by Ruud Gullit
My professional career began at Haarlem, an average side that sometimes looked up from below and occasionally down from above in the Dutch first division. When we played Ajax, with Johan Cruijff, you could do what you liked but in the end you didn’t stand a chance against the amazing class of a player like that. In those games Cruijff was always the decisive factor.
After a brief intermission following his adventure in America, Cruijff returned to Ajax, his first love. He was thirty by then and many speculated that he would find it hard to play in the Eredivisie, the top level in Dutch soccer, the second tier in Europe. A taunted, vengeful Cruijff turned out to be the best in the world.
On December 6, 1981, when I was nineteen, we were holding our own at Ajax’s old stadium at De Meer. Haarlem were playing well in fact. But not well enough. In the twenty-second minute, Cruijff began to dribble on the left, far outside the penalty box, moving toward the right. Not forward or back but across the width of the pitch, around twenty-five meters from our goal.
After a quick combination he eluded a couple of Haarlem players, avoided another tackle and ended up on the far right of the pitch. Then as if out of nothing—no one had seen a chance or an opening for a goal—he produced a truly incredible lob from around twenty-five or thirty meters that flew over the fingertips of our keeper, Edward Metgod. Bang in the net.
And there you are. An extraordinary goal and there’s only one thing left to do: applaud. There are no tactics to deal with the individual class of a player of that caliber.
Balance in a team
Guus Hiddink came to Chelsea in the middle of the 2015/16 season to replace José Mourinho as interim coach. He began by establishing stability in defense. Building up logically, based on experienced players such as John Terry, Gary Cahill, Branislav Ivanović and Thibaut Courtois. To give a drifting team structure, start with the foundation, the defense. Hiddink began with an amazing record-breaking series of unbeaten games, although he drew too often for Chelsea to be able to have a big impact on the Premier League.
By contrast, Louis van Gaal started from the top when he took up his post at Manchester United, whereas his defense was too vulnerable to maintain the club’s place among the Premier League leaders. Van Gaal brought in the strikers Radamel Falcao and Ángel Di María, only to let them go again a year later. They didn’t fit in. Yet at Paris Saint-Germain, Di María was free once more to bring down the roof.
At United, the new strikers didn’t get a chance to show what they could do, because behind them the team was in disarray. The whole edifice caved in at Old Trafford. Van Gaal made the same mistake by bringing in the forwards Anthony Martial and Memphis Depay, rather than the kind of defenders you need in the Premier League.
To construct a team based around forwards is to commit hara-kiri, especially in the Premier League. There you need a stable base.
As Sir Alex Ferguson’s Manchester United did. His teams always had a strong back line as well as a phenomenal axis: in 2008, Edwin van der Sar, Rio Ferdinand, Nemanja Vidić, Paul Scholes and Wayne Rooney. Accompanying these he had players of the highest caliber, such as Cristiano Ronaldo, Ryan Giggs, Teddy Sheringham, Carlos Tévez, David Beckham and a host of top players.
These weren’t sides that humiliated their opponents. In fact Manchester United often left it to the final quarter of an hour to strike: Ferguson’s famous last fifteen minutes. They almost always scored just before the game was about to end, often in injury time. Many put it down to luck, but it was hardly a matter of chance, it was quality. They could accelerate the pace when they needed to and were almost always able to score since their opponents had no energy left and were unable to keep up. Up front, United would have a couple of real goal-getters, each one a killer who only needed the one chance, like Yorke, Cole, Solskjaer, Sheringham, Rooney, Ronaldo and Tévez—almost all of them capable of creating chances by themselves and making the most of them.
A contact sport
When I first started playing professionally I never wore shin pads. They became compulsory in August 1990 and I really disliked that. They didn’t feel comfortable, even though it was a time when players kicked a lot more readily than they do today. The television cameras picked up far less detail than they do now and players got away with much more in their eagerness to neutralize a particular opponent.
These days referees stop play for the slightest infringement. Less so in the Premier League perhaps, but certainly in Dutch competition. The ideal is a kind of glorified indoor soccer. That’s due in no small part to the prevalence of artificial grass at almost half the eighteen top clubs. It’s as though contact is prohibited, even though soccer is a contact sport.
In my day, soccer was a lot less gentle: an elbow in the face, boots with massive aluminium studs to stomp on your foot, shirt tugging, groin grabbing, hair pulling . . . you could expect anything and everything on the pitch. It wasn’t acceptable, it was against the rules, but it happened. You had to protect yourself and you had to watch out.
Today it’s all a lot less physical, despite the mano-a-mano duels and the frequent clashes in the Premier League. English referees are much more tolerant. Yet that often puts English clubs at a disadvantage when they play on the Continent. They are continually being penalized. In fact teams that compete internationally need two styles of play: one for the English league and one for European competition.
