It is undeniable that Stoke are and were a solid club defensively,  conceding relatively few goals and approaching maths in a safety first way.  But this is only safe because of Pulis’ excellent ability to instil a defensive rigour in his team that few other coaches possess,  give Roberto Martinez a similarly stationed team,   and he will fail.  To suggest that positionally defensive football is somehow intrinsically more effective with relatively weaker players is just nonsensical.  So,  to pursue a style of football that was effective for Stoke,  with their particular set of circumstances,  with an exceptional defensive coach who struggles to train attacking moves of any complexity,  such as strategy is the best in minimizing risk,  and hence giving yourself an oppertunity to stay up.  But to say it is a model,  as Doyle did,  seems misplaced,  the model is to do whatever effectively allows you to minimize risk.  For Wigan,  that was and agressive brand of 343 that utilised width,  along shots and cut-backs.  For Rodgers’ Swansea it was highly sterilised possession football.  For Warnock’s Crystal Palace,  it is intense aggression in pressing,  directness from out wide.  Should any of these teams attempt to play like Stoke,  they would fail miserably,  because their players and managers are incapable or reluctant to engage in such a model.  Yet their teams all equalled,  or bettered Stoke’s performance (with the exception of Palace,  who seem highly likely yo go down,  something I attribute to a managerial naivety of Neil Warnock,  rather than anything inherently risk averse in pressing).  INdeed,  the German team Augsburg,  currently riding high at third place in the Bundesliga,  play an intensely direct,  pressing game.  But this is indefinately less risky for them than merely sitting deep,  you may as well make use of your relative height and fitness advantages if you have them,  something pressing most certainly does.

Essentially then,  the notion of minimizing risk is not a case of playing in any particular style,  but recognising your team (and your own) limitations,  and working out how best to use your strengths in a way that maximises the likelyhood of getting points.  This,  undoubtedly,  is aided by possessing better players (which may,  in turn,  be intrinsically predisposed to one type of football,  but may also be inaccessible in the market to certain teams).  My notion appears vacuous,  but it is a starting point,  a more accurate one than that which can be derived from Doyle’s loose sentence.

In this week’s podcast, we discuss the future of the 4-4-2, Manchester City vs. Spurs, some pre-match thoughts on Utd vs. Chelsea (how wrong we were!),  El Clasico,  as well as several footballing eternal questions, in a frankly tangential look at the beautiful game this week.

Hope you enjoy!

CW & OW, 29/10/14

Essentially, three businesses dominant in their respective fields run the ISL. Reliance, India’s largest business enterprise; IMG, the global sports and media company; and Star India, the subcontinent’s largest TV and entertainment network, all own equal stakes in the venture.

The idea that such corporate powerhouses should monopolise revenue from the promotion of a sport which, globally, already makes £28 billion, leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Granted, it is perhaps necessary for such big corporate players to take the reigns where the aim is nothing less than to put football in India “on the global map”. Star India’s broadcasting expertise, for example, may well prove invaluable in achieving this. Yet there is an underhand circularity to this aim: it is an aim set out by the three companies themselves, and not any footballing body.

The person, for example, who asserted “Our objective is nothing short of creating movement around football in India… we want to put India on the global map” was none other than the CEO of Star India himself, Uday Shankar. The person who asserted “We hope the growing football footprint will pave the way for the nation’s sporting renaissance” was the chairperson of Reliance, Nita Ambani. The person who asserted “The ISL envisions creating new football powerhouses in this part of the world” was the CEO of IMG, Mike Dolan. In other words, the ISL is no brainchild of the AIFF (the Indian FA), at whose behest the corporate triumvirate are dutifully acting. No, the ISL is an entirely self-contained corporate enterprise, the assets of which are therefore ripe for monetization by the companies who run it. The AIFF does endorse, but merely endorses, the ISL’s existence, which was jointly proposed and set-up by IMG and Reliance, and not by anyone at the AIFF. One only need Google the ISL logo to see who it really belongs to.  

Of course, insofar as one can distinguish the noble aims from the gold-rush, the ISL still appears worthwhile. It is surely a tantalising prospect for those who feel football in India is under-established. The ISL’s promises to implement football development projects at grassroots level across the country are heartening. As is the promise to groom any talent identified at grassroots level to professional standards, under the wings of a new generation of Indian coaches.

Yet to distinguish between the noble aims and the money is really to misconceive the ISL’s true, dual nature. The owner of every club, or ‘franchise’ in the ISL was required to make grassroots-development promises to be allowed to bid for ownership in the first place. For example, Bollywood star Salman Khan, owner of Pune City FC, was required to plan for the development of grassroots football in Pune. But to acquire the franchise at all, Khan’s wealth and celebrity status were themselves virtual requirements. Furthermore, the rule of having at least four local (and fourteen Indian) players in each squad is curiously offset by the compulsory signing of a so-called “marquee player”; Alessandro Del Piero of the Delhi Dynamos being the most high-profile example. This championing of, at once, moneyed celebrities and local everymen, could not be more typical of modern football.

But why, then, does football possess such a dual nature? On the face of it, football seems internally incoherent; the ‘people’s game’ and yet parochially aloof from the people it purports to represent.

The answer lies with joy. For anyone who understands a posteriori the sheer joy football can bring, the way in which it can bring people together like almost no other pursuit in existence, the idea that it should be promoted as far and wide as possible is nigh-on axiomatic.

Yet this is precisely why the promotion of football, especially in areas where it is less established such as India, manifests itself in such money-driven bombast. It is not simply that football’s essential joyfulness attracts people keen exploit it for cash. It is that football’s joyfulness somehow justifies the treasure-hunt. By the logic of those behind the Indian Super League, the end of promoting football – promoting joy – justifies the means. Or to put their logic another way: if football essentially possesses a heart of gold – what with the joy the pure game brings to so many people – then the body surrounding the heart and enabling it to function must also be made of gold. Specifically, corporate gold.

Modern football, then, is one big paradox. Implicit in the ISL is the notion that the game is simply too entertaining for too many people, for the corporate trio’s monopoly and the celebrity hype to really matter. The passion of the many justifies the greed of the few. This principle can quite easily be said to apply to modern football in general.

Perhaps it can even be said (and many have said this) that this principle is not merely contingent, but necessary. In other words, football is so popular that its corporate monetization and celebrity culture could not but have occurred. Football, many claim, has grown too big for its own boots; the everyman’s hobnail pair it once adorned torn apart at the seams by fat-cat corporate feet.

In the final analysis, it is hard to be sure about that view. It seems no less plausible that the monetization of football (resulting in the game’s being broadcasted across the globe) has helped cause its immense popularity, and not just the other way round. But what is certain is that modern football is a double-edged sword. Its essential joyfulness and ability to unite people rests in an uneasy alliance with money-lust and celebrity cults, whether this is necessarily the case or not. And the Indian Super League, played as it is under the dazzling light of the Indian sun, could hardly make this double-edged sword glare any more fiercely.

