Another attempt with Nianzou

Sevilla’s defensive crisis has reached a point where virtually every decision in the back line is being judged under a microscope.

With 37 goals conceded, the team from Nervion currently hold the unwanted label of LaLiga’s leakiest defence, and the numbers are no longer something that can be explained away by isolated mistakes or one bad run. It has become a structural problem, one that affects the club’s results, its confidence, and even the way matches are approached, because every opponent feels they have a chance to score against Sevilla.

That is why the situation is now described internally and externally as an emergency, even if the club have not reacted with the most obvious solution: signing a new defender. Matias Almeyda, searching for stability, has already tried multiple tactical shapes and combinations. The fact he has used up to nine different centre backs says everything about the uncertainty. When a defensive unit is working, managers rotate by choice. When it is not, they rotate out of necessity, constantly hunting for a pairing that brings leadership, timing, and reliability. In Sevilla’s case, none of the options have been able to impose themselves for long enough, either because of form, injuries, or lack of continuity.

Despite that, the transfer window did not bring a clear reinforcement for the back line. The only movement was a swap in personnel with Ramon Martinez replaced by Federico Gattoni, which does little to change the bigger picture. There are two core reasons behind that lack of recruitment. The first is financial: Sevilla’s margin is limited, which restricts both transfer fees and wages. The second is squad management: the club already have too many players who can play centrally at the back, at least on paper. Even Marcao’s serious injury, which removed one of the more prominent options, did not create enough space to justify bringing in someone else, especially if the club would then struggle to move players out or fit another salary into the budget.

Instead, Sevilla’s leadership have made it clear that their plan is built around recovery rather than recruitment. Sporting director Antonio Cordon framed it directly: the objective is to get injured players back because they are essential to the defensive line, and because the season is still open with 48 points left to fight for. That is not just a motivational message, it is a strategy. Sevilla are effectively betting that the solution is already in the squad, but unavailable. In that context, players like Cesar Azpilicueta and Tanguy Nianzou are being treated almost like new signings, the kind of returns that could change the defensive landscape without the club needing to spend in the market.

Azpilicueta, although never expected to be a long term starter every week, has ended up playing more than initially planned, and the workload has taken its toll. He has missed 12 matches with injury, which highlights the gamble of relying heavily on a veteran in a high intensity league. When a player of that profile is managed carefully, he can still offer positioning, leadership, and game reading. When he is forced into extended runs, the risk of physical setbacks increases, and that is exactly what Sevilla have experienced.

But the biggest focus of the conversation is Nianzou, because his situation encapsulates both Sevilla’s hope and their frustration. In terms of raw ability, the club reportedly see him as their best defender. The problem is availability. Since arriving in the summer of 2022, he has missed 113 official matches, and 82 of those absences were due to physical issues. Those figures are staggering for a player who is meant to be a cornerstone of the defence. It means that even when the coaching staff want to build the line around him, they rarely get the chance to do it.

Nianzou’s injury record has been a repeating cycle rather than a single long term setback. After spending nine months out, he suffered another injury last summer, this time in the thigh of his right leg. Since then, he has missed 18 matches. Even when he has featured this season, he has only played seven times, and not all of those appearances were full contributions. In some matches, such as against Villarreal or Elche, he barely managed to participate, which suggests that Sevilla have sometimes tried to accelerate his return or rely on him before he was truly ready to sustain the demands of a full match.

Cordon’s comments show the club are still trying to protect the player publicly while also applying a level of pressure through expectation. He insists that no one doubts Nianzou’s qualities across Europe, and that the defender was widely seen as a project with huge value, someone who could become important and worth a lot of money. That is a reminder that Sevilla’s original logic in bringing him in was sound: young, physically imposing, technically capable, with a ceiling that could make him a top level asset. The issue is that injuries can completely redirect a career path, and Cordon admits that reality, saying that setbacks change the course of things. At the same time, he stresses that Nianzou himself is desperate to be fit and to contribute, framing him not as a problem personality, but as a player trapped by his body.

The immediate hope is that Nianzou might be included in the matchday squad this Saturday. For Sevilla, that alone would feel like progress because it would expand Almeyda’s options and reduce the need for constant reshuffling. It would also allow the team to think differently about how they defend, because a fit Nianzou is seen as someone who can dominate duels, hold the line, and bring a level of aggression and physical security that has been missing. The underlying message from Cordon is that Sevilla need him. Not want him. Need him.

The difficulty, however, is that hope is not a plan, and Sevilla’s margin for error is thin. With the defence conceding at the rate it is, every match becomes a test of nerve. One mistake, one lapse in concentration, one injury forcing another reshuffle, and the same problems reappear. That is why the club’s insistence on recovery is such a high risk strategy: it depends on bodies holding up, on medical management working, and on players returning at the right level immediately, which is never guaranteed, especially after long layoffs.

On top of the sporting problems, Nianzou’s situation has become a cultural flashpoint among supporters. A significant portion of the fanbase have criticised him for refusing to accept a wage reduction to help the club, something other players reportedly agreed to. That resentment is not just about money, it is about perception: fans often find it harder to accept high wages when a player is rarely available. It becomes an emotional argument about commitment and sacrifice, regardless of what the contract legally says.

Cordon pushed back strongly against that criticism, defending the player’s right to keep his salary. His stance is clear: people do what they believe is best with their personal finances, and contracts exist to be honoured. He also points out the obvious but often ignored truth in football: no one is forced to sign. If a club offers terms and a player accepts them, both sides are responsible for that agreement, and it is inconsistent to blame the player later for sticking to what was agreed.

That defence of Nianzou also serves a wider purpose. Sevilla cannot afford a public war with a player they still need. Nianzou is under contract until June 2027, which means the club are tied to him for the medium term. If they cannot sell him, and if they cannot replace him financially, then their best case scenario is to get him fit, keep him on the pitch, and restore his value. In that sense, Sevilla are not only fighting for points, they are fighting to rehabilitate an asset that was supposed to anchor their defence and perhaps generate future profit.

So the story becomes more than just injuries or tactics. It is about a club with limited resources trying to solve a major defensive crisis without spending, leaning instead on recoveries, internal solutions, and patience. It is also about the brutal reality that football planning collapses when key players are never available. Sevilla can talk about systems and partnerships, but without continuity in the centre of defence, those concepts remain theoretical.

For Almeyda, the challenge is immediate: he has to stop the bleeding with the tools he has, while waiting for bodies to return. For Cordon and the directors, the challenge is strategic: manage the squad, the budget, and the expectations, while trying to turn injury uncertainty into stability. And for Nianzou, the challenge is personal and professional: prove that the player Sevilla believe is their best defender can finally be present, consistent, and durable enough to justify the faith still being placed in him.