England v Japan: What to expect from the final Wembley friendly

Football arrived in Japan under British influence in the late 19th century, yet it took until 1993 – the birth of the J League – for the national game to accelerate. For years, Japan was a footballing giant in population alone; the professional era changed that, fast‑tracking standards and ambition.

Nagoya Grampus Eight became the name English fans recognised most in the 1990s. Toyota‑run, bold in outlook, they brought Gary Lineker over at 31 and later hired Arsène Wenger – the French manager whose ideas would eventually reshape Arsenal.

The J League boomed early before hitting financial turbulence towards the decade’s end, just as Japan prepared to co‑host the 2002 World Cup. Their first appearance came in 1998: narrow defeats to Argentina and Croatia, and just one European‑based player in their ranks – the pioneering playmaker Hidetoshi Nakata.

Then came 2002, a defining moment. Japan reached the Round of 16, their game built on technical precision, Brazilian influence, and an insistence on teamwork and movement. It was elegant, but, against the cynical edge of world football, sometimes too light, too fragile.

By the early 2000s, Nakata was joined in Europe by Shunsuke Nakamura, who lit up Scotland and became one of the finest players of his generation in the domestic game.

But novelty fades. In 2006, Japan were eliminated at the group stage. Their technical sharpness no longer shocked anyone. The squad now blended domestic and European‑based talent, yet the questions around physicality persisted.

Philippe Troussier had shaped their early‑2000s identity. Adaptable, aggressive, he used three at the back and midfield density to maximise their strengths. His tactical bravery impressed, though it faltered against Turkey in 2002. Still, Japan showed a rare courage to adapt game‑by‑game.

Zico followed, but his Brazil‑bred attacking instincts came at the cost of structure. Defensive discipline eroded, unpredictability diminished, and Japan became far easier to read.

The JFA then turned again to Takeshi Okada. With emerging talents like Keisuke Honda and Shinji Okazaki, Japan steadied. Okada brought clarity and pragmatism, guiding them to another Round of 16 finish in South Africa in 2010.

Spain and Barcelona’s dominance inspired a global shift towards possession football, and Alberto Zaccheroni leaned fully into it with a modern 4‑2‑3‑1. Japan played expressive, technical football, winning the 2011 Asian Cup – but, at the 2014 World Cup, stronger nations punished their lack of physical edge.

Progress required balance. Strengths were clear; weaknesses were repetitive.

Akira Nishino took charge next, guiding Japan at the World Cup after Vahid Halilhodžić departed. A modern tactician, Nishino switched between a 4‑2‑3‑1 and a 4‑2‑2‑2 diamond, adjusting to opponents and protecting his team’s limitations. Japan became more than watchable again – they became dangerous. His domestic success with Gamba Osaka gave him authority, and even traditionally attacking players like Shinji Kagawa bought into collective graft. Leading Belgium 2–0 in 2018, Japan stood on the brink of history before heartbreak arrived in the final minutes.

Nishino departed, and Hajime Moriyasu took over, blending everything Japan had learned. He has Europe‑based talent, tactical flexibility, and a realism his predecessors lacked.

The 2022 World Cup proved it. Wins over Germany and Spain cemented their status as elite disruptors. Moriyasu deployed three and five‑man defences, pressed intelligently, and kept his side compact. They had only 18% possession against Spain yet still won. Ironically, they faltered against Costa Rica, who gave them the ball, and Croatia, who were simply too polished.

Today, Japan can shift between a back three or four. Wataru Endo anchors their structure; Takefusa Kubo and Kaoru Mitoma provide explosive threat. They sit in Group F this summer with the Netherlands, Tunisia and the Path B qualifier.

At Wembley, a 4‑2‑3‑1 feels likely. They’ll welcome England’s high press, then look for cracks: pulling defenders out, springing counters, and hitting wide areas quickly.

It may well be that Moriyasu’s penchant for tactical switches, and Japan’s ability to spring surprises, make them the perfect final opponents before England head to the USA World Cup. One might favour a convincing home win on history alone – but the threat posed by Kubo and Mitoma behind England’s full‑backs, combined with Japan’s growing confidence without the ball, could present Tuchel with a far knottier evening than expected.