Stillness and Speed: My Story
Page 21
Can we take it back to penalties? It’s not fair to remember Villa Park when for years your penalties were rock solid. You hardly ever missed for Arsenal, Inter, Ajax or Holland. Your technique was no frills and no risk, wasn’t it? Hard and straight into a corner after a no-nonsense run-up which was neither too long nor too short.
‘I didn’t make a song and dance out of it. I always approached penalties seriously, even when we were four-nil up. I just wanted to score every time. It was another goal for my total. In particular I felt that at Ajax. Because I was top scorer and goals are your lifeblood.’
Did you ever consider a ‘Panenka’ or varying your run-up?
‘During training, just for the fun of it, but not too seriously. The Panenka was a stroke of genius, an amazing solution at that moment. Panenka knew his best chance was a lob down the middle because Sepp Maier always went to a corner. But from then on the Panenka became a risky proposition. What if the keeper stays put? It’s like the Cruyff-Olsen penalty. When Cruyff played the ball sideways [from the penalty spot] and [Jesper] Olsen ran into the box everyone stood and gaped. No one understood what was happening [Olsen drew the goalkeeper, then squared the ball back to Cruyff to put into the net]. But nowadays your opponent would respond immediately. For a while it was fashionable to saunter in to provoke some movement from the keeper. I did that a few times, but it didn’t feel comfortable. Because there’s hesitation in your run-up, you can start to doubt yourself. So I quickly went back to my tried and trusted method: a straight run-up and straight shot, actually one continuous, highly energised action.’
Why did the Dutch national team have such a terrible problem with shootouts?
‘I played in five tournaments, and four of them we went out on penalties. It was so frustrating . . . and even more frustrating when you score your own penalty. You do what is expected, but penalties are never in your hands.’
Watching from afar, something seemed very wrong. Was it that you were all so good technically that you didn’t see shootouts as a special discipline requiring a German-type approach? Was it a wrong attitude? Did the Dutch not take penalties seriously enough?
‘How can you not take a penalty seriously?’
I don’t know. Why did Seedorf keep taking penalties and missing?
‘You think it’s a matter of practising more?’
Did you practise enough?
‘Enough is never enough. What is enough? You can never simulate the same pressure. You can practise and practise but it’s still different when you get to a real shootout. So, first you have to be good enough to take penalties. Then you have to deal with the pressure. Of course it’s a mental thing. It’s not only Seedorf. Other players as well went up for the penalty thinking: “I’m going to take it, and I’m going to do it in a certain way.” Maybe it’s a Dutch thing. Maybe an arrogant thing.’
Do you mean making it too complicated like Ronald de Boer against Brazil? His dummy ended in disaster.
‘That’s what you say.’
You said yourself: ‘It’s not the way I would have taken it.’
‘Well, you can try something. But you’re playing with it. You’re underestimating the pressure. It’s not that you’re not taking it seriously. He [De Boer] is. He thinks: “This is the best way,” and maybe he’s done it in training. But when there’s pressure . . . I wouldn’t have done it that way because it’s not the best option. But I think it’s very difficult to say: “You should have done this” or “You should have done that.” Of course you should have done better. You missed the penalty. But I don’t see a difference in me aiming for the corner and it being saved or someone else kicking it over. You make a decision, and that decision is based on “This is my best play”, but a near-miss is still a miss.’
There’s been lots of work done by academics on penalties and shootouts. Game theorists have their theories. Number crunchers have data on the habits and patterns of goalkeepers and penalty-takers.
‘OK, but in the nineties we kept on getting knocked out of tournaments on penalties. And we’re now twenty, almost twenty-five years later . . . There must have been plenty of studies, but no one comes up with a result! I’ve still never heard: “This is why you didn’t win that penalty shootout.”’
Well, we know some things, like the coin toss is important because the team shooting first has a 60-40 advantage.
‘But can you influence a coin toss? I agree with the figure, but it’s still a gamble. Whatever you do, it’s still a gamble. You can practise enough, you can win the coin toss, you can hold each other’s hands, you know, and be confident and whatever, but still it’s down to taking that penalty. And that pressure is something you can’t simulate in training.’
But surely we know what a good penalty is? Some of Holland’s missed penalties were just awful. Jaap Stam against Italy: crazily high over the bar. Paul Bosvelt: weak and too near the goalie. Ronald de Boer against Brazil . . . Seedorf against France . . . These weren’t good penalties. So what happened technically or psychologically? Is it panic? Everybody says, ‘Be clear what you’re going to do’ and ‘Vary your patterns.’ All these kind of things . . .
‘Then you assume the Dutch never thought about that?’
Well, what was the thinking? Why did Van Basten miss in ’92?
‘You think Marco didn’t take Denmark seriously? Didn’t have enough holiday? Or that he’s arrogant because he’s Dutch?’
I don’t know. What do you think?
‘He missed the penalty.’
He leaned backwards.
