Jonathan Wilson wrote a short but intriguing article just over a week ago for the New Statesman (of all publications). On initial reading, it appears to cover familiar ground for an unfamiliar audience. With the infamous 6-3 victory by Hungary over England in 1953 as its fulcrum, Wilson argues that international football was once a festival of contrasting styles, approaches and national visions of the “Beautiful Game.”
Normally at this point, conventional wisdom dicates that the pundit shall write that the proliferation of club football on television has led to a homogenization of style, so that a nation (like England) won’t ever be caught off guard by a hitherto unknown tactical innovation again. But Wilson goes on to make a more sophisticated argument for why the club version has superseded international football in aesthetic quality:
But it’s also because international football, since the early 1970s, has lagged behind the club game, both in terms of quality and tactical evolution, precisely because of the latter’s systematisation. Just how systematised is perhaps best explained by the Guardian’s “Secret Footballer”, an unnamed Premier League player, who, from behind his anonymity, speaks with unusual openness about the professional game. “We memorise every single set piece,” he wrote.
We even memorise this for the other players so we know where everyone else will be at any given time. You know that pass when you say to yourself: “How did he spot that?” Often he didn’t need to; he knew the player would be there because, the night before in the hotel, he read about the runs he would be making.
Wilson goes on to argue that players are so well-drilled at the club level, what seem like instinctual passes to team mates to the observer are in fact the result of intentional, drilled practice. Hence, the common viewer refrain of “Who was that pass for?” when a teammate is unexpectedly taken out of the play. The player is just following a routine.
In other words, what was once thought to be improvised artistry is now a complex form of rote memorization (if Wilson’s Secret Footballer is to be believed).
The problem is, when players convene for international football they don’t have the time to practice at the same level of complexity. So the next best thing for managers is to employ simple, reactive formations (England’s two banks of four for example, or the go-to 4-2-3-1 approach). At best, this leads to exciting if error-strewn hammer-and-tongs football. At worst, well, you get England v France.
This got me thinking of Bobby Fischer’s famous remarks about chess. The late American Grandmaster, who achieved international fame for his lifelong rivalry with Soviet prodigy Boris Spassky (and being an antisemetic prick), famously distanced himself from the “old chess” toward the end of his life, which he said was “dead” and “played out”. Why?
At the highest level it is all pre-arranged, move by move. You have very interesting, beautiful pre-arranged games being created by very intelligent players, working with computers, working in teams. I have no objections to people creating such games, but they must say these are pre-arranged games, but they must not claim that they are finding the moves over the board. I have learned so much from these pre-arranged matches and all these cooked-up notes, they’re wonderful. But they are fake, they are flawed.
Fischer used the phrase “old chess” because he’d come up with a new form of the game known as Chess960, also known as Fischer Random Chess, in which the major pieces (those behind the pawns) are arranged in random order. This forces the players to use their instincts rather than memorize a long set of conventional chess openings which yield statistically-measurable win probability percentages, as almost all the contemporary Grandmasters do today.
The variation hasn’t quite caught on yet in mainstream chess circles, although it’s growing in popularity among those convinced memorization has taken the joy and artistry out of the game.
Might we eventually reach the point where those fed-up with the bland, across-the-board mechanical sameness of modern football tactics will develop a groundbreaking innovation that maintains the spirit of football, while forcing players to rely on their instincts and creativity in addition to their physical training?
If so, what would that innovation look like? A small rule tweak? An added player on each side? Football is a notoriously conservative sport, so the likelihood that any changes—even minor ones—would be met with mainstream acceptance is impossibly small.
But there’s another way of looking at the problem. Perhaps international football itself could one day become the locus of football qua sport, in the old sense of the word: a pastime, something to be enjoyed.
Much in the same way cup competitions no one much cares about are often the source of the most entertaining football (see the Carling Cup), perhaps over the (very) long term, as international football loses its lustre in the public eye, teams may no longer resort to reactive, negative tactics but instead use the tournaments as a means to showboat their skill, to experiment, to take risks.
If this seems far-fetched, think of the damage a poor World Cup in Qatar could do to international football’s image—exhausted players, fan boycotts, empty stadia. Add to that yawning boredom that could greet the Euros with its expansion to 24 teams in 2016. Maybe the European Club Association follows through on its threat to split from UEFA, and refuses to allow its brightest stars to play in international tournaments.
Maybe, in the end, the best way toward FIFA reform would be for people to stop caring as much about international football. Perhaps through its own greed and political hubris, the organization loses piles of money and the corrupt profiteers move on to something else.
In this scenario, the World Cup has no choice to shrink. Fewer fans go because the best players no longer play. Instead, young prospects might choose to play for their country just to get the minutes. As the international trophies lose their lustre, perhaps coaches and players will be more willing to take risks, to improvise, to break away from the monotony of a rehearsed club formation.
Of course none of this might happen, but rather than suffering from the homogenization and memorization of club football, perhaps the international game might one day help revive it.