CW, 22/10/14

…

a)

The teams (predicted):

1.  Two up-front – A rather odd statement,  but two clever interchanging front men has come back into vogue recently.  More importantly,  Chelsea has shown signs of struggling against two front men,  most noticeably against Leicester,  but also on many occasions last season.  In particular,  Gary Cahill is notorious for backing off from men running at him,  and uncomfortable at defending the right (left for attacking team) hand channel.  John Terry is also susceptible to pace,  albeit has the cleverness and slyness to cope in a way that Cahill does not.  Chelsea have also struggled against Radamel Falcao,  conceding an admittedly beautifully executed hat-trick 2 years ago.  It is not difficult to imagine a situation with Falcao up 1 vs 1 against Cahill,  Matic having to patrol a space with Mata (a positionally intelligent player at the worst of times),  with Di Maria bursting past Fabregas if any quick break oppertunities emerge.

2.  The push-pull midfield – Given Chelsea’s incredibly fluid midfield line-up,  (albeit one that has been incredibly well restrained by Mourinho in big games),  it is easy to see how contrary movements from Di Maria and Herrera may cause Chelsea some problems.  Chelsea could potentially be undone by Van Gaal moving Herrera incredibly deep,  almost on the same line as Blind.  Matic would then find it difficult to move so high up the pitch in isolation.  For the whole team to do so would risk Di Maria or Mata getting space to run at Chelsea’s back four,  if the whole team was to move up,  space in behind would be conceded.  If Herrera moves forward at a significantly slower pace than Di Maria,  and Fabregas is even caught slightly too high up the pitch,  Chelsea could be undone.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                However, Chelsea clearly remain the favourites,  and have one particular weapon tactically.

1.  Ramires:  The best ‘negator’ in world football – The title of most useful negator (namely,  the player who can most effectively be used as a tactical weapon to prevent a particular strategy or player of the opposition),  used to go to Ji Sung Park.  Ramires is now a fine contender for the title.  Initially used as a box to box midfielder to compensate for Lampard’s declining stamina,  he then turned into a fine defensive wide-player,  tracking full backs (on either side of the pitch),  bursting past them in transitional phases of play.  He is now being used again out-wide,  often in a very narrow right sided role to add energy and bustle to a team who can be outnumbered without his presence.  He could easily help to track Di Maria,  or at least stop him receiving the ball (though the potential threat of Luke Shaw is also a worry).  United also appear to be eminently pressable,  Rojo doesn’t look amazingly composed,  Rafael isn’t exactly concentrated the whole time,  while Blind will be persistently harried by Oscar,  something that many luminaries (including the wonderfully composed Pirlo) have struggled to cope with.  Given Mourinho’s relative emphasis on pressing,  it would not be atypical to see a harrying start,  followed by a sudden dip in intensity,  dropping into an asymmetrical 4231/433,  exploiting spaces that open up wide of Daley Blind on the counter attack.  Of course,  Mourinho may opt for Willian in a similar system,  which would indicate a more reactive,  less intense defensive structure.  The latter is more in keeping with traditional big game Mourinho,  but he could easily opt for an aggressive press for fear of letting United get into any rhythm,  especially with Daley Blind’s undoubted quality on the ball.

2.  Eden Hazard – One of the best dribblers in world football has been developing an end product.  Eden Hazard has been crucial to Chelsea’s start,  though often indirectly in ways difficult to statistically quantify.  If the formations above are correct,  Hazard will quite likely have an oppertunity to easily drift into Blind’s zone,  or get 1 vs 1 with Rafael.  This is incredibly dangerous considering how incredibly good a dribbler Hazard is,  and with space to drift into,  will inevitably cause United problems.

3.  Full-back width -

Mourinho has been very hesitant to use an attacking left-back for his whole tenure at Chelsea.  On Sunday,  I suspect Filipe Luis will buck that trend.  With United’s diamond being particularly narrow on the right hand side,  lots of space will emerge for one of the best attacking left backs in world football.  Lots of running crosses from Hazard lay-offs should be anticipated,  sometimes expect infield drifts if Hazard chooses to attack Rafael directly.

Prediction:

A tight and cagey 1-2 win for Chelsea,  courtesy of Eden Hazard dribbles inside and outside Rafael.

OW 25/10/14

2. Mason’s deep running – Ryan Mason had another good game.  On this occasion,  it was for his continual deep runs,  providing verticality to a Tottenham Attack whose movement is generally lateral.  On 3 occasions,  Mason got shots away from advanced positions on the run,  indeeed,  it was the main strategy that City appeared uneasy with. In performing well,  Mason did contribute to a structural imbalance in the Spurs’ midfield,  consequently producing a rather open game that would be presumed to favour the better team

3. Pochettino’s pressing – In a previous round-up,  I suggested that Mauricio Pochettino’s pressing had not yet been implemented.  Here,  it was no more evident.  Admittedly,  in spells (including a press on Fernando that led to the second goal),  it was present,  but far more structured,  action oriented pressing than the intense block pressing seen at Southampton

4. Roberto Soldado – He has,  admittedly,  had a rather poor time in England.  However,  the criticism  he got today was totally unjustified.  His penalty miss,  was admittedly,  terrible, a lacklustre pass to the left corner.   But he made intelligent runs into the right hand channel,  contributed to some slick build up play,  got into a great position to meet Chadli’s left sided cross.  He has been generally awful for the club,  but today was not one of his worst days.

5. Joe Hart – Why he is being praised for his performance is beyond me.  The Tottenham goal was essentially an error from him.  A tough shot to save,  but it seemed to be malhandled by him.  Lloris was far more convincing in every respect.

6. Passing playmakers – Both teams started with notional number 10s in Silva and Eriksen.  Both are similar kinds of players,  those who drift into pockets of space in between both horizontal and vertical lines (half spaces),  often on the turn.  Both had very good games,  Eriksen scoring,  Silva making an all-round nuisance of himself.  But both seemed very reluctant to shoot,  in particular Eriksen (though the most notable occurance was Silva’s mystifying attempt to play in Aguero when in plenty of space to shoot from a reasonable location).

7. James Milner – In 2012,  James Milner was tragically underrated by most football fans.  Much like Claude Makelele,  this talk of his non-appreciation has made everyone aware of his qualities (though often identifying the totally wrong ones).  People usually talk up his defensive skill,  ball striking ability,  diligence,  professionalism,  and other fairly empty platitudes.  Far more important today was his appreciation of space.  Continually moving inside to allow Aguero to run outside of his,  interacting with Silva,  while also contributing to moving Dier narrow,  he played brilliantly.

8. Federico Fazio – I could be totally wrong on this,  but in the lead up to the 4th Penalty decision,  Fazio beautifully evaded two City attackers,  glided into the opposition half,  and played the ball forward.  Unfortunately,  he didn’t appear to get into position quickly enough,  and appeared like he was sprinting back in order to prevent Aguero from getting an easy finish,  rather than being correctly positioned in the first place.

