By Paul Gardner
For a long time now I have been intrigued by the connection between how we talk about the game of soccer, and how we play it. It seems to me that the
vocabulary always lags way behind on-the-field developments.
I read reports -- they come pretty regularly in the English media -- about how a forward had a good game because “he led
his line well,” a phrase that always leaves me wondering whether the writer of it stopped watching games in the 1950s.
Maybe then, 60 years ago, you could still make out, on the
field, the surviving remnants of a forward line ... a center forward and two wingers. But today, with so many teams choosing to play with a single striker, there is not even the pretense of a line.
Yet the ancient terminology persists.
The change in player functions and its divorce from vocabulary was beautifully caught in 1997 by Brazil’s Elber. He had just moved to Bayern
Munich, there to encounter the defensive-minded Italian coach Giovanni Trapattoni. He was not happy. When asked to define his position, he replied, sardonically, “defensive striker.”
The confusion over player positions is, I suppose, perfectly logical. Until the 1950s soccer was almost as rigid in its player roles as baseball. If you looked at a team in action, you would
have known where to find the right winger, where to look for the center forward, and where the two full backs would have been playing.
The game started to become a lot more fluid during
the 1950s and you can then rely on the English to get everything wrong. That classic “defensive striker” remark of Elber’s can be seen to have its origins in the bewilderment that
the famous Hungarian team caused in 1953 to the English -- coaches, players, journalists, everyone. They looked for the Hungarian center forward and assumed that Nandor Hidegkuti -- because he was
wearing the No. 9 -- must be the man. But he didn’t play up front -- so the contradictory “withdrawn center forward” was born, the obvious antecedent to Elber’s classic and
oxymoronic defensive striker.
Modern coaches continue to talk of forwards and strikers, as though there are still players whose duty, preferably their only duty, is to attack.
But this flies in the face of modern tactics that demands that the attackers must also play a defensive role, often quite an important one. Well, it is made out to be an important
role in the sense that if the attacker neglects to “track back” he is likely to be heavily criticized.
So the confusion persists. It was there, plain for all to see, in the
remarks that San Jose Earthquakes coach Frank Yallop made recently to Soccer America’s Ridge Mahoney. Yallop was attempting to define the playing roles of his two Brazilians, Geovanni
and Eduardo. “Geovanni’s not really and out-and-out forward ... Geovanni is more of a midfielder converted into a forward,” explained Yallop, adding for further clarity that
“Eduardo is more of a forward who likes to come back a little bit.”
Yallop’s grasp of how his players function is no doubt correct, it is the lack of suitable terms to
describe those functions that gives Yallop trouble.
It could very well be that we have arrived at a stage in the development -- some might wish to call it the deterioration -- of soccer
where it no longer makes any sense to talk of attackers or forwards or strikers. These are now part-time roles, they are bound to be that in a sport where defensive play dominates.
Clearly, an attacking player can no longer be defined either by the position he takes up on the field, or by the name that position is given.
These days the vital aspect in defining an
attacking player seems to be his mentality -- and that is something that, it is safe to assume, is heavily influenced by instructions from the coach.
Germany’s Lukas Podolski has
some aggrieved words to say about that. Podolski is about as close as we come these days to a full-blown attacker, and is finding life frustrating at his club FC Cologne -- exactly as Elber did at
Bayern 13 years ago. He finds Coach Zvonimir Soldo’s tactics too negative. After a 2-0 loss to Mainz, Podolski insisted that “We have to play far more offensively if we want to get good
results. We should take a few more risks and play more aggressively.”
Of course Soldo disagreed, and he had his refutation at the ready: "I would have understood his criticism if I
fielded six stoppers. However, we played with six attack-minded players.”
An interesting comment. Not “six forwards” or “six attackers” -- heavens no! -- but
six “attack-minded” players. That “attack-minded” label again suggests a compromise, that these guys are not totally committed to the idea. Anyway, we surely know by now that
attack-minded players are a different breed from out-and-out attackers. For a start, they don’t attack as often, or as intelligently, or as skillfully. And in Cologne’s loss, they failed
to produce a single goal.
Soldo seems unconcerned -- “You simply can't expect us to create a lot of chances in every single game,” he says, making it sound as though
it’s not even worth trying.
Elber’s quip about being a defensive striker now looks like one of the rare instances where soccer terminology got ahead of the game. It surely
doesn’t look quite so funny any more.
Good point. I'll try to take a survey of the kids at the nearby park one of these days.
My "favorite" misnomer is "Byline", which is nowhere to be found in the "Laws..."
One interesting development is that players' shirt numbers have evolved to "meaninglessnes" to a large extent. And why not? Except -- in the German media I hear the term (he played in) "the 10 position". And some players insist in certain numbers, such as Raul with the 7, and "CR7" as he's called in the Spanish media, Ronaldo of Real.
Soccer vocabulary is more banal than Bob Bradley describing an opposing team.
I’ve been an American soccer fan for a long-time, and I can’t even stand hearing “pace” when describing a fast player. For the record, my grandma “has pace.” It’s not a rapid pace, but she is able to move. And pace is defined as “any rate of movement.” When describing a fast player next time, just says he’s “fast.” Or “quick.” Either will suffice.
But that’s not the only dumb thing soccerphiles say. Often times you can hear coaches, players, and commentators spewing nonsensical rubbish like, “We need to get a result,” or “We got the result.” Like the errant use of pace to describe quickness, what these nimrods really mean is “let’s not lose.” Or better, “Let’s freakin’ win.”
To be clear, a “result” is “something that happens as a consequence.” An outcome. Simply electing to play will get you some kind of result. A loss is a result. A tie is a result. Even a canceled game could be the “result” of bad weather.
In an effort to sound intelligent, or presumably to distinguish themselves from other sports, soccer fans actually end up sounding ignorant at best, elitist at worst. Any commentator or fan caught perpetuating this nonsense should be kicked in the shins.
If Americans (and international fans by extension) want the game to grow in America, try speaking in terms the majority of people can understand.
—usasoccerstud.com
So, Paul, would you rather go back to the 50s, when you had 3 lines, and everybody in their position marching up and down the field like robots? Thanks, but I'll decline. That's as boring as pointy football.
On the teams I have coached, when the opposing team has the ball, my team has 11 defending players. The front players should immediately pressure the ball, playing strong defense. After all, they just spent the energy advancing the ball, why give up the position and waste all that work?
When my team has the ball, there are 11 attacking players. If one of the players on the back line (notice I avoided the term "defender") sees an opportunity to make a 60 yard run forward to an open spot on the field, they darn well better make that run and be looking for the pass or the cross. If they can get a shot or a head on the ball, or even play it in to another player, they have my blessing.
Of course, all my players got their jersey numbers based mostly on size, with a little horse-trading thrown in, so what do I know?
In the interests of full disclosure, I completely agree with you, Stud. Sometimes I just want to reach into the TV and slap the poser announcing the game...