THE FALL OF IRELAND’S ELITE FOOTBALLERS

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The decline in the number of Irish players in the Premier League is concerning for a nation now ranked 70th in the world.

Originally published on These Football Times 31/07/2014.

Upon arrival in cities, generations of Irish migrants’ first port of call, with the possible exception of the nearest public house, would have been a place to stay. Settling in industrial centres such as London and Liverpool, Manchester and Glasgow, New York and Boston, the majority from the 19th century onwards were escaping abject poverty and an insular rural society that offered little opportunity to better their quality of life.

However some who sought accommodation upon arrival were greeted by signs declaring: ‘No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish’. The overwhelming majority of Irish migrants were uneducated, unskilled and socially unrefined, considered almost sub-human by the native, ruling elite and stereotyped as such by the popular press. The experience of migrants encountering racism is by no means exclusive to the Irish and such discrimination is something that is largely resigned to the past.

Many Irish still have to relocate to find gainful employment, escaping unemployment rather than famine, but the majority are now greater educated, skilled and employable. In this global and largely more tolerant age, Irish migrants do not face the same level of hardship and opposition as their predecessors. Instead it is emigrating young Irish footballers that now face career dead ends.

To play in the Premier League, as for millions all over the world, represents the ultimate goal for young Irish footballers. The English top flight is by far the most popular football league and, for the vast majority of Irish fans and media outlets, dwarfs the relevance of the League of Ireland.

However, unlike recently emerged fan markets in Asia, North America and Africa, English football’s popularity was embedded in Ireland long before the Premier League. Former Ireland and Leeds United midfielder Johnny Giles in his autobiography recounts listening to the radio broadcast of Manchester United’s 1948 FA Cup final victory. Giles was eight-years-old, United was his favourite team, and the captain Johnny Carey, a fellow Dubliner, was his favourite player.

Giles would follow in Carey’s footsteps, joining United as a teenager and breaking into the first team in the seasons following the Munich air disaster. Just as England represented the primary destination for Irish labour migrants, Irish footballers have long plied their trade successfully in their Anglo neighbour’s top flight. From the 1940s through to first decade of this century, Irish footballers have populated England’s top teams.

From Giles to Belfast’s George Best, Liam Brady to Paul McGrath, Roy Keane to David O’Leary, Irish players have been among the most successful and, for some, best footballers of their respective generations. The great Liverpool and Arsenal teams (pictured, the Irish contingent at the Gunners in the 80s – O’Leary, Stapleton, Jennings, Nelson, Devine, Rice, Brady) of the 1980s had a strong Irish contingent, as did Manchester United during the same period. Ireland once had a healthy representation at Arsenal and, during the Premier League era, the all-conquering United, captained by Keane, featured stalwarts Denis Irwin and later John O’Shea. In 2014, the largest Irish Premier League contingent is at strugglers Hull City.

In the 2007/08 season, Irish players made up 6% of footballers in the Premier League, the second most represented nationality after England. In the 2013/14 season, Irish players accounted for 4.7% of top flight participants, down to fourth most represented nationality. Observers might argue this is not a particularly alarming drop, however when you consider this development alongside other aspects, it becomes apparent that Irish football is in a state of decline.

The national team is currently ranked 70th in the world. The numbers following the career paths of Giles and co, departing Ireland as teenagers to make it in Britain’s big leagues, is ever dwindling and the career progression paths stemmed. Last season Celtic’s Anthony Stokes was the only Irish representative in the Champions League group stage, while the three best Irish performers in the Premier League were Seamus Coleman and James McCarthy of Everton, and Hull’s Shane Long.

The paths of these three players are at the heart of Irish football’s woes; they are successful, or play for Ireland, by accident, not design. McCarthy is a Glaswegian of Irish descent, who chose to represent the country of his grandfather’s birth. The Irish diaspora may be large and the team have long used it as a means for finding players, but it is no longer a reliable model. McCarthy is the exception to the rule and, as England and Scotland’s own playing pools continue to dwindle, Ireland will be fortunate if a player of such quality falls into their lap again.

