“The formation is the only thing that’s important” she said. “It’s not worth writing about anything else”
When September comes and the autumn approaches it is usual for any Scottish football fan to be navel gazing and pondering the serious weaknesses in our national game. By then most of our clubs will be out of Europe - sometimes all of them - and every two years we have the added joy of asking ourselves why the national side has failed or is on the verge of failing to qualify for the forthcoming summer extravaganza. The range of reasons is so well-worn by now that we must know them off by heart. ‘Not enough fight and spirit’ is a favourite. ‘Technique is the problem’ another. ‘A serious lack of tactical and football intelligence’ is sometimes heard. ‘Sack the manager’ is usually the final word on the matter.
It is depressing in its reality as well as its monotonous regularity. However this September my mood was lifted by the arrival in my inbox of the second issue of publication that I will never apologise for falling instantly in love with. The Blizzard is a new quarterly football journal that was launched earlier this year by Jonathan Wilson, author of the seminal work on football tactics Inverting The Pyramid and features a wide range of authors and subjects. It looks and feels like those journals you had to scour through at University in the vain hope of finding something relevant to fill that missing 400 words in an essay. However I don’t ever recall the British Journal of Political Science ever holding me as spellbound as this. Basically, this is football writing for grownups and it is a revelation.
What makes it such a stand out success (it is pay what you like and the early interest and sales have been remarkable) is that exists in a backdrop of journalistic paucity and squalor. For many years now the mainstream football media in Britain has appealed to the lowest common denominator and in doing so it cannot be absolved from blame when analysing our game’s failings. There is a strong sense of anti-intellectualism within those that write and speak about it; a desire to paint the game as romantically simple as possible. Essentially most sports are simple in their purest form but this is to miss subtlety and science, technique and tactics. By exerting their significant influence in shaping the narrative of football in Britain it is no surprise that the average supporter has such a narrow view of the game. It is no surprise that the annual failure (or biannual in the case of the national teams) against Johnny Foreigner sees us re-tread the same old ground without learning any of the lessons. Wilson quotes Virgil at the top of his book; ‘Fortunate is he who understands the causes of things’: If only that were the case within the main discourse of our beloved sport.
Take BBC Scotland’s analysis of Scotland’s vital qualifier against the Czechs on Saturday. Pat Nevin has a reputation as a ‘thinking man’s pundit’. This presumably is because he wears glasses and once took a business course at Caley. The ten minutes of discussion with Rob McLean and Craig Gordon was dominated by stating the obvious when describing the action which we had already seen (“they were ball watching”, “you’ve got to get it on target”, “he’s clearly dived”) and focusing on one issue, the late penalty. They love this, making a narrative of a controversial event and talking it to death. It turns football into soap opera by giving it a moment of drama and a villain (‘ooh the ref was well snooty towards Fletcher there’). All of this meant there was little time for our panel of ‘experts’ to explain to us how Scotland managed to allow their opponents to get into a position where the ref could make a mistake. Perhaps a minute was given to describe the 8 minutes of panic when Scotland held their one-goal lead but again it was description and not analysis. The viewer was not told how this happened, what happened to the space on the pitch and most importantly what Levein could have done differently to prevent it.
In their valiant attempts to simplify the game to remedial levels, our media are fond of rolling out clichés such as ‘goals win games’. Wilson turns this on its head by arguing that in fact ‘winning games gets you goals’. Using systems and space to your advantage will put pressure on your opponents thus allowing more chance to capitalise. Our obsession with the final move in a huge chain of interconnecting decisions does our whole community no favours.
Hi-tech gizmos do not necessarily mean better analysis either. Match of the Day and Sky have them in abundance but still more often than not, use them to describe exactly what we have seen with our own eyes. Even that gallant pioneer Andy Gray let himself down often enough. That comment about Messi, Stoke and a wet Tuesday night and deliberately misunderstanding zonal marking (“I’ve never seen space score a goal Richard”) were far more offensive than any off the cuff remark about a female official.
