — on the feet of a teenage forward running to the byline.

His name is Elijanina. That is how the article's headline spells it. The body text spells it Ilenikhena. That spelling discrepancy stopped me. Because the biggest story in Saudi football is now hiding behind this misspelling — and it is not about Aouar's goal.

Whose Goal Is It, Really

Aouar's 53rd-minute goal looks beautiful. But do you know the easiest task in football? Pushing a ball into an empty net. Low cut-back, goalkeeper out, defenders behind — when the ball arrives at your feet, the task requires almost zero skill. In modern football, the conversion rate of such chances approaches 1.0. Meaning: anyone standing there would have scored.

The real skill was in that pass. Ilenikhena carried the ball to the byline, then cut it low across the goal. That is not the work of a central forward. That is the work of a wide-channel forward. The definition of a striker has changed in modern football — the number nine no longer just stands in the box; he goes to the byline too, pulls the defence out, then releases the ball.

I live in Valencia. I have seen this pattern countless times in La Liga here. In September 2026, at Mestalla, Simone Zaza scored a hat-trick in Valencia vs Malaga. That day I put down the microphone and just recorded the crowd noise. In a 5-0 scoreline, it is easy to remember who scored. But who made the ball, nobody remembers.

That memory taught me: the scorer's name goes into history, but someone else makes the goal.

Aouar's goal is a conversion event, not a skill event. It cannot be used to claim his form has returned — because putting a foot on that ball was never the real test.

Examine the Drought Calculation

The article states that before this match, Aouar had started seven league games without scoring in any of them. Across three competitions, ten matches without a goal. Last goal on 11 August. Then 70 days.

The number sounds terrifying. But when I do the arithmetic, I find a discrepancy. Round ten means nine previous league matches. Yet the article says seven. Where did two matches go? The source is silent. This is not a small matter. Because if those two matches were cup or AFC Champions League fixtures, the picture of the drought changes.

Another point. What is Aouar's career archetype? At Lyon, he was a ball-carrying midfielder. His value lies in progression and link play, not in entering the box to score. For a ball-carrying number eight, ten goalless matches is not anomalous. It is not evidence of poor form. It is evidence of his role.

The problem is, we are judging him by the wrong metric. You cannot measure a progression midfielder's worth by goal count. To measure his true contribution, you need touches-in-box, progressive carries, line-breaking passes. The source has none of these. No xG, no xA, no PPDA, no possession, no shot volume.

This is my biggest objection. We watch one goal and draw a conclusion, yet we lack all the information needed to draw that conclusion.

Ten goalless matches is not Aouar's crisis, but rather evidence of our misunderstanding of his role. The metric is wrong, not the player.

The Teenager Who Is the Real Story

When I watched the video again, I understood the real story is not Aouar's. It is Ilenikhena's.

A teenage forward who grew up in the systems of clubs like Roma and Lyon, running to the byline and cutting the ball across. This is not just skill, it is understanding. When to pull the defence out, when to release the ball — the decision time in his game is shrinking.

This is where the real financial story lies. Aouar is 27. Ilenikhena is a teenager. One in the appreciation phase, one at the boundary of depreciation. In the same 90 minutes, in the same sequence, the appreciating asset produced for the asset whose value is declining.

The structure of the Saudi league makes this reality even more complex. Wages here are so high that European clubs cannot easily reclaim players. A European buyer must either absorb the wage gap, or the selling club must subsidise it. As a result, exit routes are usually not permanent sales, but loans with wage-sharing.

And there is the foreign quota. The number of registered foreign players in the Saudi league is limited. Each slot is a non-fungible asset. Seven league matches with zero goals from a foreign attacking midfielder — that is an allocation cost, though nobody calculates its price.

The Thing Nobody Is Saying

Since 2026, I have recorded sound at matches. On 12 June 2026, at Valencia vs Levante, the 49,430-seat Mestalla had zero spectators. I captured six hours and forty minutes of raw sound; only forty-seven minutes were usable. The loudest sound of that night was a substitute's shout in the 78th minute, which travelled from the bench to the far stand.

That experience taught me: the most important sound often comes from where the camera does not go.

The same here. The camera shows Aouar's goal celebration. But the real event is happening behind him — in the run of a teenage forward whose name is misspelled even in the headline.

The article's headline says "first goals" (plural), but the body says "first goal of the Roshn League season" (singular). This discrepancy is small but significant. Because it shows who is actually making the news — video first, analysis later.

I think our expectations of Aouar were wrongly constructed. He is seen as a scorer, when he is a goal-making midfielder. He is measured by goal count, when his job is to advance the ball.

Looking Forward

If Aouar scores again in the next three or four matches, many will say "form has returned." I will say, look at who gave the pass.

Because football's biggest lie is the idea that the scorer wins matches. Matches are won by those invisible runs, for which nobody receives a trophy.

The Saudi league now stands at its most fascinating juncture. On one side, massive-wage stars; on the other, young talents whose value is rising. Which way will clubs invest? Aouar's goal perhaps does not answer that question. But Ilenikhena's pass gives an indication.

And that indication is not written in the headline. Nor in the spelling.