Més Que... USA? | |
From such matches, the general viewing public and a long line of cereal box news corporations may serve you a score, regurgitated recap, and surface analysis, complete with a complimentary order of artificial player ratings. Out-of-the-box pundits may show their curveball, weaving empty intangibles on the apolitical and emotional fundamentals of Spain’s greatest matchup, the weaknesses of the kingdom that fell, and the strengths of the victors. But in his seven minutes and 27 seconds, Neville dissects the entire Barcelona approach, philosophy, and tactical composition in a completely digestible and eye-opening manner.
After a hostile yet cordial exchange of handshakes between managers Pep Guardiola and José Mourinho, the match gets underway with Los Blancos spearheading the Blaugrana defense before GolTV is even able to display time-keeping graphics at the top of the screen. By the tenth second, Barça’s goalkeeper Víctor Valdés is forced to make an uncomfortable half-clearance to his widest option, ironically his right centre back Carles Puyol, who has taken the initiative to offer his goalkeeper an exceptional angle just feet from the sideline. |
Barcelona goes on to overcome the slip-up and defeat their most hostile rivals with a tidy 3-1 result.
Neville goes on to compare that match to a similar Barcelona performance, this time, in their 2008-2009 Champions League final against Manchester United. Barcelona starts that match similarly to the late 2011 Clásico, with a versiatile Yaya Touré filling Puyol’s right centre back role, and Gerard Piqué nearly a field’s width away from him at left centre back. At eight seconds, the two are noticeably split. Sergio Busquets, as Abidal would do two and a half years later in his position, has dropped into the 18 to fill in the ominous gap created by the split centre backs, and Víctor Valdés, under the pressure of the Manchester United front line, is forced into a mistake, relinquishing possession in an attempt to clear the ball out wide. In one of the most crucial matches of their careers, the Barcelona players continue to execute one of the most intricate — and volatile — defensive passing sequences football has ever seen. Starting with this split centre back concept, it spirals into a conditioned method of playing the ball out from deep positions, beginning with the holding midfielder, and then evolves into a compact, possessive, and proactive game plan that sees the then-Spanish Champions winners of both matches in question by two goal margins. Ultimately, everything meaningful behind these brief game-clips and aged high-light reels evolves from a simple sequence, a near-flawless execution, and an apparent self-belief and collective confidence that is baffling as much as it is astounding.
“The confidence and the belief and the courage and guts… [When] you talk about courage and guts in football, usually it’s about blood and thunder: tackles, it’s about getting to the ball quickly… but this is a different type of guts in football. This is playing to an absolute belief.” -Gary Neville on FC Barcelona [vs. Manchester United, 2009] |
In their brief but beautiful time in Brazil, the U.S. Men’s National Team (USMNT) won one match, drew another, and ultimately lost two. After playing Belgium to a hard-fought stalemate into extra time, the fresh legs of Romelu Lukaku and the genius of Kevin De Bruyne orchestrated our downfall, even against the righteous tide of a stoic Tim Howard and a messiah-like comeback attempt from Julian Green. The realm of American soccer is one stifled to the point of suffocation by premonitions. From international critics to homegrown casuals, the USMNT is lauded more often than not for being athletes over footballers, for embodying grit over ability, and sheer will over technique. The boundaries of American soccer are misconceived, outdated, and so vaguely intangible that it’s a wonder that they are still thrown around by such authority and handled with such value. The “USA can't play like other teams” label can be a cheap one, and an empty excuse for the team’s apparent evolution.
By Neville’s acclaim, the most impressive and unique tactics that Barcelona displayed, in both the 2009 Champions League Final and 2011 Liga Clàsico matches, factored in their bravery under attack. The inverted defensive layout was one of the most unique facets of tactical genius integral to Guardiola’s Barcelona side, and acted as a basis for building up proactive midfield plays, despite risking their defense to ultimate vulnerability under direct attack. They gambled with a 3-2-4-1 during much of Guardiola’s tenure, relied on the solidity of two centre backs and a holding midfielder to secure their defensive fortress, and ultimately, it was a blueprint for nearly surefire success, so long as they were playing to their greatest strength, and the Eleventh Commandment in Barcelona: thou shall keep the ball – at all costs.
The complexity and the bravery of relying on a holding midfielder to fill the void of an undefined sweeper, in this case an impeccable display from Kyle Beckerman, anchored the center of the field and allowed DaMarcus Beasley and Fabian Johnson to move upward and outward, into midfield, dispersing defensive responsibilities further, to Graham Zusi and Alejandro Bedoya. This, of course, continued the ripple effect: when DaMarcus Beasley is able to move into higher areas, as has been proven over the years, he offers a certain degree of width to the midfield that alters our offensive shape – and overall formation – significantly. From starting in a 4-2-3-1, and even after melting into something that resembles more of a lopsided and unconventional 4-4-2 after time, Beasley, one of the shining outfield performers of our Round of 16 match against Belgium, molds us into a very solid and centrally-concentrated 3-2-4-1, or even a 3-6-1 of sorts. Ironically and coincidentally, this is exactly the type of formation that Guardiola conducted many a Barcelona concerto with years ago.
