In the last chapter of Jonathan Wilson's book about the history of football tactics, Inverting the Pyramid, he writes about the upturn in attacking football that occurred during and around the time of Euro 2000. The author then goes on to discuss, with regard to the role of players in present-day football, what the former AC Milan and Italy coach Arrigo Saachi called ‘universality.’ As Wilson explains at the end of the book, “system has replaced individuality,” but this does not mean that universality implies that today’s footballers are expected to adhere to a set way of playing, at least in a pejorative sense. Instead, modern players are expected, as a matter of course, to operate differently at different stages in a match. Saachi, whose Milan side swaggered to European Cup glory in 1989, said he looked for “players who are not tied by their limitations to certain roles, but who can roam, taking as a reference for their positioning their team-mates, their opponents and the available space as much as the pitch.”
Ironically, the theory of universality, and all its positive connotations, has come to prominence at a time when the established roles of three types of attacking player – winger, playmaker, and centre forward – have either changed or, at least in the case of the Argentinean notion of the enganche (playmaker) in the mould of Juan Román Riquelme, been driven almost to extinction. However, the reason why these positions have come under threat is because the spaces on the pitch that wingers, playmakers, and centre forwards traditionally operated in have been condensed or even divided by the formations in which present-day teams set themselves up. System has triumphed over the individual because it is no longer possible to think of defence, midfield, and attack as the only three distinct areas of the pitch.
The changing role of the centre forward, instigated at Euro 2000, has been behind much of the tactical innovation that has occurred over the past decade. France played thrilling football at that tournament by playing Thierry Henry up front on his own and stringing three attack-minded players behind him – Yourri Djorkaeff, Zinedine Zidane, and Christophe Dugarry. Behind this front four sat two holding midfielders, Patrick Vieira and Didier Deschamps, with a four-man defence to their rear. Essentially, this 4-2-3-1 formation allowed six outfield players to worry about defensive duties while the other four attacked interchangeably, unsettling the opposing defence with their speed and movement.
Despite beginning his playing career at Monaco as a winger, then, Thierry Henry became a centre forward for France and, once he had settled in north London, this was the position he took up for Arsenal at club level too. Almost at the same time, the idea of the centre forward as an old-fashioned ‘number 9’ – a ‘fox in the box’ – became outmoded. Strikers whose job it was to hang on the shoulder of the last defender, waiting for a through ball, or lurk in the penalty area in the hope of capitalising on a mistake by a defender or the goalkeeper, fell out of favour. In short, a player such as Michael Owen was superseded by the likes of Didier Drogba, Fernando Torres, and (in his heyday) Henry himself. Wilson explains that, while scoring goals remains the centre forward’s main aim, one player now serves the purpose of two at the front of the attack. Strike partnerships, Wilson says, used to rely on one player being tall, the other quick, or one creating chances that the other would finish. But players such as Drogba, Torres, David Villa, and Wayne Rooney are capable of creating their own chances, as well as being fast and strong enough to lead the line on their own. Best of all, Lionel Messi has the slight physique of a playmaker, operates nominally as a winger, and yet is capable of scoring 47 goals in a season.
The refining of the role of the centre forward has been taken even further in recent times, according to Wilson, by outfits such as Roma and Manchester United. Under Luciano Spalletti, the Italian side used Francesco Totti as their most advanced player, but often as a decoy behind which lurked four midfielders all ready to overlap and overwhelm the opposition’s defence. The striker-less formation was best-labelled a 4-1-5-0. When United won the Premier League and Champions League double in 2008, their side commonly featured two fairly short central strikers (Rooney and Carlos Tévez) who worked alongside two advanced wingers, Cristiano Ronaldo and Ryan Giggs. The four players constantly swapped positions, operating more like four attacking midfielders than two strikers and two wingers.
If we’re lucky, we’ll see some of the principles of universality in operation at the World Cup. Most of the present-day players I’ve mentioned in this article will be there – although, significantly, Michael Owen won’t be, and wouldn’t have been anyway even if he hadn’t succumbed to injury. It is very difficult for an international side, though, to emulate the kind of football that, for example, Barcelona play. To be enacted effectively, the players require a level of understanding between themselves that tends to be hard to strike up during a brief four-week tournament, unless they are a settled group of internationals as France were at Euro 2000. But, of course, an equally well-organised defence can still find ways to counteract the most fluid of attacking set-ups. Inter’s rearguard action against Barcelona in the second leg of the clubs’ recent Champions League semi-final confirmed that. But didn’t watching José Mourinho’s ten men negate the Spanish champions serve as a beguiling spectacle anyway? The enduring battle between creation and destruction remains football’s essence, after all.
Written By William Abbs