Coleman and Long’s careers are another case of accident rather than design. Both come from rural, Gaelic Games strongholds in Donegal and Tipperary respectively. Neither are football academy graduates and both played for provincial football teams until moving to England as adults. Long was eighteen when Reading signed him for a nominal fee, Coleman aged twenty when David Moyes took him to Everton for £60,000 in 2009. Despite their undoubted raw talent and admirable work ethic to secure such moves, the transfers, from the English club’s perspective, would have been considered low-risk transactions.

Coleman and Long moved to England around the age when many of their Irish contemporaries would be returning home, or dropping down the divisions, having failed to make a breakthrough at the top clubs. These previously considered, more talented players, would have taken the path treaded by Giles, Brady and O’Shea. Moving to England as a teenager, entering the youth team and hoping to progress to the reserves and then the first team. However, for the vast majority of Irish football emigrants, the path is now blocked.

Liverpool manager Brendan Rodgers was in Dublin for a friendly with Irish side Shamrock Rovers last May. The Northern Irishman was quizzed on the declining number of Irish prospects at English clubs and gave little hope for optimism. “It’s a lot more difficult now,” Rodgers said. “A lot of the Irish lads start their apprenticeship at 16, but even then it’s too late as boys across the water are beginning at the age of eight and by the time they’re 16, they’ve been trained technically, tactically, physically and mentally and then they’re ready to step into full-time football.”

Rodgers paints a bleak scenario for young Irish footballers, but also an unavoidable reality. The lucky few who manage to get to English club academies, the players deemed to be the best prospects, are already significantly stunted due to the greater accelerated development of their new teammates. If they survive and then thrive enough to make a top flight first team, it will be something akin to a footballing miracle, another case of accident trumping design.

The export market is one of the key tenants of the Irish economy, in both boom and bust years. However the market for exporting football talent has significantly diminished. Therefore the current situation facing Irish football is either to improve the exported product or focus on being self-sufficient by developing a viable outlet for talent to thrive at home.

Ireland is a small country – the Republic has a population of just over 4.5 million – and thus the talent pool is comparatively shallow. However, unlike bigger countries, Ireland’s population is largely centralised and therefore the condition is ripe to introduce a centralised development plan. Uruguay, a country that mirrors Ireland in this sense, albeit with a stronger footballing identity, has done such in recent years. There is a clear, cohesive structure and development plan from youth to senior football, when the best players will be exported. Irish football by comparison is fractured.

Another argument offered for Ireland’s woes has been the challenge of other popular team sports, such as Gaelic games and rugby. However football is the number one participation sport. The Dublin District Schoolboys League is the largest league of its kind in Europe, with over two hundred clubs and 16,000 players competing. One would imagine there has to be another Liam Brady in there somewhere.

So if the interest and participation remains high, the onus falls on the coaches to mould and educate the talent. However it is strikingly obvious that, like England, there are not enough of these coaches. In 2013, Ireland had 45 UEFA Pro licences, 183 holders of the ‘A’ licence and 488 with the ‘B’ licence. A factor may be that these qualifications are markedly more expensive to obtain in Ireland and England than Germany or Spain. There are still many coaches at all levels without such qualifications who admirably dedicate their time and effort.

That said, there are also too many who favour physicality over creativity, who instruct their teams to hoof the ball to the big lad and who place an emphasis players minimising their mistakes above expressing themselves. Physical prowess is valued over technical or cognitive development. The Irish culture of exporting talent also leads to many coaches seeking the short path, hoping they can be the one to get their player a dream move to a team in England.

The dangers of developing players for export, just like the migrant experience, are not unique to the Irish. At the World Cup it was startling to see Brazil, a footballing giant and country of two hundred million people, without a creative, dynamic presence in their midfield. To develop such a player takes time, patience and technical coaching. Instead Brazil had Hulk.

Scouts from elite teams will still visit Brazil, hoping to find the next great prospect, but the same cannot be said of Ireland. After a few months in his new role, Ireland manager Martin O’Neill was disparaging about the lack of young players to select, saying: “In the back of my mind, I thought ‘there must be five, six, seven young lads playing who will maybe break through’. But at this minute, I haven’t spotted it.”