9. Refereeing – Talking about it appears tasteless,  but Jon Moss did not exactly perform well in the match.  To criticse him for the Aguero goal is harsh,  the rules governing interference with play are very difficult to interpret standardly,  he would have been a brave man to rule it out.  The first penalty decision was incorrect,  if understandable,  Lampard clearly did receive contact,  if only because of momentum as a consequence of him stretching for the ball,  there was no intentionality on behalf of Lamela.  The 2nd penalty was right,  the 3rd totally incorrect (Soldado did not appeared to be ffouled,  I thought there was a whiff of handball about it,  and any offence took place outside the area).  The 4th was right,  penalty and red-card justified (on a sidenote,  how terrible was Kaboul in cloming across to Navas).  A certain red-card.

10. Punditry – Not that this is surprising in a studio containing Tim Sherwood and Steve McManaman,  and that paradigm of trivial cliches and tautologous statements Michael Owen in the commentary box,  but this really was an exercise in ego-massaging and nonsense speaking.   Particularly insightful in their ignorance was Sherwoods claim that he wanted to ‘retain attacking threat’ when he managed against City (unsurprisingly,  they convincingly lost),  another Sherwood claim that Harry Kane was a better player than Soldado (again,  ludicrous),  a McManaman suggestion that Sherwoods departure was unfair,  a claim as far removed from the truth as any I have heard.  Owen continually suggested that the Costa vs Aguero top goalscoring battle was in some way significant,  as if goals racked up in large wins or off the bench are in some way indicative or correlated to league success.

Yet, for Mauricio Pochettino, this choice seems not merely rational, but easy. For a man who established his own youthful self at a team called ‘Newell’s Old Boys’, his seemingly boundless belief in the ability of locally-trained youngsters, and youngsters in general, is remarkable. On Sunday against Arsenal, Tottenham’s great historic rivals and their rivals for a Champions League place, he started Enfield boy Ryan Mason, whose recent experience includes spells at Yeovil and Doncaster, peaking with a spell at FC Lorient in France. Hardly, you might think, the right poker to be thrusting into the fire of such an important game.

Mason thrived. An unimposing, even waifish figure, Mason’s presence in central midfield belied his physical stature. Quick-thinking on the ball and snappy in the pass, he exerted a calm authority where far more established players toiled and flickered, Mesut Özil chief among them.

Yet the extent of Pochettino’s faith in youngsters at Spurs, having only recently taken the managerial reigns, doesn’t nearly end there. Academy product Danny Rose has been recalled as first-choice left-back, with fellow graduate Nabil Bentaleb also starting regularly. Eric Dier, a young English defender with no previous experience in English football, was recently signed by Pochettino, starting and scoring in his first two games. Perhaps most striking of all is the emergence of Harry Kane, from bit-part obscurity at Spurs and an anonymous loan spell at Norwich, to the glare of the limelight under the Argentine.

At Southampton, Pochettino famously established an academy core which played genuinely high-octane football, with Luke Shaw, Calum Chambers and James Ward-Prowse all afforded weekly starts. He also handed the forward Sam Gallagher and the midfielder Harrison Reed regular game time, with Gallagher even scoring on his debut. That both Shaw and Chambers secured transfers worth tens of millions, joining Man United and Arsenal respectively, is great testament to his approach. That Southampton secured eighth place with matches to spare is perhaps even more so.

Even prior to that, at Espanyol, Pochettino famously rebuilt a club in crisis on the foundations of youth. He steered the club from the relegation zone to a top-half finish in under a season, promoting some 20 academy players in a two-and-a-half year stint.

Clearly, therefore, Pochettino’s approach has been extremely successful. Indeed, given academy products cost (relatively speaking) nothing to develop, it is from a purely financial perspective, the obvious choice. But what sets him apart; what renders his faith in youth so great in the first place? What makes him hand relative greenhorns a firm spot in his teams when, generally speaking, they do not guarantee short-term, let alone long-term success?

To simply point to the success of his young players, as sufficient explanation for his initial faith in them, would be patently ridiculous. To do so would be to rely on hindsight to an absurd degree, and Pochettino, for all his ability, is no seer of the future. For all Pochettino could be truly certain of at the time he brought his youngsters through, they (like all young players) could easily have failed.

Set against this truism, though, is the nagging sense that Pochettino was more or less certain, or at least, thought it highly likely, that his upstarts would succeed. The idea that he was simply foolhardy and got lucky grates in almost equal measure as the idea that he could have been certain – so consistent has his success with youth been. Which, again, points us towards the view of Pochettino as a sort of ‘seer’, albeit in a more diluted and less literal way. After all, if it was even remotely easy to predict whether youth would flourish or not (let alone in such a demanding environment as the Premier League), then far more managers would surely take Pochettino’s approach.

The answer to the riddle of Pochettino’s faith in youth, and his consistent success in developing youth, is far from simple. When you truly analyse his career and his methods, though, the answer begins (just like his youngsters) to emerge. Firstly, Pochettino largely had no choice but to pick young players when at Espanyol, burdened by financial difficulties. Such a situation, although not uncommon in management, is rarely faced on the scale Pochettino had to face it then. Hence, Pochettino was in in a sense conditioned to view the promotion of youth as a less unusual step than many other managers. But of course, it was still Pochettino’s choice to take on the job in the first place; he knew beforehand it would require the promotion of youth en masse.

Secondly, Pochettino possesses an unusual conception of risk, perhaps influenced by the experience of leaving home aged 14 to live alone in a freezing pensión, or “guesthouse” (the English translation makes it sound far nicer than it was). Before taking on the daunting Espanyol job, he told the club that “everything in life is a risk”. For Pochettino, the element of risk inherent in bringing through youngsters would not, therefore, mark it out in the same way it might for others.

Thirdly, his tactics seem unusually compatible with the mentality of young, unestablished players. It is far easier to conceive of youngsters buying into his strict high-pressing game than established players, simply because they have more to prove and are hence more likely to obey strict instructions. Yet at the same time, Pochettino allows for a high degree of positional flexibility in an attacking sense. Seeing Jay Rodriguez right out on the wings for Southampton, for example, was very common, despite Rodriguez nominally operating as a centre-forward. This flexibility gives youngsters the chance to show-off their skills without worrying as much about positional discipline, something which often only develops with age.

Fourthly, Pochettino is renowned within the game for his lack of favouritism. It is an approach he explicitly spelled out upon joining Espanyol, his first managerial job, asserting “it doesn’t matter who the person is…. As a player I was demanding; as a manager I will be too”. This lack of favouritism both helps youngsters to feel more valued, and acts as added motivation to impress.

Finally, though, it is the combination of all this that offers the true secret to his success. That is, the combination of taking repeated (but proven) risks with young but talented players, sticking by tactics which satiate such players’ desire to prove themselves, and creating as meritocratic an environment as possible in which such players can develop.

Above all, Pochettino is ‘daring to know’ – not in the sense of possessing literal knowledge, but in Immanuel Kant’s Enlightenment sense of possessing conviction in one’s own judgement – that when all this is combined, success will be had. His secret ingredient is his conviction in his own judgments. In a sense, this ingredient may be obvious. But, without it, nothing else would matter; not his tactics geared towards youngsters, not his lack of favouritism, nor even his ambivalence towards risk. It does not make it any less admirable or worthy of acknowledgement that he dares to know young players will succeed, where virtually all other managers merely dabble with them indecisively. And in this age of transfer-driven, big-name, crazy-money football, any football manager who dares to know that could hardly be more enlightened.