Great expectations
No club in the world has higher expectations than Real Madrid. This is the result of its amazingly successful history and its philosophy. Madrilenians want a combination of superb, attractive, attacking, winning soccer with lots of goals by absolute top players who are among the best in the world and can supply them with plenty of oohs and aahs. Madrilenians want entertainment. It’s fine if the other side scores a couple of goals, as long as Real score six.
Since the situation in Spain and abroad dictates that this only ever happens occasionally—Real’s arch rivals in both arenas being FC Barcelona—these expectations have an adverse effect. Time and again the club’s ambitions are frustrated and one manager after another gets the boot. Even Carlo Ancelotti, who gave Real La Décima, their tenth European Cup, was sent packing because he could not lift the club above Barcelona in the Primera División.
At Barcelona the fans have also become accustomed to success. A mediocre result is immediate cause for alarm. The fans demand victory, every time, with spectacular skills and mouth-watering combinations, although the Catalan supporters are less prone to turn against their club, especially since Barcelona are Catalonia’s flagship, the pride and joy of the northeastern autonomous region where the desire for independence from Spain is huge.
Fans of AC Milan were also spoiled by success and trophies for many years. For supporters it is difficult to admit that yesterday’s superpower is now no longer. When you have been at the top for so long, the new situation can be difficult to swallow. Take a look at AC Milan–Cesena, and all you see is empty stands. Around 20,000 spectators turn up for a match like that. In my day the San Siro was always full. I see the pain of the fans in the grandstand when I visit. It grabs you. But the story is simple: the club doesn’t have the financial muscle to attract top players. The budget determines the result and AC Milan have been eclipsed: internationally by many and in Italy by their rivals Juventus.
The same goes for Manchester United: always on top under Ferguson and public enemy number one for the fans of every other Premier League club. First, as the performances decline you get derision, later sympathy, eventually pity. What could be worse for a top club? Well, having a neighbor that’s even wealthier and manages to snatch the crown away, like Manchester City. In fact Liverpool are in the same boat as Man United.
Arsenal sail their own independent course. Financial security is the bottom line, so the club doesn’t spend extreme sums on great players to buy its way to the top. Which means in the end that it occasionally wins a trophy or two, but that it n
ever gets to dominate the Premier League or Champions League and falls short of the main prize. Arsenal supporters have loyally backed that strategy for years, but a vocal and growing minority are trying to force change.
The European elite
If you want to compete with FC Barcelona, Real Madrid and Bayern Munich then you must have absolutely top players. Real Madrid have the resources to buy players of that level, so have Barcelona. Spain rules because Spain has the best players.
Manchester City, Manchester United and Chelsea can also afford whoever they want to buy. The more interesting question is: do the best players want to play at City? Is a Lionel Messi or a Ronaldo prepared to say goodbye to Spain and settle in England? Manchester City hope to change things by appointing Pep Guardiola as manager. Maybe he has prepared the way for Messi or Ronaldo to make that move.
I don’t know if it will happen, but I’m curious to see how Guardiola gets on and who he signs. I believe he can win the Premier League, but the more important goal for City is to win the Champions League and secure his status. In fact I suspect that Guardiola was brought in by City precisely for that purpose. They have already been Premier League champions twice.
Bayern Munich brought him in to win the European Cup, but with his trademark tiki-taka soccer. It was a style of play that influential people like Karl-Heinz Rummenigge and Uli Hoeness considered sacrosanct. They wanted Bayern’s version of that style to be the new world standard, in the same way Guardiola developed it at Barça.
He made a promising start at Bayern, capped by a sublime Champions League game in Manchester in the autumn of 2013 against City. Unfortunately Guardiola had to deal with long-term injuries to Arjen Robben and Franck Ribéry, players who possess the individual class to be able to make the difference in a game along the flanks. The team’s level was high—Robert Lewandowski is an exceptional finisher—but in the end a manager depends on the individual qualities and class of players to make the decisive difference when the prizes are being divvied up.
At Manchester City, Sergio Agüero is the closest the club has to a Messi or a Ronaldo. But whereas Messi and Ronaldo can do it alone, Agüero needs support and assistance. The Spaniard David Silva approaches the top level, but is prone to injury. Given the intensity of the English game and the number of matches, Silva often suffers from his apparent fragility. In England, the physical demands on a player’s body are almost impossible to hold up against for an entire season. Guardiola will have to take account of that.
In Germany and Spain they play fewer games and the physical contact is less intense. It will be fascinating to see whether Guardiola is able to introduce tiki-taka at Manchester City, or if he maintains the English soccer culture. In my view the latter is a precondition for winning the Premier League.
The dead ball
Corners and free kicks remain strangely underappreciated. In fact there are a lot of advantages to be gained from dead balls. The English cult club Wimbledon really knew how to exploit this aspect of the game to the fullest. Many teams fail to use dead ball set pieces effectively, even though they can win a game. It all comes down to agreeing tactics and practice, practice, practice.