It could be argued that these players would materialise through self-sufficiency involving a cohesive structure with a clear playing philosophy and a greater number of coaches to properly implement it. This would involve patience, foresight, and of course, money spent on grassroots football; three attributes few would associate with the Football Association of Ireland. John Delaney, the Chief Executive, has a yearly salary that is more than the prize money awarded to the winners of the domestic top flight. The association has had a raft of redundancies in recent years and their primary objective is reducing the association’s significant level of debt by 2020.

Essentially the organisation, like Ireland as a country, is run akin to a multinational corporation, where the financial bottom is what counts. The Irish government’s sustained policy of economic austerity, an offshoot of years of neo-liberalist subjugation and mismanagement, has fuelled mass migration and further widened a wealth gap that was the largest in the developed world even during the boom years.

This is a place where the needs of the grassroots are diminished by the wants of those atop the pyramid. The prospect of self-sufficiency, conjecture or even a sustained reflection on the many social problems is just not feasible. In such a scenario, the chance of the next Giles, Brady or Keane breaking through at an elite English club is about as remote as the migrant staying the night at the lodgings which allowed ‘No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish’.

THE FETISHIZATION OF ENGLISH FOOTBALL

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The problems facing English football have been well documented for almost two decades. But what about the fetishization of the national game and Premier League?

Originally published by These Football Times 17/07/2014.

There was one notable element absent from England’s exit from the World Cup: the tabloid scapegoat. Following exits from past tournaments, or failures to qualify, the popular press, either reflecting or attempting to dictate the popular consensus, have not been shy in anointing a fall-guy or focusing on a moment of misfortune.

David Beckham, in the most infamous case, was the ‘one silly boy’ among ‘ten brave lions’ in 1998. Phil Neville was pilloried for conceding a penalty-kick against Romania which led to England’s exit from Euro 2000. There was Steve McClaren, ‘the wally with the brolly’, and Fabio Capello, the dictatorial, overpaid foreigner. There was Cristiano Ronaldo in 2006, and even as far back as 1970, goalkeeper Peter Bonetti. However, following England’s exit at the World Cup group stage for first time since 1958, there is no serious outcry or, thankfully, digitised fusing of manager Roy Hodgson’s head with a root vegetable.

There are a number of reasons for this seemingly new measured departure. The notable decline of the popular press’s influence, eroded by social media, Luis Suárez hoarding the news cycle the day of England’s final game and the remainder of an engrossing tournament to digest. There has also been a general levelling of expectations to match with the perceived reality of the talent at England’s disposal.

However, in a slightly perverse manner, the lack of an obvious scapegoat is troubling for the Three Lion’s and their future fortunes. It means that there are possibly just too many shortcomings to shift focus on one singular moment, action or person.

English football is seemingly littered with contradictions. The World Cup campaign was deemed a failure, yet defeats to Italy and Uruguay is in line with England’s standard performance at international tournaments. When the Three Lions face a higher ranked team, it overwhelming ends in defeat. Players such as Adam Lallana and Luke Shaw were not first choice England players, but completed moves to Liverpool and Manchester United for £25 million and £34 million respectively upon returning home.

England was also widely considered to have a young squad and optimism remains for Hodgson’s team. However, the average age of the squad was 26, the ninth youngest in the tournament and older than quarter-finalists Belgium, Germany and the Netherlands. The English Premier League is proclaimed by many to be the most exciting, and best, league in the world, yet just a third of the players are English.

Football is England’s national sport and crowd attendances at games are among the highest for professional sports leagues in the world. Meanwhile the numbers participating in sport continues to decline. With such polarising elements, it is no wonder that tabloids cannot find a scapegoat. As Paul Scholes, the former Manchester United and England midfielder recently said: “What’s the problem? Where do I start?”

The most immediate issues have been well documented upon England’s elimination from the World Cup. There has been focus on selection decisions, such as playing Wayne Rooney out of position, and the exclusion of Ashley Cole. The focus then extended to the talents of both Andrea Pirlo and Luis Suárez, England’s uncharacteristically porous defence compared to previous tournaments, and Roy Hodgson’s tactics.