CW, 2/10/14

It is easy to deride him as untalented.  Yet this is flawed on two levels.  Firstly,  it fails to identify how difficult the skill is.  What other midfielder can be as offensively productive from such a deep position (yet alone his disciplined defensive duties).   No-one I can think of did what he did (perhaps only Michael Ballack,  and he did it with his head,  rather than his feet),  perhaps because he was a anachronism,  a player with the skill-set typically utilized in a dynamic dual midfielder set up,  yet was taught to utilize this energy with efficiency in a midfield trio .  But it is also wrong because the premise is simply untrue.  While his talents were limited, what people seem to forget is that the skill he perfected was not natural,  but learned.   Indeed,  learning was his talent.  In his first 2 seasons,  he scored 11 league goals,  not bad,  but not the record one would expect for someone of his predatory instincts.  The season after,  admittedly with better players,  and in Claude Makelele,  a natural covering midfielder,  he got 10,  nearly doubling his total of goals in one season.  In Mourinho’s first year,  he got 13,  16 the season after,  in 2009/10,  22 goals in 36 games.  This was a development,  going from a player with undoubted potential to score goals,  to a proven goalscorer,  from ‘Fat Frank’ to a player with undoubted staying power.   Nor were the goals unimportant.  He scored in FA Cup Finals,  Champions League finals and knockout games,  Premier League title winning matches.

Yet the striking similarity of so many of Lampard’s goals to his goal vs Chelsea seem to confirm his one dimensional nature.  So many times he ghosted into the box at pace,  and swiping it into the goal,  clean contact or not.  In this sense he is the Pippo Inzaghi of midfielders,  a player of whom everyone knows what he is going to do,  yet is never seen until it is too late.  This,  in addition to his set piece goals,  and his frequent bouncing,  often deflated long range strikes.  But to talk of his goascoring is to do him a disservice.  His assist tally was massive,  his indirect set-piece delivery responsible for Chelsea’s general prowess from these situations,  carefully measured slide rule passes on counter attacks,  measured passing to retain a moves intensity,  a deceptively well-timed tackle.  Yet all these things are still skills,  rather than a natural trait based upon coordination,  supreme technique of physical agility.  They are all trained.  It is a testament to the effectiveness of his learning that someone of such limited natural gifts could come 2nd in the Ballon Do’r,  and be the integral part of Chelsea’s team for 8 successive years,  under 7 managers.

This is Lampard’s greatest asset.  The ability to accurately assess his own game,  and improve the areas required to make him as effectively as possible.  In every area of his game,  he developed,  physical,  mental,  technical,  tactical.  Mourinho was the man who reaped most effectiveness from him.  On Sunday,  he was made to pay.

OW 23/9/14

Yet, as much as it would be weirdly amusing to discover that the charging about is just a ruse, there is a method behind the madness. This method is – to put it very crudely – the exploitation of space as effectively as possible. Hence, important goals generally look simple because the players who score them have, if only for a moment, found the space in which to operate. For all that football is, well, ‘foot’-‘ball’, it is essentially far more chess-like in nature than its name would appear to suggest. Which is why, as much as the historic resonance of Frank Lampard’s late equalizer against Chelsea has been rightly emphasized, his goal also stands out because it epitomizes Lampard’s career-long mastery of football as chess. For a player not borne of great natural technique, and as he himself has admitted, never having been born “a Lionel Messi”, Lampard’s appreciation of space prevails. Manifested supremely in the timing of his runs, it is itself a timely reminder of football’s final frontier. In this rarefied age of footballing athleticism, those players who can both find and exploit space are, ultimately, the ones who will reach the moon.

Against Chelsea on Sunday, the spin, the sudden burst of pace and then the check to take James Milner’s lay-off in his stride all exemplified Lampard’s career-long space odyssey. The look of anguish on former team-mate John Terry’s face as the ball slipped past Courtois suggested he knew as much would happen all along. Most striking of all, however, was the fact that, when Lampard made his quick burst, he was already in considerable space. His sprint was, therefore, not simply an attempt to escape a marker; rather, it was an attempt to find space within space, to narrow the margins even further. In this way, it is easy to think of Lampard as a sort of human ‘subtle knife’, able to carve space from space itself, much like the eponymous knife in Philip Pullman’s fantasy novel. Indeed, conceiving the exploitation of space as a sort of ‘fantasy’ quality already seems firmly established in footballing parlance. The phrases “ghosts into space”; “glides into space”; “conjures a chance out of nowhere”; are all employed routinely by commentators, and all convey a sense of the sheer esteem in which players who can exploit space are held.

By the very same token, the meteoric rise in the last four years of Thomas Mueller is no coincidence – from a player whom Diego Maradona mistook for a ball-boy in 2010, to one of the world’s most feared players in 2014. Since well before his rise to superstardom, Mueller has considered himself not a forward, not a midfielder, nor even an ‘attacker’ in the loosest sense of the term. Rather, he describes his playing position as a “raumdeuter”, or, “interpreter of space”, which in a sense is to ascribe himself no position at all. Simply put, wherever there is space in the opposing half, Mueller self-consciously seeks to exploit it. What exactly this self-styled “interpretation of space” involves, though, is – to extend the ‘fantasy’ analogy even further – something quite mysterious, inexplicable even. Which is presumably why players such as Mueller and Lampard, conspicuous by their lack of any outstanding technical or even physical attributes, nevertheless inspire such fear, and such awe. Not forgetting, too, it is presumably why they both score so many goals.

Many would argue that humanity’s final frontier, space, was conquered with the moon landings in 1969. Perhaps, too, a little of the awesomeness of space was lost when Neil Armstrong set foot on another world. Yet Frank Lampard, in securing an equalizer against Chelsea when Mourinho’s bus seemed firmly parked in front of City’s ten men, showed space to be the only way forward as far as football is concerned. There is simply nowhere else to look when up against players whose athleticism effectively reduces the pitch to little more than a back garden. Especially not for for a 36-year-old veteran only with City as a pit-stop en route to his Stateside sojourn in New York. Indeed, perhaps unlike outer space, it is probably fair to say footballing space has never seemed more mysterious or awesome. And, as for players who can exploit footballing space? They’ve never seemed more awesome, either.

