I was sad to hear of the death of Brazilian footballer Socrates. He was a member of that second most entertaining of Brazil teams: the one that lost to Italy (well, to Paolo Rossi) in the second stage of the 1982 World Cup tournament. His goal in that game was sublime as he appeared to ghost past an Italian defender and then comprehensively beat Dino Zoff (Dino Zoff!) at his near post. He also had an idiosyncratic way with penalty kicks – which he would take with absolutely no run-up.

In his non-footballing life he was a medic, qualifying as a doctor before taking up professional football.

I remember from TV reports of the Brazil camp in 1982 he could play guitar and hold a tune. He was a smoker, though, and also, it seems, overindulged in drink.

Sad to see him go.

Sócrates Brasileiro Sampaio de Souza Vieira de Oliveira (aren’t those Brazilian names wonderful?)
19/2/1954-4/12/2011. So it goes.

The History of Football Tactics, Orion, 2008, 356p.

This book does exactly what it sets out to, describing the evolution of football tactics from their formless beginnings when everybody on the pitch, apart from the goalkeeper, dribbled towards the opponents’ goal with team mates “backing up” in case the ball was lost, through the invention of passing (or, as it was delightfully phrased, combination play; I like that, let’s bring it back) in Scotland, the first real formation of 2-3-5 – one of whose pioneers was my beloved Dumbarton – mentioned on page 23 but not, alas, in the index – in winning their sole Scottish Cup in 1800 and long time ago, 1883 to be precise: its gradual stalemating till the offside law was changed in the 1920s to allow only two defenders between ball and goal line which in turn led to the withdrawal of the centre half into the back line of a 3-2-5 and the “classic” three defender, two half back, two inside forward, plus centre forward line-up of the W-M or W-W. The later adaptations of this formation (in some cases, as in Great Britain, very much later) via the diagonal, through the deep lying centre forward, 4-2-4, 4-4-2, 4-3-3 and 3-5-2, by which time the pyramid of the book’s title had been inverted, leading on to 4-5-1, even 4-6-0, plus the variations of all of these and the pressing game, are given their place and their innovators due recognition.

In particular the histories of football in various countries, Brazil, Argentina, Italy, Austria, Hungary, the USSR, the Netherlands, England, even a foray into the Scandinavian experience, and the life histories of the various coaches concerned, are admirably laid out as is the tension between attack and defence, creativity and negativity, craft and effort. Through it all the importance of system is a given. A well-organised and drilled side will always beat a disorganised one, or one following too rigid a previous template, provided the system is understood and adhered to.

The tendency for any innovations to be imitated at first mainly in a defensive sense is noted and in passing the notions of Charles Reep and Charles Hughes of direct football being particularly effective is knocked on the head, even on statistical grounds. In some cases it can be, as can any system, but against good players who can keep possession directness will fall down.

Whether football’s evolution has ended is a moot point but in the modern world with global TV coverage and worldwide scouting it is unlikely any team will be able to spring a truly revolutionary tactical surprise. But then again before that offside law alteration there had been little or no tactical change for around thirty years. In Britain, the W-M then held sway for another forty or so.

But the centre half disappeared as a half back, wingers disappeared, full backs became wing backs, wing halves and inside forwards turned into central defenders or midfielders, who evolved into holding players or playmakers; and the playmaker has all but disappeared. The centre forward may go the same way. (I would say that, arguably, with Barcelona, he already has. Messi is not a centre forward, Villa and Pedro tend not to play up the middle.)

In modern football flexibility within a system is a key ingredient, and fluidity. Modern players at the top level are no longer specialists in the way they were. Everyone is an attacker and defender at the same time. (However some will always remain more gifted and more general than others. At the level I watch football the demarcation of roles is still pronounced. I doubt that will change soon.) Football is actually a game played with space – or denying it – and not really with the ball. But, as Barcelona demonstrate, possession, keeping it and regaining it, certainly helps.

The book has occasional infelicities of the sprung for sprang type and a few typos but for all those interested in football and how it came to be the way it is this is a wonderful, informative and illuminating read. I thank my younger son for lending it to me.

