Martin Ødegaard spent much of the past campaign making Gooners gush and drool and cheer, bamboozling defenders with a deft drop of the shoulder, sending his mark one way only to dribble the other, threading a pass to where only his teammate could get to it…this season, he added the goals as well, making him one of Arsenal’s most-potent double-threatss in some time. His 15 goals and eight assists are surely a portent of things to come, are they not? And yet, there’s that lingering, nagging doubt that he’s over-rated, more a latter-day Özil than a in-his-prime Bergkamp.

Yes, according to the graphic you see there, Ødegaard is the worst pure duelist in the Prem, clocking in with the lowest percentage of defensive duels won and the lowest percentage of offensive duels won. Remind me of who’s being bamboozled again—because it doesn’t feel very much like it’s the opposition’s defenders anymore. If you think that Ødegaard is somehow better than Kevin De Bruyne, you have another think coming.

Let’s back to the stat and just what (if anything) it means. If Ødegaard is in fact such a liability when it comes to winning the ball back or carrying it upfield, what’s all the hype about? Could it be that, with such granular details, we might just want to take a pinch—erm, a grain—of salt? After all, the role he plays and the skills he displays go beyond these two stats. When we lose possession in the attacking third, he’s almost always among the first to press. His job, however, is not necessarily to win the wall back (although it’s nice when he does…). His job is more like a shepherd than he is a terrier: harass the dribbler until he either concedes possession or goes in the direction Ødegaard wants him to go, namely, into the teeth of our press. Think of it as a “tackle-assist”. Ødegaard creates a situation in which his teammate makes the tackle. Next season, that teammate is just as likely as not to be Declan Rice, who appears (in case you missed it) in the top-right corner of that graph above.

On the other axis, there’s the insinuation that Ødegaard doesn’t take his defender on. He can’t dribble an opponent. Again, more Özil than Bergkamp? This accusation might stick more like white to rice. Then again, is that such a bad thing? What the three share is an uncanny eye for the killer-pass, putting it where no opponent can anticipate it will go and where only his teammate can get to it. What touches Ødegaard takes with the ball at his feet are not intended at allowing Ødegaard to carry the ball past his opponent; they’re intended to buy time, create space, and get his own mark off-balance as well as the runner’s mark to lose track of the run while ball-watching so that the ball finds the man running into space. Ødegaard is just as a likely to dance and pirouette around the ball without progressing up the pitch as he is to one-time a ball through a thicket of defenders, leaving Martinelli or Saka or Jesus free with only the keeper to beat. At that, he’s almost unparalleled in the Prem.

Last but not least, we can play a quick “one of these players is not like the others”. Rice, Caicedo, and Lavia (aside from all being heavily linked with a move to the Arsenal) are all central or defensive midfielders whose primarily roles are to shield the defense and link defense to attack. Many of the others are also 6s and 8s; few other than Ødegaard plays primarily as a creative midfielder or 10. Ødegaard, a 10, is frequently squaring off against a 6 or an 8; its stands to reason that he might not attempt or succeed at many duels—and why should he? He has a recipe for success and seems to be following it quite well. Adding that missing ingredient—a dash of Rice, if you will—might just make that recipe a bit saucier.

Last but not least, part deux— I hope you don’t mind too much a bamboozling headline and lede. I hope also that I more than make up for it with interesting insights and style. If not, however, let me know. Both barrels.

Well, maybe just the one.