CW, 22/9/14

Chelsea did their business early, and well.  Mourinho first turned to the midfield area, sacrificing David Luiz (for a mind-boggling £45 million), bringing in Cesc Fabregas from Barcelona. This appeared an odd move, considering Mourinho’s penchant for more naturally robust midfielders, but he immediately offers a source of creativity that can prize open a highly defensive team, something that cost Chelsea the league last season. Next he turned his attention to the striking berth, removing all four of the strikers on Chelsea’s books, and bringing in three.  Costa is a marked improvement on any of Chelsea’s previous options, providing both pace in behind defenses and a refined brand of hold up play reminiscent of Diego Milito’s role in Mourinho’s Inter team. Loic Remy was a late buy, probably brought in for squad depth to protect against injuries and jadedness. Drogba’s homecoming was far more strategic, in both a psychological (he brings an aura back to Chelsea) and tactical (he offers a physical presence that allows Chelsea to avoid playing out from the back when circumstances demand it) sense. He then turned to the defensive 3^rd, again raiding Atletico Madrid to get Filipe Luis,  a undoubtedly high class full-back who provides more offensive width than his predecessors,  albeit at a high price for a 27 year old. Chelsea also gain returning loanees of Courtois and Zouma, strengthen Chelsea immeasurably over the long term. All this was done at a profit, with the sales of Lukaku, Luiz and Ba.  The losses of Lampard and Cole are more symbolic than causing any effective damage to the squad, while also reducing the clubs wage bill substantially.   They were followed out the door by a large number of loanees,  largely consisting of talented youngsters who cannot (and perhaps will never) be accommodated into Chelsea’s squad.

Arsenal:

With Arsenal’s transfer window, you get the lingering feeling of missed opportunity. Sanchez brings much to the table, pace in behind, a staggering work-rate and tactical understanding of the game. This, along with the surprising late addition of Danny Welbeck, offers Arsenal greater pace, and more vertical runs for Ozil to find while in pockets of space. Behind them, Chambers looks a promising buy, a player who seems to ally pace, strength and positional intelligence.   He certainly offers a potential improvement on Vermaelen,  though his and Sanga’s departure create a lack of depth in defense,  6 players for 4 places. Nor did  Arsenal address their supposedly perennial problem,   the lack of a natural holding midfielder,  capable of breaking up play,  and initiating attacks/regulating the ball. Arsenal may strongly regret the failure of Adrian Rabiot to join the club, a typical Wenger player who was linked from PSG. Still, it is undeniable that Arsenal improved over the transfer window.  Unfortunately, this improvement was necessary to stand still.

Everton:

The transfer window for Everton was defined by stability. Unusually, this stability entailed a very large spend, a consequence of the number of loanees Everton possessed last season. The first accomplishment was renewing the contracts of Stones and Barkley, who had drawn envious glances from Chelsea in particular. As important was the retention of last year’s loanees, Lukaku at a £28 million cost, though one that gives Everton arguably the best forward at exploiting open space in the league, albeit one whose touch is often deficient.  Gareth Barry also returns on a free transfer, though his wage and contract length are a concern, considering his age. Despite this, he was crucial last season in dropping deep to make a back 3 in order to allow the supreme attacking talents of full-backs Baines and Coleman to advance. Everton were very astute in signing Besic, a holding midfielder presumably signed to replace Barry in the long term (sharing his left footedness, albeit possessing some youthful positional indiscipline). Samuel Eto’o also joins as a bench option, probably wisely considering his prolific scoring record at every club he has joined, though it is wise to note that he fails to offer a particularly different style of striking option from those already at the club.

Liverpool:

Liverpool had the least enviable task in football this summer, replacing Luis Suarez.  They also had to dramatically increase squad depth to cope with European competition. Rodgers has used the money well.  The first half of the window was spent signing proven Premier League players with a relationship between one another, Lallana, Lambert and Lovren all signed from Southampton. All offer a distinct quality Liverpool lacked last season, Lallana provides a wonderful appreciation of space between the lines, even if his lack of pace renders his price-tag too high.  Lambert is a cheap bench option to hold up the ball, especially useful against more defensively oriented teams. Lovren resolves a problem first noticed by Gary Neville on Monday Night Football, Liverpool’s tendency to back-off when protecting a lead. Lovren’s positioning is nothing if not (overly?) aggressive and will solve this problem, though perhaps causing worse ones in the process. As the window continued, Liverpool began spending money on the continent.  Markovic’s £20 million fee seems a lot for a player as young as himself, but offers another thing Liverpool could lack last season,  natural width. Emre Can, a versatile left footed midfielder was brought in to maintain control over games, rather than continue their inherently unstable method of attack from last season. Then came three big signings.  First, Manquillo on loan from Atletico, a promising player who will come to replace the much maligned Glen Johnson.  Then, Alberto Moreno, a relative snip at £18 million, for a player widely considered to be a future Spanish international, albeit one who is better moving forward than he is as a static man marker.  Compared to United’s fee for Luke Shaw, the deal looks far better.  And then, most excitingly of all, came Mario Balotelli. The man much derided as a nutter was brought in for £16 million.  Undeniably supremely gifted, physically imposing yet possessing a touch of some finesse. His capacity to occupy two centre backs at once is vital to allowing Sturridge and Sterling to thrive, while also retaining Suarez’s movement in behind defenders (though his offside count is a worry).  It is doubtful whether the losses of Agger,  Kelly and Coates will have any impact,  Pepe Reina leaving on a permanent deal is more interesting,  theoretically suiting Rodgers high line,  yet in practice being heavily reliant on a relationship with his manager, something he had with Rafael Benitez,  and will perhaps regain with Guardiola.

OW

Manchester City:

With a veritable surfeit of attacking talent at his disposal, and with his team scoring a phenomenal 102 league goals last season to wrest the title from city rivals United, manager Manuel Pellegrini has naturally focused on securing reinforcements of a more defensive bent in this summer’s window. By far the most expensive of these is Eliaquim Mangala, with the £32 million proffered to Porto in exchange for his services constituting a British record for a defender. A young, rangy and technically exceptional centre-back courted by several other European heavyweights, Malanga appears to offer the defensive nous so sorely lacking from City in their last two Champions’ League campaigns, both of which ended – to the disappointment of owners who have invested over £1billion – in tame group stage exits. Reunited with Malanga at City is former Porto defender Fernando, who although possessive of a less-than-reassuring disciplinary record himself, nevertheless formed a partnership with Malanga at the heart of Porto’s defence so solid that Porto won the league in 2013 without tasting a single defeat. Further bolstering City’s rearguard is the experienced right-back Bacary Sagna, a mainstay of the upper echelons of English football for the last seven years with Arsenal; although, given City already employ Pablo Zabaleta at right-back, the Sagna deal seems a little unnecessary. At 29, Zabaleta is 2 years younger than Sagna, yet long-since established as one of the best defensive full-backs in the world, not to mention a hardened survivor of years of Sheikh-financed spending which could so easily have seen him depart. The Sagna deal aside, City’s other two purchases seem sensible enough, with Pellegrini old-hand Willy Caballero providing goalkeeping competition to Joe Hart, and young Argentine midfielder Bruno Zuculini joining as one for the future. Zuculini, no doubt recommended by Pellegrini’s numerous contacts in South America, serves merely to strengthen City’s ever-growing Latin connection. In terms of departures, no big names leave the squad, with several fringe players (sadly, several of whom are English) easing City’s wage bill, foremost of whom is Javi Garcia to Zenit for £13 million. Meanwhile, the triumvirate of Jack Rodwell, Micah Richards and Gareth Barry all depart in search of first-team football, and, in the cases of Rodwell and Richards, in search of fresh impetus into careers which, for all their potential as youngsters, have largely stagnated while at the Etihad.