Former England player Gary Lineker was among those critical of the England manager’s choices, stating: “The problem with this 4-2-3-1 is that it very quickly becomes a 4-4-2 or at least a 4-4-1-1 and we end up with flat lines and people getting between us.” There is undoubted merit in Lineker’s argument. The 2014 World Cup will be remembered for, among other things, the numerous tactical shifts by coaches, and the return to prominence of three central defenders.

England’s 4-2-3-1 formation, the default setting for the majority of teams at the 2010 World Cup, seems stale in comparison to the tactical tinkering of Netherland’s manager Louis van Gaal, the cohesive structure of Costa Rica or the exhilarating gumption of Chile’s 3-4-1-2.

Rio Ferdinand was also critical of Hodgson. The former England defender said the manager is: “…certainly no maverick, he doesn’t change matches with inspirational substitutions and I see little evidence of a collective buying into a master plan for England, if there even is one.” Whatever about the merits of the rest of Ferdinand’s view, the final five words of the excerpt are particularly telling.

Ferdinand’s admission further conveys that England’s woes do not begin and end with Hodgson. The manager may not have a master plan but apparently neither do the Football Association. Chairman Greg Dyke claimed the country can win the World Cup in 2022 and proposed forging a new league between the Conference and League Two. The proposed league, now seemingly unlikely to happen, was to consist of Premier League ‘B’ teams, acting as a gateway to the first team for young English players starved of action in the top flight.

The semi-final stage of the World Cup had twenty players who compete in the Premier League, just one less than the German Bundesliga. However, none of these players are English, while seventeen of those who ply their trade in the Bundesliga represent Germany. A picture begins to emerge when these factors are taken into account. It is surprising that those who seek scapegoats have not fixed their gaze on the Premier League.

That said, scapegoating or media witch-hunts are not to be welcomed as they are neither constructive nor attractive. Yet the lack of serious, sustained conjecture regarding the seemingly negative effect the league is having on the development of English players is perhaps evidence of which is of greater importance to many fans and elements of the media.

Paul Scholes does however pin a degree of blame for England’s failings on the Premier League, saying the division “is a cash cow and it’s hurting our national game”. Scholes also believes that it is the high number of foreign players within the league that is proving damaging to England’s international hopes. “We should limit the amount of foreign players allowed in each Premier League squad. Clubs will then only sign the best, and English talent gets priority for development.”

Scholes is not the first to propose a limit on foreign players and he won’t be the last. However, the English top flight would have been unquestionably weaker without the contributions of players such as Dennis Bergkamp, Cristiano Ronaldo and Luis Suárez. Is the problem that less distinguished foreign players hamper young English development? Or are there simply not enough good home-grown players?

This is seemingly something of a chicken and egg scenario, as there merit for both sides of the argument. However, it is an ultimately futile question, as a cap on foreign players will not happen and it is not in the league’s interests to introduce any measures to potentially alter their product. The Premier League may not be the cause of all the Three Lions’ problems, yet it is seemingly not the solution either.

The competition is undoubtedly exciting, full of compelling narratives featuring some of the world’s best players. However, it could be argued that the Premier League is not an English league, but rather a league based in England. It features elements synonymous with English football, such as open attacking games, packed stadiums and clubs steeped in tradition and history.

It is also a free market capitalist enterprise and, as a result, the Premier League operates primarily in pursuit of profit for its stakeholders. A competitive England team is simply not a concern for the league’s powerbrokers. That does not mean these same people do not wish the Three Lions to be successful, rather that they would not see it as their obligation. The league is broadcast worldwide and as such its participants reflect its audience and the freedom of labour and capital that is at the heart of free-market capitalism.

German philosopher Karl Marx’s theory of fetishism seems apt in relation to the Premier League and the national team. Marx wrote that objects or systems, such as commodities or money or the open market system, are created by people but eventually come to hold power over them. At this stage the needs of the fetishized system or object must be preserved over all concerns.

So if one was to argue that some of the billions sloshing around the coffers of the Premier League clubs could be used to more effectively foster young English players’ development, they would be missing the point. It is not about how much money these clubs have or how willing they are for English national team to be successful.

