“He is considered a retard, but we are the retarded ones – because we think, we rationalise. Next to him, next to the prodigious instantaneity of his reflexes, we are luggards, bovines, hippopotamuses”, Nelson Rodrigues, playwright.

When Manuel Francisco dos Santos was born on the 28^th of October 1933, the midwife noticed that his left leg was curved outward (it was six centimetres shorter than the right leg during his career) and his right leg curved inward. In the modern game, this Brazilian genius would have been shunned for lacking the physique of an athlete. Not that he thought football should be taken seriously.

He was born in the idyllic town of Pau Grande, 40km from Rio. Nicknamed Garrincha or little wren by his elder sister Rosa, his carefree attitude made sure the name stuck. He had a natural talent for football but little else. He could accelerate brilliantly his ability to change direction whilst dribbling was unrivalled in the town. He was kept on at the local textile factory where he started work aged fourteen just so he could play for the company’s football team. He was an awful employee, lazy and unambitious.

But when he took to the pitch, no-one cared. His ability to constantly humiliate his marker totally compensated for the lack of a work ethic. He would have remained an amateur, had he not been taken reluctantly to trials at the big sides. He was turned away by Vasco Da Gama and Fluminense, because he hadn’t brought any boots, while he left his trial at the latter earlier to catch the last train home.

It changed in a trial for Botafogo, he was placed on the wing against Nilton Santos, a member of the Brazil squad. He dribbled past the international defender as if it was a kickabout back in Pau Grande, nutmegging him in one dribble. He won a contract and promptly scored a hat-trick on his full debut for Botafogo.

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Fixtures that were once seemed eternal at the Santiago Bernabeu are now changing. One such is the absence of any silverware when under the presidency of Florentino Perez, but that could change now with the arrival of Jose Mourinho. Similarly, the arrival of the Portuguese tactician has seen the departure of Madrid legends Raul Gonzalez and Guti, something one could not have envisaged any time soon.

Raul has signed for perennial German underachievers Schalke 04, while Guti has signed a deal at Turkish side Besiktas. The Madrid Sports Daily Marca naturally claimed this transfer of Madrid’s record goalscorer as a victory for Cristiano Ronaldo, who could now change from CR9 to his original CR7 at Manchester United. Naturally, the one million CR9 shirts sold since the arrival of the perma-tanned superstar in Madrid will not be an obstacle to this.

Guti’s departure, on the other hand, will not be met with as much sadness, but instead fans will feel regret for what might have been. The Spanish playmaker may have won as much silverware as his captain Raul, but with the outrageous technique he was blessed with, there lacked a work-rate. In fact, in his final seasons, a number of goals conceded by Real could be traced back to a sloppy pass or a lack of tracking back by the Spanish midfielder. Despite this, there were flashes of genius, such as the back-heeled assist for Karim Benzema to tap the ball into an empty net, which broke a 20-year winless streak at Deportivo’s La Riazor stadium.

The sacking of Coach Manuel Pellegrini was entirely expected, given the hounding his every move was met with by Marca, practically the propaganda arm of Florentino Perez. Mourinho has been declared as some sort of deity by the same paper for instilling rules that are seen as the norm at most professional sports teams. Mourinho is now charge of the most successful club in European football, facing a formidable Barcelona side in his bid for glory.

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As Cesc Fabregas crafted a pass into Andres Iniesta, who took one touch before firing past Maarten Stekelenburg to win the World Cup in Soccer City, one couldn’t help but think it was a move crafted in La Masia, the Barcelona academy. Seven Barcelona players started the game, with Cesc Fabregas, a former academy player, coming on as a substitute near the end of normal time.

It is rare when one club dominates a national team so much, and the seven Barcelona representatives in the final beat the six Bayern Munich put forward in 1974 for West Germany. The tiki-taka philosophy has taken a pragmatic form during this tournament with the use of a second defensive midfielder.  Coupled with the defensive mentality of the opposition, they have accumulated the lowest tally for goals scored by a winner in history, with a measly eight.

Iniesta finally decided to shoot with no option to pass available, having refused to put his foot through the ball when clean through on two other occasions. The result this time brought Spain the World Cup trophy. The mercurial midfielder was also involved in the sending off of Johnny Heitinga, exaggerating contact by plunging to the ground to confirm the dismissal of the Everton man, who was the last defender.

