by Ruud Gullit
When I was appointed player-manager at Chelsea, I introduced that same tolerance test, because it had helped me so much. You should have heard the players, especially the beer drinkers: “F*** hell, f*** intolerance for yeast, no f*** beer. Are you f*** crazy? I am not gonna f*** do this shit.” I said: “You don’t need to do it. It’s just so you know. You can do what you like with the result, I’m just giving you the information. If you try and avoid those products you’ll feel better and sharper.”
At Chelsea I decided to switch to nutritionally balanced meals. Again, the same chorus of complaints. “No f*** gravy. Where’s the gravy and where are the potatoes?” I said: “If you want to eat something else go out tonight with your wife to a restaurant and order whatever you like. Have a tandoori and a piri-piri. Here in the club you’ll eat what you need to be able to perform.”
Technical aids
As long as technical aids don’t affect the pace of the game I’m happy to see them used, only not without limits. Goal-line technology is a logical development, but technical aids to help determine if a player is offside are more questionable. It’s a gray area and even with such help the same discussions will still arise. So what’s the point?
Whether or not to appoint a second referee, a so-called video referee, parked in the television editing van to help decide about issues such as fouls and yellow cards? I doubt that’s a good idea. It would still be a subjective decision, because one referee may say a foul is worth a yellow card while the other may say red. It’s hardly an improvement.
That subjective element is best illustrated by the various television programs in which games are analyzed. Whether it’s in England with Gary Lineker, Peter Schmeichel and Robbie Savage or in the Netherlands with Jan Joost van Gangelen, Ronald de Boer and Pierre van Hooijdonk, we always end up talking about penalty decisions. If we as soccer experts can’t agree and each have a different opinion, what do you expect from a video referee?
Many referees thought that Jamie Vardy of Leicester City deserved a penalty against Arsenal last season. I and other former players saw that Vardy deliberately looked for the Arsenal defender Nacho Monreal’s leg and was going for a penalty. Should Monreal have been penalized by the referee, Martin Atkinson, simply because he couldn’t pull his leg away in time? No, of course not. To be able to make an informed decision, you need to have played at that level. The referee would argue: “But he touched his leg.” Sure, but Monreal could hardly have sawn it off.
A video referee would also have doubts—decisions would be the opinion of an individual, just like Atkinson’s decision. You can agree or disagree. The debate continues. No problem, because discussion is one of soccer’s charms. Just that you don’t need a video referee to have a discussion.
My experiment would be to introduce an additional referee. Not in the middle of the pitch, but on the touchline or behind the goal, like in handball and field hockey. It works fine in those sports. The same authority of course and with respect for each other’s decisions. It would be unworkable if the two refs disagreed about whether to give a penalty or not.
With two referees you could have one outside the penalty area when a corner is taken, and the second closer, without getting in the way of course. Refs could determine for themselves at what angle to watch what happens in the penalty area. As long as they don’t both watch the ball, because then there’s no point in having two officials.
Of course, having two referees makes the pitch smaller: it’s harder to make a decision after sprinting a hundred meters to see what’s happening than after sprinting fifty meters. I’d love to see an experiment along these lines at top level, although it’s obviously a difficult matter.
Media
Then, of course, there are the journalists. You can shout out the strangest things when the adrenaline is pumping through your veins. If you just had an enormous release of emotion or disappointment, then you should count to ten before telling the media what you think. I tend to remain relatively calm, and I try to keep a sense of control.
Those interviews after the game are usually the same in every country for players and managers alike. Why did you win, or lose? How does it feel to have scored? Why did you substitute so-and-so? Did you see the foul and what do you think? Did the referee influence the result? Did you notice how angry that player was to be substituted? Sometimes it’s fun to give an opinion, although often it’s routine and boring.
In the Netherlands, reporters like to sit in the manager’s chair and discuss tactics. Or they say you were wrong to do this or that, and tell you how to do better in future. Then you just sit there and listen, and wonder: man, what are you talking about?
Epilogue
Soccer is a game in which people make mistakes: that makes analysis interesting and relevant.