The more money that flows into Premier League clubs, the more it will be used to preserve the current system; a system where a squad player from a national team that crashes out of the World Cup in the first round is valued at £25 million. A system where domestic players represent 32% of top flight participants, where fans eagerly expect the next overseas star to drive their team to glory and agent fees total almost £100 million per year.

David Goldblatt, author and academic, recently noted: “Like the wider economy, English football will continue to excel at its peak as a globally orientated commercial venture, but for the world of the lower leagues and youth and grassroots football, out of which a successful national football culture is built, there is more penury to come.”

England was failing on the international stage long before the Premier League, billion pound broadcasting deals and the influx of foreign players. The league alone is not to blame for England’s early World Cup exit and will not be the sole cause of any future heartbreak. However, its needs now seemingly surpass all other concerns.

Scholes does not seem optimistic for the future of the English national team. Speaking about the FA Chairman’s claims that the Three Lions can win the World Cup in 2022, he said: “From what I’ve seen at this World Cup, we’ll be lucky to qualify. I fear England are going the way of the Republic of Ireland, Wales and Scotland.”

Wales last qualified for an international tournament in 1958 and Northern Ireland the 1986 World Cup in Mexico. Scotland, once regular participants on the international stage, last featured in 1998, while the Republic of Ireland, at Euro 2012, had a jilting experience. At the 2002 World Cup, Ireland recovered from the loss of their captain Roy Keane, outplayed Germany in a 1-1 group game before losing to Spain on penalties in the second round.

Ten years later, within the space of three months, Ireland lost 4-0 and 1-6 to Spain and Germany respectively. In the preceding decade the two European footballing superpowers had undoubtedly improved, yet Ireland had equally regressed. Irish football fans, the majority of whom support English teams, still enjoy the World Cup. The presence of so many recognisable Premier League players perhaps offers a degree of solace despite the national team’s absence from international tournaments. In ten years’ time will such a scenario appease English fans?

Cult of the Individual transcends all within Football

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Originally published by These Football Times 10/06/2014.

Football is a game where the strength of the collective is meant to prevail over the fallibility of the individual. However, some of the greatest teams, their widest victories, and slimiest losses, are defined by individual participants and their performances. The saying that ‘success has many fathers, but failure is an orphan’ seemingly does not apply to international football.

Argentina’s World Cup victory in 1986 is widely regarded as the result of Maradona’s genius dragging a capable, but unspectacular, team to glory. Twenty years later France lost the final to Italy on penalties, however Zinedine Zidane’s sending off is seen as the game’s turning point. The 1998 World Cup final is remembered more for the mystery around the condition of Brazil’s prodigious forward Ronaldo, than France’s victory.

When the next month of football concludes, the summer passes and club football returns, the memories of the upcoming World Cup will, for many, start to fade and crystallise around certain key moments and performances. The narrative of football, despite being a team game, predominately centres on individual performances.

The cult of the individual is omnipresent. Players such as Lionel Messi, Cristiano Ronaldo and Luis Suarez are considered the leaders of their teams. The estimation of their subsequent careers will be in part formed by their country’s performance in this month’s tournament.

This is the case for Messi perhaps more than his rivals. One would imagine that the Argentina captain has more than enough goals, trophies and broken records, at club level, to be remembered as perhaps football’s greatest, regardless of his national team’s fortunes in this World Cup. However, in his homeland, it will be the World Cup that ultimately defines his career. For the rest of the world, the World Cup could confirm his place as the sport’s greatest.

Everything seems to have fallen into place for Messi to lead his country to a third World Cup title in in Brazil, unlike the tournament four years ago. In that World Cup Maradona was the Argentina manager and the dominant figure, hoarding the spotlight as he lead his side to a crushing 4-0 defeat against Germany in the quarter-finals. Messi was somewhere in the team’s tactical muddle, but not the focal point and not among the goals. Maradona departed but Argentina and Messi continued to disappoint. A year later, on home soil, they lost to neighbours Uruguay on penalties in the Copa America semi-final. Change was needed.

Alejandro Sabella became manager, instantly made Messi captain and set about constructing a team that extracted the maximum from the world’s best player. There was no place for Carlos Tevez, a person rumoured not to be in Messi’s good books, and the team was set up in an attacking 4-3-3 formation. Sabella utilised his stunning striking riches to paper over the poverty of his defensive options. Messi was now the team’s captain, focal point and undisputed leader.