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The victorious Euro 2008 tournament saw Spain classed as the most glamorous of football nations. The qualifying campaign of the European champions was flawless, but the start of the World Cup saw the implementation of a second defensive midfielder in a departure from the successful 4-4-2 that Luis Aragones implemented as Del Bosque has followed the increasingly defensive trend in football.

The decision to further protect the defence and hold onto possession seemed like a mistake in the shock 0-1 defeat to Switzerland in their opening Group H game, given that it caused a loss of presence in the final third. The side produced fewer of the incisive passing moves fans have become accustomed to, with Liverpool striker Fernando Torres struggling for form and new Barcelona signing David Villa shunted out to the left flank.

The introduction of the annoying Barcelona youngster Sergio Busquets alongside Xabi Alonso formed a decent shield which could be seen as an unnecessary precaution given how the Spanish side dominates possession and its expertise in manipulation of the ball. There now was a lack of speed and urgency in the Spanish play, with too many passers and not enough (or effective runners).

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After a fantastically attacking Euro 2008, football fans everywhere could have been forgiven for thinking that attacking football was back in business. After all, Spain’s win at the UEFA tournament was followed by an imperious Barcelona side (in 2008-09) that won the treble scoring well over a 100 goals in all competitions.

Then we saw an English Premier League season which was the highest-scoring in years, with an exciting three-team title race. But it appears the biggest indicator of the latest tactical trend was Jose Mourinho’s Inter Milan, who won the treble in 09/10, with a re-working of the catenaccio style of Helenio Herrara’s Grande Inter.

The Portuguese tactician has perhaps brought back defence into fashion but we cannot really blame the self-styled ‘Special One’ for the lack of attacking intent in this tournament. The opening round of fixtures have seen only Argentina, South Korea, Germany, Chile show some form of style and pace. The pressure of not losing the opening game was huge and seems to have caused a dearth of goals.

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In 2006, France were galvanised by the return of legends Zinedine Zidane and Claude Makelele to force a run to the final. At Euro 2008, there was no leader to run the team, only the tactically strange decisions of astrology-loving coach Raymond Domenech to cause a group-stage exit. Now, there are accusations of a rift in the side, players not passing to each other in addition to the predictably awful team selections.

The uninspiring draw with Uruguay showed a France side bereft of any incisive passing patterns as Arsenal’s Abou Diaby was the only player who provided direction in the attack. Anelka was an isolated figure, with his clever runs in behind the defence ignored in a pedestrian performance. Govou was a strange selection and did not spring any surprises on the right flank. Spectators wondered why Malouda did not start in his place (rumours suggest a bust-up with Domenech saw him benched).

The introduction of Gignac, Henry and Malouda saw a little more threat though Domenech insisted bizarrely that Toulouse striker Gignac play wide while winger Malouda played through the middle. Despite having many talented individuals, France aren’t a team and it seems difficult to see Les Bleus progress towards the latter stages.

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“Life is rhythm, football is rhythm and I feel the rhythm when I am in South Africa.” This was the rhetoric promoted by Sepp Blatter, the 74 year-old Swiss president of FIFA, on the awarding of the 2010 World Cup to South Africa. Such soundbites reflect on the idea that South Africa will benefit enormously in economic and social terms from the four week tournament between June and July.

Such a ‘love story’ (another Blatterism) is no doubt confirmed by the record £2.2bn FIFA have banked in media and marketing revenues. The financial aspects of this World Cup have come under much scrutiny as the positive impacts on the country appear small in relation to the profits of FIFA. Read the rest of this entry »

LiberoFootball has a new signing. Greg Cross is a wonderful writer with an acerbic wit and has a fantastic take on the ‘British’ way of football management. Here is his take on Big Sam Allardyce’s diary (with a doffed cap to David Peace). (As imagined - so no need for legal action!):

(18/04/09) Training. Training my Blackburn squad. We’re pushing, pushing hard for 13th place. Big Sam. Our Phil from Hull. Phil. Wonderful Phil. And the new lad at Pompey. Us, three Musketeers. No. Too French. Three Amigos. No. Too Italian. Three crusaders. Better. Pushing for 13th. Tight. Too tight. I need signings. Signings like only Big Sam can make. British steel. British talent. Jay-Jay. Jussi. Ivan. Bernard. Stars. Stars, the lot of ‘em.