Emirates Stadium, 27/3/11

This was 2-0 going on a doing. Brazil were, as expected, superior in every department.

What was especially noticeable was that every time they lost the ball they swarmed round the Scotland players and as a result got it back very quickly. Their speed of thought and movement were a cut above. Plus their virtuosity was sublime. Only the odd misplaced pass and then working like beavers to get the ball back.

Scotland’s players looked pedestrian.

We’re kidding ourselves if we think we can ever get near them.

Gollancz, 2010. 472p.

After Africa (Chaga – aka Evolution’s Shore -, Kirinya and Tendeleo’s Story,) India (River Of Gods, Cyberabad Days) and Brazil (Brasyl), in The Dervish House McDonald now turns his attention to Turkey: specifically Istanbul.

The novel is set several years after Turkey has finally gained EU membership and joined the Euro (perhaps a somewhat more remote possibility now than when McDonald was writing) in an era when children can control real, mobile, self assembling/disassembling transformers and adults routinely use nanotech to heighten awareness/response in much the way they do chemical drugs at present. The fruit of what may have been a prodigious quantity of geographical and historical research is injected more or less stealthily into the text.

The main plot is concerned with a terrorists group’s plans to distribute nano behaviour changing agents designed to engender a consciousness of mysticism, if not of the reality of God/Allah. The resultant, what would otherwise be magic realist visions of djinni and karin, is thereby given an SF rationale.

In the interlinked narratives of those who live in and around an old Dervish House in Adam Dede Square, and covering events occurring over only four days, there are subplots about contraband Iranian natural gas, corrupt financial institutions and insider dealings, the circumscription of non-Turkish minorities, tales of youthful betrayal and frustrated love, not to mention the discovery of an ancient mummy embalmed in honey, which last gives the author the opportunity to deploy a nice pun on the phrase honey trap. The usual eclectic McDonald conjunction of disparate ingredients, then, and somehow amid all this he manages to finagle football into the mix as early as page two. Fair enough, though; Turkey’s fans are notoriously passionate about the game.

While not quite reaching the heights of Brasyl or River Of Gods, The Dervish House still has more than enough to keep anyone turning the pages.

One typographical quibble: the formula for carbon dioxide ought to be rendered as CO₂ rather than CO², though. To a Chemist like me there is a world of difference between the two.

Greeen Point Stadium, Cape Town, 3/7/10.

A triumph for teamwork over individualism. The Argentines believed in their own abilities too much, kept the ball when a pass was on instead and ended up smothered by a German blanket. (Spain might be able to pass their way through this sort of defence; but I have my doubts. They don’t have enough width – as neither did Argentina.) The Germans knew exactly what to do when they had the ball, passed into the correct space and had scalpel-like precision when it mattered.

The turning point was really the first goal, a bad one for Argentina to lose as it gave the Germans extra belief – and something to hold on to. Without it, the first goal in the second half wouldn’t have been such a blow to Argentina. 1-0 down was perhaps doable, but not 2-0.

There are only two former winners left in it now. What odds would you have got on one of them being Uruguay? And neither being Brazil nor Argentina?

Nelson Mandela Bay Stadium Nelson Mandela Bay/Port Elizabeth, 2/7/10.

This match had drama but it wasn’t a classic. It was too stop-start, there were too many fouls. And any game where someone is sent off ends up unbalanced – and unsatisfying. But, as I recall, the Holland-Brazil game in 1974 was a bad-tempered, niggly affair too.

You couldn’t see the result coming at half time. Holland had created nothing, Arjen Robben kept running into blind alleys, Brazil had scored through a very direct route indeed.

In the end Brazil pushed the “destroy self” button, or the Dutch pushed it for them.

The irony is that a team built (against the national stereotype) on being solid at the back was undone by defensive mistakes.

The winning side wasn’t the Holland of Cruyff and Neeskens – nor even Gullit and Rijkaard – but something rather more pedestrian and workmanlike. They’ll probably reach the final now, though.

And maybe go one better than either of those more flamboyant teams did.