Argentina reaped the benefits during qualifying and, despite some stuttering performances, comfortably qualified for Brazil, with Messi scoring ten in the process. The team have a favourable draw for this month’s tournament, potentially avoiding any elite teams until the quarter-finals. While the advent of playing their games in the south of Brazil, avoiding the tropical drain of the northern climate, could prove very beneficial. Messi also turns 27 this month, entering the perceived peak years of an athlete’s career. Everything seems set up for him to lead Argentina to glory and firmly stake his place as the game’s greatest ever.

If Messi is to lead Argentina to victory it will be in his own way. He is, unlike Maradona or Ronaldo, an introvert, a style of leader that is perhaps alien to Argentinians. However, his talented teammates have bent their will to his genius. Whether it is correct to think so or not, the destiny of his country’s tournament is now at his feet. One may argue that Messi is the greatest player ever, that the need to cater to his genius must take precedent above all and for the team to flourish, Messi must flourish. There is undoubted merit in this argument. However, there is evidence to suggest placing sole emphasis on the performance of one player, no matter how great they are, can be risky. And such responsibility can be a double edged sword.

At the European Championships two years ago, Cristiano Ronaldo, after a shaky start, helped propel his country to a semi-final tie with Spain. After a scoreless 120 minutes, where Ronaldo’s threat had been effectively nullified by the Spanish defence, the game went to a penalty shootout. Portugal’s talisman chose to take the fifth, and potentially final, penalty.

However, his country did not get a fifth penalty as Spain wrapped up the contest before Ronaldo’s turn. It would be unfair to pin the sole responsibility for this loss on the Real Madrid superstar. Yet his choice, it could be argued, was one of seeking personal glory. He jeopardised his greater responsibility to make sure his team progressed, or at least got the opportunity to take the final penalty.

‘The Great Man’ theory of history became a popular ideal during the 19th century. Its proponents believed that history has been shaped by powerful, charismatic, influential men, such as Napoleon and Julius Caesar or Martin Luther. These ‘great’ men were considered to be predestined to change the world, and the history of the world was, in essence, a history of great men.

The theory would eventually become widely debunked. To consider one person to exist outside the complex vacuum of greater social, political or economic events is redundant. However it is still present within football. People still search for heroes and villains. The narrative is simplified and condensed to centre on the individual moment of magic or disaster.

In Dennis Bergkamp’s book, Stillness and Speed: My Story, written with journalist David Winner, Arsenal manager Arsene Wenger says: ‘It can sometimes become detrimental if one player is so strong that the team always goes through him, because the variety of your game can suffer’. This seems like sound logic as individuals will not always save the day. The past three European Championships, and two World Cups, won by Spain and Italy, have been victories for the collective. Each side had great players, but there was no one superstar who rose above all and drove the team to glory.

However, despite Argentina’s embarrassment of attacking riches, this is exactly their game plan. Former Brazil playmaker Zico, speaking about the country’s chances for this World Cup, said: ‘Of course Messi won’t play on his own and Argentina have an impressive “collection” in the form of Ángel di María, Sergio Agüero and Ezequiel Lavezzi. But these guys seem to know its Messi’s show, that 70% or 80% of the balls have to go to him’.

Messi’s genius seemingly transcends the collective. It could be argued that the fascination with the individual within a team sport would mean that the focus would be on Messi regardless of whether he was the team’s leader or not. Perhaps it is easier to focus on individual moments, than something more complex. People have created heroes and villains for centuries and individual acts have a universal quality.

Prior to the last World Cup France captain Thierry Henry was widely vilified for his handball against Ireland in the World Cu play-off. Henry had been deemed to send Ireland out and France to South Africa. However, while there is no denying the French player cheated and the officials failed to adequately perform their roles, very few had mentioned Ireland’s role in the act.

The awful defending by Paul McShane or the fact Henry was able to take the ball down in the opposition’s box. The goalkeeper not coming for the ball or the many chances Ireland missed to finish the game before that point. That estimation may seem as cruel as Henry’s act, but the hard truth was there were numerous other factors in the result. For the handball to be effective there needed to be mistakes made before and after the act.