It’s not to say that there aren’t intelligent voices around but they are nowhere near the mainstream. They can be found in journals or in books. They can be found in brilliant websites like zonalmarking.net. However these voices don’t penetrate the general football culture and therefore the language of football in the UK is still blunt and limited. One problem we have is that we are obsessed with pundits being ex-pros. The theory is valid but in football’s case, the practice is horrifying. That Nevin is considered a football intellectual in Scotland and that Robbie Savage can win awards for sports broadcasting says it all. They do not add anything, merely state the obvious and stoke up controversy for brainless phone-ins.
It isn’t a British problem, it’s a football one. My other love is cricket. Test cricket mind, not the novelty act pyjama party. I love the ebb and flow, the short moments of drama within the larger scheme of the match. The coverage of cricket on the TV and radio contrasts starkly with football and on the whole it is dominated by ex-pros. Unlike their colleagues in the national game, the cricket pundits nearly always add something to the coverage. They will analyse everything about the game, they will bring relevant experience to fore, and they are articulate and knowledgeable about the world game. In short, they are a different class. Literally in some cases and without question education has a lot to do with that but loveable larrikins such as Warne and Tufnell still add just as much, whilst throwing in a bit of humour. It helps also that the game of cricket does not hold any antipathy towards science and analysis; in fact it is based on it. A myriad of bowling and fielding plans are planned out to precision. A degree in statistics is almost a necessity to keep track on the developing match. There is no debate about passion v technique, the technical side is paramount. And perhaps most importantly, the captain actually makes a difference, having to keep on top of a whole host of tactical plans and possibilities. Unlike football there is no pretence that the game is so simple that a 5-year old could understand it to its full.
In Scotland there is little wonder that our sports media wish to bang the drum of sectarian sensation. Heaven forbid they would have to analyse important matches in its absence. Instead our football voices are part-time sociologists and focus wildly on the off-field narratives, collisions and controversial decisions. Again, all this does is feed our football culture a weak diet of frothy pap. This is the story fed to the punters and it is no surprise that as a support we bay for kick and rush, passionate performances and lack the patience and understanding of the continental game.
In a season long campaign Scottish clubs lack the funds to buy the technical talent required to compete at a regular pace. Even when we did, we were still too easily out-thought by our European counterparts. When faced with giants, both Rangers and Celtic, as well as Scotland, have sometimes managed to play the underdog role to perfection and used all physical and mental resources to stifle their superiors. At the onset of this season however with the exception of Hearts, I would suggest that all Scottish clubs faced sides in their qualifiers that had inferior squads. All ties should have been won. The fact that they weren’t was not down to lack of investment, it was down to tactical failure, poor conditioning and a basic lack of intelligence. Like the home nations who manage famous wins over strong sides but consistently go to central and Eastern Europe and fail against weaker teams with less success and experience, we faltered in Malmo and Maribor largely because of a lack of tactical and mental discipline. We simply weren’t smart enough.
It is easy, however correct, to blame McCoist but he is a product of his environment. He is Smith’s heir, a true blue, but without question the author of much European humiliation himself. They are all a part of the Scottish and British football culture: A culture that distrusts theory and romanticises spirit. Heart ruling head, no matter how many painful lessons we have to endure.
The quote at the top is from an anecdote by Wilson in the preface to his book. A group of multi-national journalists were at dinner during Euro 2004 discussing England’s win over Switzerland and what changes to shape had occurred since the opening defeat. One English journalist surmised that it was a pointless discussion. “Oh what’s the difference? They’re the same players. The formation isn’t important. It’s not worth writing about.” An Argentinean journalist responded as above. Our mainstream media do much of the wailing and gnashing of teeth about the state of our game. It is worth remembering the next time they are sat around their faux breakfast table that their inability to grapple with the abstract, that oh so important use of space on a football pitch, is a major part of the problem.