Tottenham:

Spurs’ transfer policy in the last few months has been eerily reminiscent of City’s, in no small part due to a similarly top-heavy squad inflated by fringe Englishmen, as well as the almost customary Tottenham pre-season title-winning pretences. The encouraging difference, however, is that the two of Tottenham’s main three purchases are British, with left-back Ben Davies of Swansea (once linked with Atletico Madrid) arriving having been the sole established Welshman at Swansea, hugely impressive when thrust into the spotlight as a teenager at the behest of Michael Laudrup, no less. Clearly, if there is one thing Davies doesn’t lack, it is self-belief. Complementing Davies is a youngster with perhaps an even more impressive pedigree, in the English-Portuguese centre-back/right-back, Eric Dier, who can also play in defensive midfield. A product of the prestigious Sporting Lisbon academy, and supposedly more comfortable speaking Portuguese than English, Dier’s parents moved to Portugal when Dier was 7, which allowed him to develop as a footballer entirely independently of English footballing culture. Allying this with a demanding spell on loan at Everton aged 18, plus a naturally imposing presence, and the result is positively Mangala-esque: over a decade of honed technical proficiency, blended with a rangy physicality – and a potential England stalwart for years to come. However, if Davies and Dier are the wheat of Tottenham’s British crop, then judging by this summer’s exits, Jermain Defoe, Jake Livermore, Michael Dawson and Ezekiel Fryers are very much the chaff. Of the four cases, Defoe’s and Dawson’s exits are perhaps the most understandable, with both having reached their thirties in a league defined more than anything by its speed and physicality. Livermore’s and Fryers’s exits are more surprising, given manager Mauricio Pochettino’s propensity towards giving British youth a chance, although admittedly, Davies’s and Dier’s purchases testify to this very policy, with pedigree likely the ultimate difference between the respective duos. The other relatively high-profile leavers are Gylfi Sigurdsson, with the Icelander returning to the Swansea team where he made his name just as Ben Davies departs it, and the Brazilian Sandro, who makes the short trip across London to QPR in search of regular first-team football. Finally, one other signing of note for Spurs also made his name at Swansea, just like Sigurdsson: the Dutchman Michel Vorm, who joins as competition to first-choice keeper Hugo Lloris – in yet another similarity with City’s summer transfer business.

Manchester United:

Of all the “big seven” clubs in the Premier League, none comes close to Man United for sheer, high-profile, big-money transfer activity, for better or for worse. After a horribly regressive year under David Moyes’s stewardship, it is only understandable that a club (not to mention brand) of Manchester United’s global stature should seek to reassert its authority as swiftly and imposingly as possible. However, it is this very brand-conscious form of desperation that has led to purchases significantly over the odds in the views of all but the most virulent United fans. Luke Shaw, the teenage left-back so utterly composed in his debut season at Southampton under Mauricio Pochettino, and off the back of World Cup experience with England, arrives for around £30 million on wages of at least £100,000 per week. Yet for all Shaw’s composure, and frighteningly precise left-foot (as famous YouTube footage of England under-21 training shows), it is far from clear what justifies either the wages or the £30 million fee, a realm of money henceforth reserved for players who can either score or create the goals that win games. As a left-back, however capable he undoubtedly is in that position, Shaw offers neither. Even more high-profile is the purchase of Angel Di Maria, the triple-lunged, jet-heeled winger of Real Madrid and Argentina superstardom, at an eye-watering £60 million. Again, however, the prevailing sense is that United have paid more than Di Maria’s market value. Although an extremely able player in many ways, both physically and technically, with (like Shaw) the sheer precision of his left foot standing out, Di Maria was by no means the outstanding player at Real Madrid, with Cristiano Ronaldo, Gareth Bale and even arguably the far cheaper Luka Modric and Xabi Alonso held in higher esteem by the Real hierarchy. Indeed, the very fact Real let him go to United at all is, arguably, testament to the fact that, unlike Xabi Alonso who recently chose to leave Real against the club’s wishes, Di Maria was someone whom Real were not desperate to keep – and certainly not in the face of £60 million offers. On the other hand, though, it must be said that United have also made some far more astute-seeming, and far cheaper, buys; players whom it must also be said, have been lured by a footballing pedigree manager Louis Van Gaal possesses which his predecessor so sorely lacked. Daley Blind, who starred for Holland at the World Cup, is reunited at United with Van Gaal, who was of course Holland’s manager in Brazil before famously jetting straight to Manchester from Rio after the third-place play-off. Another defensive World Cup star also joins, the Argentinian Marcos Rojo, although unlike Blind, the Argentinian has an impeding court case amidst serious disciplinary worries; perhaps not so astute a transfer after all. The two final major signings are Falcao on a year’s loan from Monaco, a proven goalscorer for over a decade, and something of a coup considering the lack of European football United can offer this season, plus Ander Herrera, the tactically aware and neat-passing Spaniard who seems to have acquitted himself well in his short time so far at the club. Tom Cleverley and Danny Welbeck, both academy graduates, depart accordingly, with Welbeck intriguingly joining historic and current rivals Arsenal. Overall, then, a mixed bag for United, with big signings indisputably made if nothing else. How they all gel, meanwhile, in Louis Van Gaal’s new and unusual 3-5-2 formation, is very much an open question.

CW

Teleology is not a good thing to engage in. To postulate the existence of an end goal, far fixed in time, predetermined to happen through an inevitable process, is now seen as intellectually disreputable, as seen as the turmoil of the term progress, we know not what we progress from, nor what our end goal should be, or is. Universal progression as an idea relies on something objectively good to strive for, something ripped out of our mindset by the more relativistic systems of viewing the world currently prevalent, culminating in postmodernism, which removed of any idea of teleology, or even the continuity within history. Rather, lying underneath the presupposed grand narratives of politics, power and society, lie discontinuity, fragment and rupture. Yet, to me, the postulation of a teleology, a constant and inevitable process which irreversibly happens, has one role. This is to be a retroactive tool of historical analysis, to the create a framework of analysis which postulates causation between events, to create continuities, patterns , from events, however disperse, and select the facts we subjectively feel paint the most compelling picture of the subject at large. It may not be an objective look at the issue, the conclusions drawn may be heavily selective, have a sense of inevitably that we know they do not possess, it may not be inherent within the historical narrative which has occurred and occurs before our eyes,   but as long as we recognize this, I feel it is a tool to be used, to point us towards new perspectives, shed light on issues in ways that allow us to see previously obscured insights.