However that was all forgotten as the footage of Henry handling the ball, twice, played on endless loop for days and weeks. Henry was a villain and that was that. The margins in football are slim, but become tighter through the condensing of events into individual moments or acts. The middle ground shrinks further and further.

So, if Messi can lead his country to glory, on enemy soil, he will be the proud father of success. If Argentina falls short, it will be his failure. Over to you Leo.

Spain: You’ll Miss Them When They’re Gone

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Praised by many for their modern style of play, yet criticized by others for their perceived boring tactics, I look at why we’ll miss this generation of Spain players when they’re gone.

Originally published by These Football Times 3/6/2014.

As televised football coverage becomes increasingly saturated, there is a chance that football fans may take for the granted the mortality of footballers’ professional careers and the lifespans of certain teams. Watching the game’s greatest players – a rare treat for previous generations – is now, for many, a weekly occurrence. Each week one can watch Liverpool’s Luiz Suárez bewitch a defence, before switching over to see either Cristiano Ronaldo or Lionel Messi score yet another hat-trick. After a while the extraordinary can seem ordinary and familiarity can breed, if not contempt, complacency.

A certain over-exposure can extend to international teams, in particular World and European Champions Spain. Watching Spain play, and win, in major tournaments has practically become a summer event for football fans. The upcoming World Cup in Brazil is the fifth time in the past six years they have featured in an international competition. Aiming for an unprecedented fourth consecutive title, the team, naturally, is widely respected. However, there is a sense that respect does not extend to affection, or even adequate appreciation, of the team’s style, the magnitude of their achievements, and the road Spain took to reach such heights playing in such a manner.

During Spain’s last major tournament, Euro 2012, The Daily Telegraph conducted a poll, on their website, asking: ‘Are you bored of Spain?’ Of the 1,243 people who voted, 65% said they were. Spain monopolised possession as opponents entrenched themselves at the edge of their penalty box, looking to spring a counter attack. Games, as a result, could quickly reach a sense of stalemate. However Spain, despite some nervy moments against Croatia and a penalty shoot-out victory over Portugal, still progressed comfortably to the final to face Italy.

The Azzurri were the only team to score against them, in the opening group game, a 1-1 draw, and with players in form such as Andrea Pirlo and Mario Ballotelli, combined with a strong defence, an upset appeared possible. Spain won 4-0. The final score may have been slightly skewed as Italy suffered injuries, yet Spain were truly imperious in clinching an historic third successive international crown. Midfielder Xavi recently acknowledged the popular labelling of his team as boring, saying:

“It’s true that we were criticised for being boring at Euro 2012, yet that boring team beat Italy 4-0 in the final.”

If such a dominant victory vindicated Spain’s style and rebuked any suggestions of sterile football, last summer’s defeat to Brazil in the Confederation’s Cup final seemingly had the reverse effect. Spain was crushed 3-0 by the hosts. Combined with the Champions League pummelling’s of Barcelona by Bayern Munich 7-0 on aggregate, the consensus was loud in proclaiming that tiki taka’s dominance was dead.

Spain struggled to cope with Brazil’s imposing tactics. The hosts, buoyed by a fervent crowd, played with manic aggression and intensity, repeatedly forcing their opponents into uncharacteristic errors. They suffocated their play, hunting in packs and preying on any sign of Spanish vulnerability. However, while the Spaniards were gracious in defeat and Brazil worthy winners, the margin of victory was slimmer than the final score suggests.

Yet La Furia Roja’s aura of invincibility, built up over so many summers, had been shattered. Serial winners such as Xavi and Andrés Iniesta seemed fragile, unable to pass their way around the brute force of Brazil. The defeat could easily be construed as the beginning of the end of modern football’s greatest international team. Carles Puyol, the former defensive stalwart, is now retired. David Villa and Fernando Torres, previous lynchpins of success, are in decline, the latter terminally so. Other key protagonists like Iker Casillas and Xabi Alonso are the wrong side of thirty. Spain enters this World Cup as relative outsiders to retain their title.