Pundits who analyze games use statistics more and more. That will only increase, judging by the way they do things in America, although it’s hard to encapsulate a game in figures: except for the result, of course. I usually ignore statistics when I analyze a game, or I use them as an interesting detail. That Manchester City never win a European game in which they have more than 50 percent of possession tells you nothing about what went wrong or right in a game, or where the mistakes were made and how to avoid them.
Insight into the game is essential for my kind of analysis. How do forwards, midfielders or defenders try to correct mistakes and how do they try to prevent mistakes? Soccer is more than action and reaction: good players anticipate situations.
That is one of the reasons why you can count the number of great World Cup finals on the fingers of one hand. Two sides aiming for perfection in a soccer game is by definition boring. Teams playing at the level of a World Cup final hardly make any mistakes. When no team makes mistakes, the game soon becomes dull and predictable. The perfect execution of a task, of their tactical assignments: this is what players at the highest level do, especially in a final. Those players are good at it, otherwise they would never be where they are after a six-week tournament. The length of such a major international tournament often takes its toll on technical players who make a difference at the top. Guys like Messi, Ronaldo and Robben have already had to give so much on the way to the finals of the tournament that they are exhausted in the knockout phase. Which is why Mario Götze—another crucial player—made all the difference in the 2014 World Cup final in Brazil between Germany and Argentina. Messi had already spent a huge amount of time on the pitch, while Götze had largely been used as a substitute. Whereas Messi was obviously weary in extra time, the substitute Götze had the strength to score the winning goal for Germany in the 113th minute. He had been on the pitch for twenty-five minutes.
In fact it was also a matter of anticipation, of adaptation to an impending situation: in this case by the manager, Joachim Löw, who used Götze for ninety minutes only in the opening game against Portugal, and then brought him off the pitch or used him as a substitute, or left him on the bench, as in the semifinal against Brazil, which Germany won 7–1.
Adapt and anticipate is a theme that runs through my whole career as a player, and something I have always tried to do. One of my teachers, Rinus Michels, said: “Never underestimate your opponent. Never base your strategy only on yourself, because your opponent is preparing for you. Your opponent will disrupt your game plan, so how are you going to adapt to counteract your opponent’s move?”
That tactical contest often remains invisible, especially for a neutral television watcher. During halftime, the television analyst does exactly the same as a manager. In the Netherlands and England they have their own soccer culture and identity and they sometimes hold on to their traditions for too long and against their better judgment. It’s something that I look out for when I watch a game. I don’t like it when teams head almost willingly to the slaughter simply because the other side appears better on paper. Try a trick or two. Have a go.
Never imagine that a
s a manager or a team you’re too big to change. I like to quote a story in this context about the late Muhammad Ali, one of my heroes. George Foreman was defending his world heavyweight title against Ali. The fight was between the greatest boxer of all time—Ali—and the world champion—Foreman—who was bigger and stronger. The fight, the “Rumble in the Jungle,” took place in 1974 in Kinshasa, capital of Zaire. Ali had already been written off by most pundits, but he figured out a way. Instead of dancing around the ring, he clung to the ropes and let Foreman hit him, one round after another. Gradually Foreman grew tired and then Ali started to box and knocked him to the floor. If the best boxer of all time wasn’t ashamed to adapt, which club, which team and which player can afford not to take account of and adapt to what their opponent is doing? No one, not even FC Barcelona with Messi, Suárez and Neymar, the so-called MSN attack.
We all know pride comes before a fall. Atlético Madrid eliminated Barcelona for the second time in three years in the Champions League, because Barça refused to change their tactics; they had no plan B. And everyone knows that at some point every team gets exposed. To prepare and to delay being exposed as long as possible, that’s what managers and coaches are for.
How Atlético Madrid managed to stop Barcelona doing all the things they had planned is something I particularly enjoyed. Not every purist or true aficionado of good soccer—which is what I am—may have appreciated it, but they had to do it to win. In top soccer it’s all about winning. If you don’t win the battle, you won’t win the war. Strategy is essential and you find it in tactics and the approach of individual players on a technical, a tactical and also a psychological level.
Soccer is also undeniably a mind game. If you can gain an advantage on that level then you shouldn’t neglect that either as a manager or as a player.