As indicated in the title, our focus is on the events of football. Through selection of a series of discontinuous and distant events, an interesting observation seems to emerge, one that appears to impose a framework of necessity upon it, though as I have suggested, I acknowledge that this is not present anywhere but my mind. Football is cyclical. Not in the sense that religions postulate we are, going from life to death ad infinitum, though this is also true, good teams are not eternal, they vary (yet rarely completely die), great players even less so. No, I talk of the wider meta-game football is played in, the framework which determines the way in which the game is played.   Football never repeats itself, it is less a circle than an ever modulating spiral, each era possessing similar qualities to different decades of football at different times, despite never being anywhere close to identical, while always being influenced by the most seemingly incomparable and irrelevant developments.    This manifests itself quite demonstrably in the style of play.  To look at the early 1950s is to see a revolution in football tactics, the Hungarian ‘Golden Team’, the Magical Magyars whom thrashed England 6-3 at Wembley, the first international ever lost by England playing at their iconic national stadium. This team played with previously unseen fluidity, with the withdrawn forward Hidegkuti forcing England right-half Wright into a new set of problems, to follow him up the pitch, leaving large room between center backs, or to stay put, and allow one of the most technically gifted players of the era to roam free. England did neither, and were blown of the park by the wizardry of Kocsics and Czsibor, and the sheer efficient one footed (yet two footed, because of his sheer brilliance with the outside of his left foot) beauty of Puskas, by far the most known player of that team, the one remembered by the historical memory, perhaps because he was the most idiosyncratic of that team, maybe the fact that he went on to play in arguably the most successful club team of all time, the successive winners of the European Cup, Real Madrid. The scoreline of the match flattered to deceive, the 7-1 victory to Hungary in the next game contested between the teams better displayed the gulf in quality. The team were undoubtedly the best of their era, though, like many great teams, failed to crown their undoubted greatness with a world cup trophy, being beaten in the final by West Germany.

From this zenith, the game declined into something of a nadir. Even England won the World Cup in this period! Great individuals emerged, whose quality surpassed even the likes of Puskas, Di Stefano and Gento. Didi, Garrinchina, Mazzola, Charlton, Best, Beckenbauer, Eusebio, and Pele, the greatest of them all, emerged. Brazil asserted themselves as the best team in the world, winning two successive world cups, inspired by this array on incredible players. Indeed, they hit the highest ever recorded Elo ranking ever recorded. Look underneath the surface however, and we find a decline in the role of systems. It was about individuals, and individuals making the system work. Indeed, the questions being asked were not revolutionary new ones, but often about how to stop a better team. Even when the systems were revolutionary, they were designed to facilitate a specific player who posed a threat, or asset, which was uncommon. For that Brazil team, Mario Zagallo, a very deep left winger, created the shuffling role (which utilized his high energy), shifting a 424 to a 433. Nobby Stiles’ very deep, aggressive holding role allowed England to become the ‘wingless wonders’, in what would nowadays be called a 4-1-3-2. At Internazionale, Fachetti and Jaire were the key to Catenaccio, the former in providing left sided width, the latter to defend the right flank from direct attack, a role known as the ‘tornante’. These players allowed the wonderful individual talent of Mazzola the possibility of a free role. There was a system, often a very rigid one. But, in the great teams of the era,   the system depended on one or two great players, supported by others whose role allowed them to be as free as possible. But, as with everything, this model died quickly.   It died in arguably the most successful display of individualistic football ever displayed. Brazil 1970 has developed into a legendary event for football fans, one difficult to put into words outside vague references that express nothing, ‘that goal’ by Carlos Alberto, in ‘that team’. It has become mythologized as a great team, which it clearly was. But it was fundamentally an amazing team consisting of incredible players. That teams success was down due to the almost perfectly complimentary roles that every player was assigned. Carlos Alberto overlapped as Jairinzho tucked in – continually driving into the space created by the positional interchange of Pele and Tostao – the mercurial talent that was Rivelino further allowing Everaldo forward. Gerson dictating with clever, angular passes, while possessing a fearsome strike when not closed down, something showcased no better than in the 70 final.   What is important though, is that it was the incredible organization of the team that made it great. Great players being given a role that suits their abilities, a very fluid role, but one they stuck to.  Yet it was sub-conscious organization. The selection process was based around putting the best players into your team. The only collectivist feature of this team was collective individualism. Everyone played as an individual. Astonishingly, because of the talent they possessed, it worked.  Brazil were fortunate to possess such an array of talent that they could form such a cohesive and complementary unit.

4 years later, and the world of football had been shaken up more radically than it had for quite some time. It was to be Dutch domination.   The signs had been coming, Ajax lost the 1969 European Cup final to Milan, one of the final bastions of individualism in the modern game, destroyed by the ‘perfect ten’, Gianna Rivera, and the more modest in skill, but decidedly more deadly Riva. 1970 Brazil in itself showed signs of precipitating what was to come, it was characterized by total tactical anarchy, with quality players self organizing outside of any real system.   This same self-organization, but within a highly structured belief system was to characterize Ajax. The teams success was unarguable. Three successive European Cups. But this is not their main accomplishment. This was to be the revolution they initiated, though astoundingly for a revolution, one of remarkably limited impact for quite some time, and one limited to very few places. This revolution is best opined in two words, ‘total voetbal’. Fluid positional interchange, usually along vertical lines, intense pressing, use of the offside trap, short passing followed by intense bursts of pace and verticality, wide play, stepping out from the back, often as far as the opponents penalty area, all hallmarks of the dutch ideology. Ajax dominated world football, led by Cruijff, Neeskens, Haan and Keizer, all wonderful players but also great football thinkers, for the next 4 years, after the defection of their truly great coach Rinus Michels, to Barcelona, where Cruijff, the true inspiration of the team, followed. Yet, like the great Hungary side who also dominated international and club football, they failed to leave their imprint on the world cup trophy, beaten in the final by West Germany at their peak,  also failing to defeat Menotti’s Argentina in 1978.

If we were to trace the influence of total voetbal we would be left in two places. One would be Ajax, where much of the style has remained, though it has evolved drastically. The other would be Barcelona, probably 35 years on, its’ influence symbolized by the almost godly figure of Cruijff, silent, yet a silence that sets the tone. The team of Pep Guardiola – himself managed by Cruijff at Barcelona as part of the ‘dream team’ – understood his influence more than anyone. Indeed, for Guardiola ’Cruyff painted the chapel and Barcelona´s subsequent coaches must restore it and improve it’. Total Voetbal was the inspiration, though clearly his aim was not to merely imitate it. And remarkably, he accomplished both of his aims. In the four seasons that Guardiola managed Barcelona, he (re?)revolutionized football. Back came positional interchange, continual ball circulation, a high defensive line; in came an obscene focus on possession, even more intense pressing, high wing backs, only this time in a back 4. Again, the team was mightily successful.   More than this, it got taken up (in a rather different way) by the Spanish national team, whose core was Blaugranes.   Spain were radically successful with a more passive brand of tiki-taka, controlling, dictating games, forcing their opponents to run themselves into submission, before winning late on. This recipe won them a World Cup, and two European Championships, making them the most decorated international team of all time. Like the other great teams, their style, not merely their players became immortalized. In a two word phrase. ‘Tiki Taka’.