The country still has an incredibly talented squad, and, if fit, a more direct option in the form of striker Diego Costa. However, for players such as Xavi, Iniesta, Casillas, Alonso, Torres and Villa, this is, most likely, their final World Cup. If Spain can progress through a tough group and overcome the world’s best on the way to final, in the process effectively managing the challenges of the climate and the logistics of travelling across the best part of a continent, will the tag of being ‘boring’ return?

In all likelihood, the Spanish players could not care less. As Iniesta said, during Euro 2012, “Football’s so great because not everyone likes the same thing, we don’t have to all agree on everything”. However, should Spain’s brilliance override any questions of perceived boring play? And what does it say about society when people make such judgements in the face of sustained overt quality and success?

“I prefer to play football, not just to get the ball forward at the first opportunity. I try to wait for, or to create, the best opportunity for the right pass.” That is a quote from Spain manager Vicente del Bosque, speaking in 1981, taken from Graham Hunter’s book Spain: The Inside Story of La Roja’s Historic Treble. At the time del Bosque was a Real Madrid midfielder, in the mould of Sergio Busquets, and nearing the end of his career. The future national team manager was explaining his playing style to the Madrid fans, for whom he had become something of a boo-boy.

Del Bosque could just as easily be talking about the current Spain side’s philosophy. The recent Spanish teams have had some of the most technically proficient players to have ever played the game, playing in a style embodied by Xavi. The Barcelona midfielder’s prime, like the Spain team, is deemed to have passed, and effectively managing his playing time could be crucial in Brazil. However Xavi is still the brain of one of football’s most intelligent teams. Why would a footballer, with such technical ability, and who has been taught from childhood not to recklessly use the ball, play any other way?

Spain may place an imperative on ball retention, but if their opponents are unable to dispossess them, or chose not to, should the sole responsibility for the game reaching a stalemate lay with them? Former Liverpool midfielder, Graeme Souness, also speaking in Hunter’s book, does not believe so.

“Those who criticise Spain for their manner of winning now know nothing about football. We were hugely successful at Liverpool and we were taught, from day one, to keep the ball. Don’t try a pass through the eye of a needle; win the ball, circulate it, start again and again if you have to, but seek the right opportunity. That’s what Spain do excellently today.”

Perhaps it is over-familiarity that has made some football fans tire of Spain’s domineering style. The great international teams of the past would not have experienced such exposure. Hungary, from 1951 to ‘56, one of the most revered sides of all time, played 59 games and only lost one, the World Cup final in ’54 to West Germany. Granted games at the time were more open, but would such dominance in the modern era be greeted with the same indifference Spain seem to encounter?

Modern society is consumed by instant gratification. The church of consumerism is the dominant ethos and it promises and promotes the idea that satisfaction is just a shiny new product away. When the effect wears off, there is another product to fill the void. Everything seemingly relates to right now.

This obsession can extend to making judgements based only on the current, meaning appreciation of something more nuanced and greater can be difficult such as the popular advent of watching television dramas, when they have ended their run, in short bulks. Consuming shows like The Wire, The Sopranos or Breaking Bad, over a short period of time, is more appealing than following them week to week, month to month and year to year. The slow-burn is deemed boring, but the gorge is thrilling.

There is an argument to suggest that this ideal skews some fans enjoyment and appreciation of the current Spain side. In isolation, a succession of sideways passes do, admittedly, seem boring. However, when one considers more than just a few short passes, a different picture emerges. Consider the overall philosophy of Spain, to play such technical football with a genuine love and respect for the game.

Consider the technique required, the intelligence, the timing and the countless off the ball runs. The sustained harmony of a potentially divided squad, that has transcended provincial and club divides, a once vitriolic media, an expectant Spanish public and the manoeuvrings of the Machiavellian José Mourinho. The mental strength and physical stamina required to come back, season after season, summer after summer, when many would have rested on their laurels, to keep winning.

However, for many, Spain’s brilliance will still pale in recognition to their perceived sterile domination. For some of their greatest players this could be the last summer to watch them in action. In that 1981 interview, del Bosque also said: “I have been around for many years and I guess the fans tire of you, but that will change back”. Perhaps, like The Wire or Breaking Bad, people will learn to love Spain when the show finally ends.