Why Rams Fans Are Still Split as He Reunites with Paul Warne at MK Dons There are some players you only really notice when they’re not there anymore. Curtis Nelson was one of them. Not a name that sold shirts or lit up highlight reels, but a defender many Derby County fans trusted when the […]

There are some players you only really notice when they’re not there anymore.
Curtis Nelson was one of them. Not a name that sold shirts or lit up highlight reels, but a defender many Derby County fans trusted when the game turned ugly.
When the ball was being launched into the box in the last five minutes, when Pride Park was holding its breath, when points had to be protected rather than chased, Nelson was often the one heading clear.
Now 32 and reunited with Paul Warne at MK Dons, his departure has quietly turned into one of those debates that keeps resurfacing in the stands, on away coaches, and online.
Not out of anger, but uncertainty.
So, were Derby right to let him go? Or was this one of those decisions that only starts to feel risky once the dust has settled?
We all remember the collective groan when Derby pushed the line up, and the ball went over the top.
In games where the Rams tried to squeeze teams high, Nelson could be exposed by quicker forwards running in behind. It wasn’t always costly, but it always felt risky.
In this division, pace on the break kills you, and fans could see why the club wanted defenders better suited to that approach.
When full-backs were caught high and games opened up, Nelson was often dragged into the channels.
Against sharp wingers or physical forwards pulling wide, those one-v-one moments didn’t always feel comfortable, especially in the closing stages when legs were heavy.
Supporters understood why management wanted more recovery speed in those situations.
There were games where Derby tried to slow things down and build patiently, and you could sense the tension when Nelson was pressed.
He was safe, sensible, and rarely reckless but not progressive.
Fans noticed when possession recycled rather than moved forward, inviting pressure rather than relieving it. For a side trying to evolve, that mattered.
During congested fixture spells, there were moments when Nelson looked a yard off the pace.
Not careless just human. Three games in a week in this league is unforgiving, and supporters could see that managing his minutes was becoming more of a necessity than a luxury.
There were fixtures where fans accepted he wasn’t the right fit, particularly away games against pressing, energetic sides.
He had become more of a horses-for-courses option, and when that happens, supporters know change usually follows.
Cold nights. Direct football. Endless second balls. These were Nelson’s matches. When football became less about patterns and more about survival, he was reliable.
In this division, those games still matter, and fans remember feeling safer when he was in the side.
Whether it was sustained pressure or a crowd turning hostile, Nelson rarely looked flustered. He organised, cleared his lines, and kept things simple.
For supporters watching Derby dig in away from home, that composure was reassuring especially when momentum was swinging the wrong way.
When Derby were clinging onto narrow leads, Nelson was often the defender fans wanted on the pitch.
Late crosses, set-pieces, and long throws, he dealt with them.
That last-20-minute reliability is hard to replace, and some fans aren’t convinced it has been yet.
Injuries and suspensions never caused panic when Nelson was available. He could come in after weeks out and still look like he belonged.
Promotion-winning sides need players like that not just starters, but dependable depth who don’t need rhythm to perform.
This is the part that keeps the debate alive. Warne knew Nelson’s limitations better than anyone — and still wanted him.
If he’s good enough for a manager chasing success elsewhere, fans are entitled to wonder whether Derby moved on too early rather than too late.
On paper, the decision makes sense. Younger legs. Different profiles. A desire to play a different way.
But football isn’t played on paper it’s played in moments.
And when games turn scrappy, frantic, and emotional, some supporters still feel Derby lost a player they trusted when it mattered most.
This isn’t about saying Curtis Nelson was perfect. It’s about whether Derby replaced the security he offered, not just the attributes.
And that’s why this debate won’t go away.
If Derby were defending a one-goal lead tomorrow, in the pouring rain, with pressure mounting… would you feel more comfortable with Curtis Nelson on the pitch or without him?
That answer probably tells you everything.