Joy. Artistry. I always think of those terms when someone mentions chess :)
But seriously, the introduction of a “clock” in chess has also lead to memorization and tried & true strategies/openings/etc. I have friends that are brilliant for the first 15 moves because they know the patterns, but then fall apart in mid-game. Would soccer be more artistic if no 90 minute clock forced players into mindless and risk-averse repetition?
I’m not sold on setpieces being memorized – I think some coaches rehearse them more than others, and some are control freaks about repetition & set plays.
I don’t think the analogy of football to chess holds, primarily because football introduces additional variables – the rapid pace of action and the differences in physical ability. Any player who can memorize the decision tree within a particular opening or gambit in chess can execute those moves as well as any other player. In football, however, a player may be unable to stop his opponent, even if he knows the plays his opponent is likely to run, because either (i) he cannot determine which option the opponent chooses and react fast enough in response or (ii) he lacks the physical ability to stop his opponent (speed, height, etc).
I think the better comparison is to basketball. In the NBA, defenses usually know every play the other team runs and even the signals coaches use to call those plays. The game then becomes one based on quality of execution, the level of the players, and the ability to innovate immediately as the defense reacts. The result has not been to undermine the game at all.
I don’t think the fact that teams practice and memorize a certain number of set plays will have any far-reaching impact for another reason as well – set plays compromise only a limited facet of the sport. The openness of play makes it quite difficult for the entire game to go to some sort of script, and the interactions of 22 players, each of different skills and susceptible to error will prevent the scripting of the game as well.
As an American relatively new to following the sport consistently, I find it remarkable that every team hasn’t been memorizing its set pieces in the way described for decades. I naturally assumed that was the case because it seems like it would greatly increase a team’s efficiency in those situations.
I don’t think you can ever go back to the days where tactics were “new”, because of the preponderance of information and statistics available to even a partially-interested fan (let alone the players). It’s too easy to know another team’s tendencies before you step on the pitch; if anything, international soccer is a bit more random than league play because there’s less information out there on all the teams.
That said, even the most heavily-scouted league in the world, the NFL, can still produce some surprises; recall the Dolphins’ Wildcat-based destruction of the Pats a few years ago.
Very interesting article.
I agree that the tactical innovations may have to come from somewhere else as European professional club football is almost spent. Although I suspect it will be from youth level football or perhaps a rich benefactor towards Africa or Asia is more likely than the international game.
Somewhere that the skill level is high enough but is far from the jaded, consumer world that has brought us ‘More than a club (TM in association with the Qatar tourist board)’, an almost unhostable 24 team Euros and Nicklas Bendtner’s pants.
“Consumer world that has brought us ‘More than a club (TM in association with Qatar tourist board)”
What does this mean? Is this a veiled criticism at Futbol Club Barcelona? If so, I think you’ve gone a little bit too far considering that the motto has existed long before the commercial explosion on all things FCB. And to the majority of local socis, that motto is part of the club’s historical identity. To somehow diminish its significance in this way is a bit unnecessary.
And if it’s a criticism of FCB tactical innovations, I think Barcelona has contributed quite a bit to the way football is now viewed. The re-emergence of false-9s, the deployment 11 men in their own penalty area, the use of tika-taka for defensive purposes, etc., all of these are current tactical trends, no?
And then you have Elliot’s article about Ozïl which exposes the err in this ‘fear’. Its always been about how you ‘tell the story’ than ‘what actually is happening’ as if you could separate ‘actual’ reality from the description of that reality. You express a work of art – you have a work of art; you express a ‘science’ you have a science. We as audiences interpret through our languages formed to describe the sport.
From the very beginning players have been ‘memorizing’ how to play – practice whether ‘drills’ or free flowing is doing the same thing to the body, performing activity over and over again so that it can react in particular situations.
I personally don’t think that set piece practicing makes a rote memory, certainly there is an advantage to skilled set pieces. But we could also throw another analogy: the difference between a ‘line-worker’ and an artist – one is more ‘efficient’ at a particular action but does not have the time or space to ‘create’ anything beyond the limited action. How do you respond to what you don’t know/understand? The possibilities of football I think remain too complex in all but set pieces to be constrained to repetitive actions.
And to say that tactics cannot change is just arrogant. I’ve yet to see the full chaos of 10 outfield players capable of moving without marked positions – it may not ‘make sense’ to an organized world, but that type of chaos might be the very ‘science’ of football. It may not ‘make sense’ to play no positions at a high level, but that does not mean its impossible, nor that we would never actually see a team play chaos and dominate.
“if Wilson’s Secret Footballer is to be believed.”
I share the implied scepticism here.
I get that set-pieces and certain basic moves can be memorized but the idea that the majority of the action is the product of rote memory seems highly improbable (every game would look identical if that were the case).
And as Chris comments the sheer number and randomness of interaction breaks down the possibility of pre-ordained moves working effectively.
Interesting article.
Regarding corruption, FIFA is made up of 209 member states – more than the United Nations.
Each gets one vote. On the whole – http://www.foreignpolicy.com/failed_states_index_2012_interactive most of the world are corrupt, unstable states, that may fail in the near future.
It is a miracle that FIFA is not more corrupt considering the potential money involved.
How could an entity composed of such corrupt nations not be?