High risk with volatile rewards. One nil down [against Portugal] and still intent on executing a specific style. Deep central possession that builds up plays from the back, invites midfield players to hold the ball centrally and engage one another, and tires out opponents. The hope of translating that mantra into our tactical set-up was probably the most ingenious aspect of our Brazilian dream to begin with. These are young guys, executing complex and daring tactics to a relative tee. While some of the flashier tactical risks may have been avoided in terms of experimenting with poacher-type personnel between game to game, or even refining and utilizing the diamond tactic that made its appearance in the send-off series, Klinsmann was efficient and effective in recognizing the combinations in the deeper half of the field, that ultimately built our possession and major plays from central areas, rather than wings and set-pieces, and tested a daring style that we might associate with that international quality that American footballers are so often compared [and contrasted] to.
If soccer has taught anything 2000+ w/O'Higgins, Chile, Barca, Bayern, Costa Rica .. it's not best athletes, it's best dedication to system.
— Matthew Tomaszewicz (@shinguardian) February 3, 2015
Seven players of Jürgen Klinsmann’s USMNT World Cup squad learned their trade abroad, more specifically, in Europe. Five were born outside of the United States, and six have represented other countries at youth or noncompetitive senior levels. Five years ago, Fabian Johnson won the UEFA Under-21 Championship with Germany, renowned for its youth system, alongside players like Mesut Özil, Manuel Neuer, Mats Hummels, and Sami Khedira that today represent the German squad the United States faced in the group stages. Julian Green has one foot into Pep Guardiola’s Bayern Munich team, after scoring 15 goals last season with the club’s reserve contingent. Ironically, three of the United States' five goals in Brazil came from German-American players.
Against Portugal, the USMNT contained Cristiano Ronaldo to a tee: Geoff Cameron shed his scapegoat label quickly and, along with Graham Zusi, executed a one of the most flawless and productive restrictions of Cristiano Ronaldo in an international match. The Ballon D’Or winner was relatively quiet until his 90+4’ cross that ended up being the equalizing assist, creating only two chances on goal, and no prior crosses. His pass accuracy hovered at or below a bleak 73%, by his standards, lower than any individual outfielder’s pass conversion accuracy on the USMNT.
I am not here to convince you that we played sparkling, objective football throughout the tournament. I am not here to proclaim that we were 100% tactically sound, nor that when called to put out our best hand of cards on the table we pulled out anything close to resembling Barcelona’s notorious staple, tiki-taka. Because, well, we didn’t. Despite being so well-organized defensively on paper, and building up plays in central areas, we failed to involve our wingers productively. Though he deserves to have his praises sung from every corner of the world willing to extend them, we ultimately forced Tim Howard to have the game of his life by revealing the holes in our midfield system to Belgium’s own midfielders. We failed to weave a true replacement target striker into our attacking model in the absence of Jozy Altidore, and we forced Clint Dempsey into a pseudo lone striker position where he functioned in a makeshift role that neither suited him nor our goal tally.
The United States, so criticized for their lack of “worldly quality” laid out, and nearly executed, a plan of complex yet adaptable tactics that put them through the Group of Death with flying colors, and through full time of the Round of 16. They went into matches against the second, fourth, and eleventh best teams in the world with swords, not just shields, and maintained substantial possession.
They had a plan. It could have been better. Some personnel adaptations could have made a difference. But to say that the United States lacked quality, identity, or substance is hardly true.
Just how much better were the catalysts that we faced in this World Cup? Cristiano Ronaldo created just two chances against the United States. Clint Dempsey equaled the amount, as did the pairing of Michael Bradley and Fabian Johnson, while Graham Zusi surpassed it, creating three goal-scoring opportunities and firing off seven crosses against the Portuguese, versus the Ballon D’Or winner’s sole cross. DeAndre Yedlin created more opportunities than Eden Hazard against Belgium, and equaled the number of opportunities (3) created by Les Diables’ young threat, Divock Origi. The same players that pundits swear would struggle to make “other” national teams proved themselves against the so-called “highest echelons of football.” |
“I think there is a little bit too much respect when it comes to the big stage – why not play them eye-to-eye? I don’t know how many years that takes to change, but its something we have to go through.” –Jürgen Klinsmann
Some 3,500 miles or so away from Gary Neville's Sky Sports desk, another brand of football is brewing. Perhaps some of the bells and whistles are yet to be attached, but depth and quality are thriving and well. On the international stage, the USMNT was not the timid, uninventive, footballing machine that history and premonition would have liked it to be. We offered a pragmatism and finesse. We were a unit with technical and tactical complexity, and even our own philosophy of play. And we did "try hard" and "run fast" and hey, maybe we were driven by the cliche "American spirit," but we brought more to the table, and didn't expect our standard of athleticism and hard work to give way to the snatches of possession, skill, and rather attractive play we had. With the proper matrimony of on-field tactics and personnel, American soccer can even be frighteningly, unconventionally beautiful. We're more than "try hard, run fast." We're more than "just USA."