‘Did he mean to do that, do you think? People most of the time, they want to have a reason why they missed. Oh, I leaned backwards, I must have taken about three million shots in my life, and this one I leaned backwards, but why? Because it’s a penalty? Because it’s Schmeichel? Because I’m nervous? That’s very difficult to say. There’s an element of chance as well. You don’t know. I think Marco took lots of penalties in Milan that season. He always had the same rhythm, he always took it the same way . . . it’s difficult. There are a lot of studies. A lot of people have opinions about it. But you don’t know unless you’ve been there. And I’ll tell you, Marco did practise. He did ten penalties before the game. What would you say? “Yeah, but ten is not enough, he should have taken fifty.” You know? What is enough? What’s good? What’s bad? I find it really difficult.’
But you can’t say, as the English have for years, that it’s ‘a lottery’.
‘And you can’t criticise people by saying: “You took a bad penalty, you should have done better.” Of course, I should have done better against Schmeichel as well. But are people going to criticise me that I didn’t take it seriously? That I didn’t take Schmeichel seriously? That I didn’t practise before? Come on!’
No, but when Frank de Boer winks at Toldo then takes a terrible penalty, what’s the psychology? It’s a textbook example of how not to do it.
‘Now you’re judging? With all due respect, you’ve never been in that situation. And still you’re judging someone who has been there?’
Yes.
‘You’re telling him he took the penalty wrong?’
He did take the penalty wrong. It was terrible.
‘No, it was a miss.’
It was a terrible penalty.
‘He missed the penalty, therefore it’s not good. You can’t have a good penalty that is saved. I’ve tried to explain that . . .’
But surely a penalty missed because of a great save isn’t the same as a penalty skied almost out of the stadium?
‘I don’t see that.’
But the Dutch had to find a way to do better at shootouts somehow?
‘Of course.’
The Dutch have tried a change of policy, but Dennis is not convinced by the approach. After the Italy fiasco, the KNVB instituted a new rule: to improve the nation’s penalty skills, all junior matches would henceforth end with a penalty shootout. Dennis: ‘But you can’t only train the lower youth teams to take
penalties! If the KNVB wants to make a change, that’s good, but implement it across the board, with all ages and persevere. Look at Germany. They panicked after Euro 2000, too, because they finished bottom of their group. The DFB (German Football Association) was already talking about reforming their academies after the 1998 World Cup. Then after Euro 2000 they made really radical changes. They switched the emphasis from training power and athletic ability to technique, more like the Dutch way. Now you see the results. Germany now has the kind of footballers you wouldn’t have seen fifteen years ago: Mario Götze, Marko Reus, Thomas Müller, Toni Kroos . . . wonderful players, and attractive football played by Dortmund, Bayern and the national team. They worked systematically to change things across the board, and it has produced incredible results. In Holland, the lowest youth team still practise taking penalties . . . but nothing else has changed! You know, we won on penalties once [against Sweden in the quarter-final of Euro 2004] so no one was really bothered any more. But that’s not how it works. Once you identify a problem you have to start working on solving it at the bottom of your organisation. But you mustn’t stop there. You have to work all the way through, right up to the top. If you’re convinced, as KNVB, that you have to teach Dutch footballers how to take penalties, then you have to really do it seriously. And that’s what we’re trying to do at Ajax now. I’m not just talking about penalties. I’m talking about everything. The Germans looked at the Dutch and learned. And now we’re looking at them, and trying to do exactly the same thing: working in a systematic and concentrated way to implement changes and train our talents differently. And we will succeed.’
18
THE MEANING OF MEANING
IAN WRIGHT: ‘THE touch! The turn! They should slow that goal down with some classical music and put it in a museum. Yeah! And make people see that it’s a real bit of poetry in motion.’
Thierry Henry: ‘You’re talking about a great goal, but talking won’t do it justice, so just watch it.’
The two most prolific strikers in Arsenal’s history are talking about the goal voted by fans as the club’s best-ever, the one scored in a league match at Newcastle in March 2002. To recall the essentials: receiving a low, driven pass with his back to goal, Dennis Bergkamp conjures a never-previously-imagined turn to beat defender Nikos Dabizas, flicking the ball right, spinning himself left and meeting the ball goal-side before calmly opening his body to side-foot past the advancing goalkeeper, Shay Given. Arsenal officials hoped to immortalise the moment in bronze when they commissioned a statue of Dennis for the Emirates Stadium. Sadly, this proved technically impossible. As film-maker Paul Tickell observes: ‘It would need Boccioni back from the dead to sculpt that goal.’
‘That goal at Newcastle is a genius moment, so people have to cast doubt on it,’ says Ian Wright. ‘But I’ve seen Dennis do stuff like that in training so when people ask: “Did he mean it?” I say: “Of course he fucking meant it!” He’s an architect of space, so I reckon he’s done the drawings, measured everything and built it all in a split-second. And if someone says: “But he couldn’t have done that flick on purpose,” I say it makes no difference ’cos the speed of thought was such that he was able to readjust and finish with aplomb.’