But Big Sam is angry. Big Sam is upset. Eight months. Eight months I’ve been looking. Looking for him. Looking for the one. The one who I signed on the dotted line for. The dotted line of Big Sam’s latest contract. The Blonde. The player that sums up Big Sam. Robbie. Robbie Savage. The player’s player. Eight months. Eight long, drawn out months. Searching, searching high and low. Calling. Coaxing. Is he in the showers? ‘No’ says El Hadji. Is he in the physio room? ‘No’ says Ryan. Is he out on t’pitches? Practising? Practising his free kicks. Practising his penalties. ‘No’ says Brett. Then, after eight months. Eight long, precious, Robbie-less months. Big Sam hears. ‘Brighton Gaffer!’ Brighton?! What’s Brighton? Who is Brighton? Where does he play? Sounds English. Our Craig is ready. Pen in hand. Calculator out. ‘No’ says Stephen. ‘Robbie’s at Brighton. It’s down south.’ Down south?! I’m sick. Physically sick. Our Craig – good lad my Craig – fetches my brown paper bag. I’m sick. I’m sick to my stomach. Robbie. My Robbie. My hope. My playmaker. Down south. There’s no hope. ‘Gays’ says our Craig. ‘Lots of gays down there in that there Brighton.’

Craig wakes me. Says I fainted.

The training goes well. Paul. England’s number one ‘keeper. Paul is a marvel. The lads. My lads. Big Sam’s lads. They’ve swapped the balls with Easter eggs. Easter eggs on sale at Asda. Paul is catching every one. England beckons. Blackburn’s Paul. Big Sam’s Paul. England’s number one again. Put on me Blue Tooth. Nike on Speed-Dial. Will they change the Premiership ball? Hook up with Cadbury? ‘No’. No says Nike. I spit. I spit out my gum. Foreigners. Scuppering England. My England. Fabio. At my desk. Should have been my desk. My gum. My last gum. Stuck on the floor. Stuck on the floor of a Portakabin in Blackburn. Irony. Irony they call it. Read the rest of this entry »

Every opposing coach has the same dilemma when facing Barcelona. How do you stop a player who has 72 goals in 89 games under Pep Guardiola along with a massive array of assists? Can you find a tactically disciplined player to man-mark him, or is it a joint effort? Here are some suggestions on how to stop the best player in the world.

Stop him from cutting inside

18 of Lionel Messi’s astonishing tally of 25 league goals have come from the Argentine’s left foot as he frequently turns his full-back inside out before shifting inside to slot home. If teams can force him down the line, the chances of him having an influence on the game diminish (although a very good full-back is required to stop Messi from dribbling around the outside of his marker into the box).

Deny him space

Barcelona’s biggest test last season came against Chelsea in the Champion’s League semi-final, who played an extremely conservative game in both legs, relying on counter-attacks and the physical prowess of Didier Drogba and Michael Essien. Messi’s influence was limited as Chelsea denied him space in behind by packing the defence. Even so, he assisted Iniesta’s dramatic winner in the 93^rd minute by playing the ball back across the 18 yard line instead attempting a probing pass. It was an unlucky night for Hiddink’s men, having been denied clear-cut penalty decisions by the hapless Tom Henning Ovrebo.

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Mario Balotelli would, in any other country, be seen as an exceptionally talented young footballer looking to break into the national side. In Italy, he has become the symbol of a nation that apparently refuses to accept a multi-ethnic society. The situation has been compounded as two of the most successful coaches in the footballing world, currently working in Italy, has dismissed the abuse directed at Balotelli.

Champions League-winning coach Jose Mourinho, who currently coaches Balotelli at Inter Milan along with World Cup-winning coach Marcello Lippi are the two esteemed men in question. Given their achievements and massive influence in the footballing world, one would assume the two would use their standing in the game to condemn this abuse and support a player who has the talent to lead Italian football for years to come. Instead, they have protected the racists and morons in the crowds by denying the abuse is racist. One explain why they have come to such conclusions through their respective characters.

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