Ellis Park Stadium, Johannesburg, 28/6/10

This was a bit like last night’s game. One side bright and passing neatly, the other breaking quickly. Brazil are much more solid at the back than Argentina, though.

Chile flattered to deceive. In the end their passing went on too long and they were often crowded out. They had a marked reluctance to shoot, trying to carve out the perfect scoring opportunity or essaying an overambitious pass. They went down the middle too often and didn’t use width enough.

Brazil are getting more and more impressive.

Royal Bafokeng Stadium, Rustenburg, 12/6/10

Honours even, then. Possibly a fair result.

Contrary to the TV pundits I thought it was a thoroughly disjointed and lack-lustre performance from England in the first half – which the US dominated even if they didn’t work Robert Green enough. (As it turned out working him once was enough.)

Rooney was anonymous, Lampard was anonymous – I don’t recall him being on the ball at all till the second half.

The US, by contrast, seemed to have an idea of what they were trying to do: at least their passes were crisp and reaching their team mates.

It was noticeable that after the US goal the commentator suddenly remembered that the US pushed Brazil hard in the final of last year’s Confederations Cup.

In the second half things opened up a bit late on, Rooney began to make an impact on the game, but neither side looked totally convincing.

So. Did we see potential winners tonight?

Let’s put it this way.

I don’t think Brazil, Spain, Argentina or even Holland will be quaking in their boots.

Edited to add: I see from the highlights that Lampard was involved in the goal – but that was his only contribution to the first half.

With the event looming ever nearer, let us examine the record of “one of the favourites for the World Cup.”

1930: Thought it was beneath them/couldn’t be bothered.

1934: Thought it was beneath them/couldn’t be bothered.

1938: Thought it was beneath them/couldn’t be bothered.

1950: Discovered it wasn’t. Quite the reverse.
Eliminated in first round, famously, in Belo Horizonte, losing to USA 1-0.
An omen? (Also lost 1-0 to Spain.)

1954: Quarter-final, lost to Uruguay 4-2.

1958: First round play-off. Lost to USSR 1-0.

1962: Quarter-final, lost to Brazil 3-1.

1966: Downhill, with a following wind, a suspicious late switch of semi-final venue, not to mention a compliant Azerbaijani linesman, (take a bow, Tofik Bakhramov) drew in final 2-2 with West Germany, then “scored” twice in extra time.

1970: Quarter-final, drew 2-2 with West Germany; lost 3-2 after extra time.

1974: DNQ!

1978: DNQ!

1982: Drew 0-0 in second round (effectively the quarter-finals) not only with West Germany but also with Spain. Eliminated.

1986: Quarter-final, lost 2-1 to Argentina (or, if you like, to the hand of God.)

1990: Semi-final! (which they only reached because Cameroon couldn’t be bothered to sit on a lead.) Drew 1-1 with West Germany after “best goalkeeper in the world” cannot take two steps backwards at a free kick. (1-1 aet.) Lost on penalties.

1994: DNQ!

1998: Second round. Drew 2-2 with Argentina. (2-2 aet.) Lost on penalties.

2002: Quarter-finals. Lost 2-1 to Brazil. Yet another “best goalkeeper in the world” couldn’t stop a lobbed free kick.

2006: Quarter-finals. Drew 0-0 with Portugal. (0-0 aet.) Lost on penalties.

Out of seventeen tournaments only one final – and that at home.

Six no-shows, two first round failures, one (or two) second round exits, four (or five) quarter-final defeats, one loss at the semis stage.

It’s obviously going to be a skoosh, lads.

Ellis Park Stadium, Johannesburg

Cracking final.
USA rocked a poor Brazil back on their heels first half and were well worth the two goal lead. The early goal second half put the writing on the wall, though, and it was all Brazil from then on. So in the end the world wasn’t turned upside down.

The US are good when they have eleven men on the park. The rest of us are stuffed if mainstream US ever takes proper football to its heart over their own version, baseball and basketball. Or if China gets its football act together.

One remark from the commentators: “England really don’t have anything to fear next year,” – Mark Bright.
Oh, dear.