The wall
The wall is the keeper’s responsibility. It is up to the goalie to say where the wall should be placed and how many players should stand in the way of a free kick. Generally I think walls are a good thing and as a manager I always liked my keeper to use one. I once had a keeper who decided not to and the ball ended up in the back of the net from a good distance. My only concession to a keeper who doesn’t want a wall—in theory it blocks his view of the ball—is to take one or two players out of it to leave a gap.
Keepers who don’t place a wall for a free kick often find an opposition wall looming up in front of them instead. The player taking the free kick will send a couple of players to stand in a line, because a wall helps a free-kick specialist aim. The idea is to aim between the second and third player in the wall.
I prefer to have tall players in the center of the wall rather than at the ends, which used to be the fashion. Shorter players can stand on either side. Almost all balls over the wall pass between the first and second, or between the second and third, in the line.
Most walls comprise four players. At the end there’s usually a player who runs into position if the free kick is taken in two stages. Keepers may go for a five-player wall nearer the goal; for example, if the free kick is on the edge of the box. With five in the wall, you almost force the free-kick taker to direct the ball at the corner where the keeper is standing. If the free kick is on the edge of the penalty area then the distance between the wall and goal is usually too short for the ball to be chipped over the wall. Messi, Maradona and maybe Michel Platini could do it; there’s probably no one else capable of arcing the ball sufficiently.
Free-kick specialists
Smart players fire the ball under the wall if they see the keeper telling the players in the wall to jump. A well-prepared free-kick specialist knows what a keeper wants from the defenders in a wall. By the same token, a keeper should know the free-kick specialist’s preferences.
If the player is on target despite all the countermeasures then the only possible response is applause; well done to the specialist. Clearly he is exceptionally good, assuming the keeper stayed in place. Keepers often make the mistake of moving left or right before the strike, or even of diving—often out of uncertainty. It is an appalling error because keepers can generally count on the ball coming directly at them. Sometimes they don’t even follow their own instructions.
Most free-kick takers prefer the ball to be placed a little back from the penalty area. Twenty meters is ideal. Pierre van Hooijdonk, a former Dutch international who played for Nottingham Forest, Celtic, Fenerbahçe, Benfica and Feyenoord, was the uncrowned king of free kicks at that distance: making himself the best in the world by practicing over and over again until he developed a perfect strike.
Pierre was quite happy to place the ball a few meters farther back from the goal, while other players often secretly try to place it slightly farther forward. They are only making it harder for themselves. With one or two extra meters, Van Hooijdonk was able to give the ball even more power and the added distance also gave the ball a chance to drop sufficiently to go in just below the bar.
The corner
Why do some players prefer to take short corners? Mainly to disorient the defense and draw defenders away from the goalmouth. The results of a short corner may differ, but the intention is to force two defenders to come out of the otherwise crowded penalty area. If only one defender comes out to deal with a short corner, the two corner-takers will have few problems getting past. Two defenders have to come out to a short corner.
Short corners draw defenders away from the goal area.
route of player
route of the ball
If you also position a player on the edge of the penalty area, to receive a direct pass from the corner, then that will draw yet another defender out of the penalty area. The fewer defenders in the box, the easier it is for the attacking team to head the ball in.
Funnily enough, defenders often take the contrary viewpoint: the fewer the number of forwards in the box, the easier it is for the keeper to get the ball. And if the defending team places two strikers on the halfway line the attacking side has to withdraw yet more players from the area to cover the possibility of a quick counter should the keeper grab the ball and loft it upfield. FC Barcelona would post three strikers up front. It was the keeper’s job to find one of the strikers for a quick counterattack. An added complication was that Barcelona’s players tended to be rather less than tall, so they were especially vulnerable in the air. In fact Barcelona often went for the short option when taking corners themselves, since their forwards are at a distinct disadvantage when it comes to heading.
With three Catalans up front, the other side would have
to keep four defenders at the back, one on the edge of the penalty area and one or two in midfield. That would leave just three or four players to head in the corner or take a shot at goal.
When defending against a corner, teams may choose between zonal or man-marking or a combination. Man-marking results in players dispersed in pairs; zonal marking means that each player is responsible for a particular area.
For the attacking side, the objective is to time the corner correctly to get the ball in front of goal, directly or curving, but out of reach of the keeper. Either way, the defenders need to be kept in place. If the ball swerves out and they get a chance to run, they can get the purchase they need to jump higher. If they have to stay in their zone, it’s far harder to jump high. That leaves the attacking side with the advantage, because then players can run in and jump higher.
When defending against a corner, Barcelona keep three forwards around the halfway line, forcing the other side to leave at least four players at the back.
When defending against a corner with zonal marking, each player defends a specific area or zone.
When defending against a corner with man-marking, each player marks a specific opponent.
The ball is chipped to the near post and headed on to the approaching players.
An alternative way to deliver a corner is to chip the ball in an arc to the near post for it to be headed on to a couple of forwards running in blind. To touch the ball is to score, at least in most cases. You need a tall, strong player to head on, otherwise a defender or the keeper can easily get rid of the ball to the touchline and the whole question of heading on becomes academic. At AC Milan, this was our most productive variation.