Thierry Henry rebukes doubters in a slightly different fashion. ‘When people ask me about that goal I just go: “Dennis Bergkamp.” And they say: ‘Yeah, but did he mean it . . .? Do you think . . .?” So I say it again: “Dennis Bergkamp.” That’s my answer. I didn’t play in that game. I was watching at home and my first thought was “What!?” But you have players like that in history. Like Cantona was Cantona and Zizou was Zizou and Maradona was Maradona. You don’t have to comment on everything. Sometimes you just have to witness. Only Dennis can tell you what happened and I will believe him. Most of his goals he thought about before he received the ball. That’s Dennis Bergkamp.’
* * *
BUT HOW DID Dennis do it? And why do people still wonder if he ‘meant’ his masterpiece?
Dennis: ‘The whole question is strange. What do they mean by what did I mean? Which part do they think I didn’t mean? Do I see it all in advance? Do I think: “I’ll put it there, turn this way, then push?” Of course not. The situation creates the move. A few years ago I asked myself: “How can you describe a good footballer?” and my answer was: “The best players are the players who adjust to the situation they’re given in the best way.” The question is always: “how do you adjust?” I want the pass from Pires to my feet, but it comes behind me. It’s not what I expect, so I think: “I need another idea here.” It’s like when Messi sets off on a run. The first defender moves that way, so he goes this way. Did he “mean” it before? Did he plan it? No, he’s responding, inventing. “There’s a defender here, so I go there. Oh, there’s another one there, so I drop my shoulder . . .” If people ask: “Did you mean the goal?” I say: “No, when I got on the coach to Newcastle I didn’t mean to score a goal like that.” The ball came in a certain way, so I turned and twisted and did this and that.’
When your left foot goes to the ball, surely the idea is to flick the ball one way and spin yourself the other? Your foot goes to touch the ball to the right but the rest of your body is already spinning left.
‘Of course. The pass is coming like this, but I want to go that way so the creativity in my brain goes: “OK I’m going to try this . . .” It’s the all-or-nothing part of my game. I could have gone for the safe way, control the ball and knock it back. Or maybe turn. But I know the defender is stepping in and the pace of the ball can help me. With a small touch the pace will still be there, so I can spin the ball and keep it within reach.’
Tony Adams thought you must have tried this kind of turn before. Was it a move you’d imagined ahead of time and practised, then executed when you got the opportunity?
‘No, no. It was nothing like that. If my first thought is: “I want to control the ball,” then I would never make that turn. But my first thought was: “I want to go to the goal and I’m going to do whatever it takes to go to the goal, no matter how the ball comes to me.” Ten yards before the ball arrived I made my decision: “I’m going to turn him.”’
Did you calculate Dabizas’s reaction?
‘Not that. But you know where the defender will be and that his knees will be bent a little, and that he will be standing a little wide, so he can’t turn. And he won’t expect it. The thought was: “I’ll just flick the ball and see what happens. Maybe the defender blocks it, or the flick is not wide enough, or he anticipates and gets two yards ahead. But maybe he’ll be surprised and I’ll be one or two yards in front of him.” As it happened, I still wasn’t in front of him, so I had to push him off. So you need some luck as well.’
So it’s a foul?
‘Never! You end up with the ball somewhere in the middle and you have to decide. Maybe you choose safety. Take it with your right and you open up the goal for yourself. Maybe the left is your weaker foot. It would have to be more of a good hit. You can’t really place it. But with your right foot . . . at the last moment I can go low, or high [he is pointing to the four corners of the goal]. And then you just open it and take the far corner.’
So you’re calculating at incredible speed?
‘It is more instinctive because you know from training sessions and from other games. You know how the ball will bounce, and how the defender will turn. You know when you push him where the ball will end up, and where the goalkeeper is. It’s not like you’ve done that for the first time, that shot and that push. You know from previous times.’
Thierry Henry observes: ‘You know my favourite thing about that goal? The way Dennis puts his body in front of Dabizas. Dennis makes the turn and then blocks the defender, and that’s what gives him all the time in the world to finish. Usually when you do something amazing you get carried away. How many times did you see a guy do a great control and then rush the finish? Dennis did something amazing but then he stayed composed. That’s the difference between
great players and normal players. A normal striker would be so happy to have made the turn he would try to blast it in. No! Calm down. Calm down! You did the most difficult thing. Now relax. Watch Dennis. The way he put his body between Dabizas and the ball was just amazing.’
SURELY, DENNIS, THAT must be your favourite goal.
‘No.’
Why ever not?
‘There’s a lot of luck involved. If the defender takes one step back then it’s finished. So it’s not pure. People talked so much about that goal I decided to watch it on TV. It was interesting because it looks quite different to what was in my mind. On TV you see the defender. I knew he was there, but I never saw him. I felt him a little bit, his presence, and I knew he was on this side. So those are facts. The ball was here. I want to go there . . . boom!
‘Generally, though, I don’t like tricks. I can enjoy it when other people do them, or when they work out for me. But it’s really not something on my mind. I don’t look for the chance to do a trick. It’s just not my game. My game is about first touch, control, passing. With one pass or one control, can I get myself or someone else in front of the goalkeeper? Can I create space to give a pass . . . That’s my passion, my speciality. For me, a trick is just . . . well, that’s all it is. For me, everything has to have a thought and meaning behind it. What does a trick contribute? It has to be functional. Art for art’s sake isn’t interesting.’