Managers and players of all kinds of teams are continually involved in developing soccer as a game. That evolution is the reason why teams never manage to win the Champions League twice in succession. Even a timely change to the selection still fails to break the pattern. That evolution may start with a detail of a particular tactic: for example, a striker moving five meters closer to the opponents’ goal or five meters farther away. As an analyst I keep looking for that sort of clue in every game I watch. Or I gauge whether players are able to read a game, or when they decide to accept that the game is a draw or when they sense it’s time to play winning soccer. A team with a wide winning margin can afford to offer spectators something to enjoy; if the advantage is small, then winning has to be the priority.
That’s how I watch soccer.
In Amsterdam’s DWS youth side. Private collection
Haarlem’s nineteen-year-old Gullit vying with Johan Cruijff on his return to De Meer stadium, Amsterdam, December 6, 1981. Copyright © Hans Heus/Hollandse Hoogte
Training with Cruijff at Feyenoord. “Johan Cruijff opened my eyes to my own personal role in football.” Copyright © Nationaal Archief
Playing for Feyenoord against PSV at De Kuip, Rotterdam, May 7, 1985. Copyright © VI Images
Playing for PSV against Ajax’s Frank Rijkaard. Eindhoven, March 29, 1987. Copyright © C. Barton van Flymen/Hollandse Hoogte
Playing for AC Milan against Ascoli. Milan, October 4, 1987. Copyright © VI Images
With coach Rinus Michels at the 1988 European Championships. Copyright © VI Images
Scoring to make it 1–0 in the European Championship final against Russia. Munich, June 25, 1988. Copyright © VI Images
With the Cup. Left to right: Ruud Gullit, Berry van Aerle, Ronald Koeman, Gerald Vanenburg, Arnold Mühren and Jan Wouters. Copyright © VI Images
Milanello training complex. Frank Rijkaard, Marco van Basten and Ruud Gullit. Milan, March 15, 1990. Copyright © Hans Heus/Hollandse Hoogte
With “the best player ever,” Diego Maradona, ahead of a game against Napoli. Milan, March 3, 1991.
Playing for Sampdoria against his old club AC Milan. Genoa, October 31, 1993. Copyright © VI Images
With the FA Cup, Chelsea’s first major trophy in twenty-six years, at Wembley, London, May 17, 1997. Copyright © Camera Press Ltd/Hollandse Hoogte
On the touchline as Feyenoord coach in the derby against Ajax. Rotterdam, April 17, 2005. Copyright © VI Images
With BBC Match of the Day’s presenter Gary Lineker and analysts Alan Shearer and Kevin Kilbane. Private collection
At SBS6 Champions League studio with Ronald de Boer. Copyright © Jan Bijl
Ruud Gullit profile
Player
Games (goals)
1979–82
FC Haarlem
91 (32)
1982–85
Feyenoord
85 (30)
1985–87
PSV
68 (46)
1987–93
AC Milan
117 (35)
1993–94
Sampdoria
31 (15)
1994
AC Milan
8 (3)
1994–95
Sampdoria
22 (9)
1995–98
Chelsea
49 (4)
471 (174)
Caps
1981–94
Netherlands
66 (17)
Manager
1996–98
Chelsea (as player-manager)
1998–99
Newcastle United
2003–04
Netherlands under-21s
2004–05
Feyenoord
2007–08
LA Galaxy
2011
Terek Grozny
Trophies as player
FC Haarlem
Erste Divisie Champions 1981
Feyenoord
Eredivisie Champions 1984
KNVB Cup 1984
PSV
Eredivisie Champions 1986, 1987
AC Milan
Intercontinental Cup 1989, 1990
European Cup 1989, 1990
UEFA Super Cup 1989, 1990
Serie A Champions 1988, 1992, 1993
Supercoppa 1988, 1992, 1994
Sampdoria
Coppa Italia 1994
Chelsea
FA Cup 1997
Netherlands
European Champions 1988
Individual
Erste Divisie Footballer of the Year 1981
Dutch Footballer of the Year 1984
Dutch Footballer of the Year 1986
Golden Boot 1986
European Footballer of the Year 1987
Knight in the Order of Orange Nassau
Trophi
es as manager
Chelsea
FA Cup 1997
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