In this brief and highly selective history lesson, what we have seen is a continual line of three ideas at the top level of the game, strands of thought. One is the idea of possession, pressing and positional interchange. These teams are usually the iconic ones, idolised for their ideas rather than their mere success. People remember Ajax, but not the equally successful Bayern team of 3 years after. These teams tend to be based around a system which focuses on the collective, they give the individuals great freedom, but within a very strict collective framework of movement. Ibrahimovic was sold on the basis that he could not adapt to this, Pedro retained because he suits it so well. What the individuals do does not matter so much as if some of the players are fulfilling the requirement of the system. Ajax was similar to this, if a CB moved forward, a CM would drop in, and vice versa. But what not be allowed would be uncompensated movement. There are two categories that seem distinct from this. There are those such as Brazil 1970 or 82, whose individuals worked so well as a unit that they had an organic freedom, their was no structure imposed on them, except in the way the team was initially build to complement each-other. Ancelotti is a manger who excels in this respect. The Galactico project tried, but failed to implement this rather anarchic vision. And the third form of team, are those who have deep structural rigidity, but rely on the extraordinary abilities of a small number of players to make the system work. Herrera’s Inter, Mourinho’s Madrid or Inter. Both were about the rigid control of players to allow one or two players-usually idiosyncratic either in style (Fachetti) or sheer ability -(for that season, Sneijder)- to be decisive. It is about the management of the collective to maximize the play of one of two individuals. Each of these styles overlap, but each also have periods of dominance. Undoubtedly, we have been through an near unprecedented dominance of the former idea. But as always, ideas fall down, strategies fail, the great players on whom the strategy depends decline.

If tiki taka – the dominant instantiation of the collective ideology – is dead, what will replace it? Perhaps we should look back in history? The last team who dominated to the same extent, with a similar style, was Ajax. Their legendary coach defected to Barcelona, with his most important player in Cruyff. This has parallels with today, Guardiola going to Bayern, with Xavi’s heir apparent, Thiago Alcantara. Then, this model did not have radical success when exported from its’ original surroundings, Barcelona failed to overhaul Real Madrid under Michels. Guardiola failed in his quest to dominate Europe again. In 1974, it was Bayern Munich who took up Ajax’s hegemony. But it was a very different kind of hegemony, it was based upon great specialists, Beckenbauer, Gerd Müller, Schwarzenbeck.   Then as now, this appears to be occurring. Examine Real Madrid’s Champions League winning team. Nearly every position has a specialist, of great individual quality, who compensates for a deficiency elsewhere. Ronaldo doesn’t track back, and thrives with an aggressively positional full-back outside him, to create overlaps, and Di Maria in a box to box role to energetically cover the space Ronaldo fails to, as well as protect Xabi Alonso, whose capacity to cover ground will never be listen among his strengths. At Chelsea, Ancelotti did much the same thing, players were effectively managed to great success, but the team never convinced. Indeed, as Michael Cox astutely noted at the time, the players who made the most starts in each position only ever started the same game once. The game of football was turned into a game of asset management, rather than a game of creating of cohesive vision that everyone subscribes to.

Is this the way football is going? I, as the postmodernists would do, deny the inevitability of this change, and could indeed suggest that an entirely different change is coming. If we were to look at teams such as Chile, Biesla’s Bilbao, even Atletico Madrid, what we see is an identity. We see the players adopting a set of values. The system then becomes the most important thing, rather than the quality of individual players. The focus becomes the roles the system demands, and their fluidity.  Atletico Madrid are antithetical to Barcelona. They admire tackles and clearances,   Barcelona despise them. Chile and Barcelona are far closer, in that they play relentless football based upon pressing and passing (though the nature of this passing differs greatly). But what all three of these examples share is an identity of the group, the creation of activities that all players must perform. At Barcelona, this is total fluidity, technical football, possession as an end in itself, controlling the centre, driving the opponents to the flanks. At Chile, it is pressing and vertical passing. At Atletico it is intensity, both in pressing and defensive concentration, positioning and tackling. But there is no room for passengers, even of supreme quality in any of these teams. The great, idiosyncratic individual is dead, unless he is accommodated into the structure in these systems. Even the Bayern team who were said to have killed off tiki-taka, then become its’ most recent exponents, did not stand for great individuals. It, no doubt, possessed them, but arguably the greatest feature of the team was to get such individualists as Robben and Ribery to perform so coherently in a shape, to become subservient to the system. Their opponents in the final were Borussia Dortmund, a team wholly based on collective pressing. Pochettino’s Southampton did the same, at a lower level. Mourinho’s Chelsea, though limited by some extenuating circumstances (Eden Hazard, John Terry) have the aim of doing the same thing.

Indeed, even as tiki-taka is rumoured to have said its’ last word at international football, its’ legacy perhaps survives. Firstly, in the sense that it brought back the collective vision of football, a movement away from positional specialism and unadulterated individualism of the Galactico’s, the era of Cragnotti and Moratti, of Ancelotti’s wonderful Milan team.  More importantly, it has influenced and defined how these collectives play football. Much has been said about the death of short passing, the rebirth of physicality in football. This may be true, it was always going to be the case that the Barcelona and Spain teams were an exception, based on incredible players who needed no physicality, a group who we may see no equal to for generations. In this sense, tiki-taka did not die, but the players who facilitated it did. But if we look at the defining features of the emergent teams of the future, we see echoes of tiki-taka everywhere. Pressing, an emphasis on keeping the ball on the ground, wide-play from wing backs, strikers who drop deep and link up play, more authoritative passers from deep, wide forwards, ball playing defenders. All were anticipated or put into practice by Spain or Barcelona. Indeed, tiki-taka died when Spain could no longer do these things, press, harry, run, maintain a goalscoring threat from out wide, all precipitated Spain and Barcelona’s (relative) decline. Indeed, Barcelona lost their collectivist ideals. The transfer of Neymar was the anti-Barcelona transfer, the importing of individual brilliance which compromises the team structure. The recent Suarez transfer indicates the same thing. If football goes in the direction of collectivism, tiki-taka is not dead, but lives on through the pervasive influence on nearly every strategic and tactical outlook. It has bypassed nothing, even its’ antithesis has been profoundly affected (few teams before tiki-taka deliberately gave away the ball as a defensive (and offensive) strategy, for example (though in the 1920s, Herbert Chapman’s Arsenal team did). If however, football is moving back towards an individualist game of managing individuals, maximizing their strengths and compensating their weaknesses, then tiki-taka is truly dead. I offer one further point. If we are to view football as a cyclical game, then this offers us two possible positions in history with which it is comparable. If it is the former, then we may be living in 1978. A World Cup winner who emphasized individual freedom within a collective framework. In the years ahead, European Cup winners who were undoubtedly more defensive, counter-attacking teams than what had become accustomed to, but remained based upon a clear collectivist mentality. Brian Clough’s Nottingham Forest summed this up. If it is not, then we may be living in a world resembling 1984, perhaps even 1986. A period of wonderful individuals, with the team being designed around them, to maximise their strengths, and offset their weaknesses. In 86, Diego Maradona inspired Argentina to the World Cup based on moments of individual brilliance, with a team consciously set up to liberate him. Unlike in 1986, Messi failed to do this in 2014, and Argentina lost in the final to Germany, the epitome of a collectivist team. Perhaps this signifies the way football will move, away from the creation of a structure designed to liberate your best player by using the other players as sacrificial lambs, and instead (as tiki-taka did) attempt to enhance the capabilities of the whole collective.  History never goes in circles,  neither does the history of football.  But if it did,  we would perhaps be reaching 1978.

OW 8/9/14