Fantastic Semi-finals and the Return of an Old Refrain

The semifinals are always the most obsessively dissected games in the World Cup. They are generally more dramatic and entertaining than nervy affairs of finals, and they are more concentrated with quality than the quarterfinal fixtures. Moreover, after the semifinals, we get the most substantial break during the World Cup. So there is scope to churn out a lot of content. The two semifinals of this World Cup have been a blast. And both matches have received due media attention. I would have little to add to that if I had not been struck by how, in the discussions surrounding both the semifinals, the issue of holding on to the ball had been so central. It’s not something novel. Rather, it’s something that I have seen long before.

The game between the two best sides of the World Cup was surprisingly devoid of contest. Of all things that could be expected, this seemed the least plausible. While there was always a chance that France, widely touted for long as champions elect, would find it relatively difficult against a side that tries to keep most of the ball, nobody had expected Spain to be so roundly dominant.  For the entirety of the match, only the Iberian side seemed like worthy winners. The belief that France’s chances remained alive until very late was founded only on our knowledge of and expectations around a certain Mbappe, aided by an array of technically superb forward players.
Some sort of recency bias is certainly clouding my judgment when I say Spain demonstrated one of the greatest ever defensive performances in the history of the World Cups.

But even if this is an over-reaction, I think this Spain outfit, thwarting a French attack full of quick-footed invention and dazzling panache, have earned with this clean-sheet, a claim to be cited for decades to come as a landmark defensive performance in the most prestigious of stages. This was unarguably the best attack of the tournament squaring up against unarguably the best defence of the tournament and the latter had more of the ball. In the canonical collection of football matches billed as best attack vs best defence, it is astronomically rare for the side presumed to have the best defence to have a bigger share of possession even when they end up winners. The semifinal in Dallas is exemplary because Spain were not reacting to defend against attacks as much as they pro-actively snuffed out the possibilities to fashion attacks.

But on-the-ball defending is not entirely a new phenomenon. The Spanish school of passing football that was flowering in the later years of the first decade of this century was already heavily reliant on defending with the ball – Spain’s tactical approach during their maiden world cup triumph in 2010 is a testament to that. But back then, “Tiki-taka”, as it became known, was a shiny new doctrine which was potent with optimism and aspiration. Moreover, the presence of a once-in-a-generation midfield of great technical incisiveness and keen in-game intelligence was crucial. It was the symphony-like interplay and spatial understanding that they brought to the table which made a rather tedious tactical plan look like a fresh genre of poetry.

A lot has happened since. The developments in strategizing intricate pressing patterns, a focus on controlling the turn-overs and a renewed emphasis on physicality has led to sweeping changes to football’s tactical mainstream. The tikitaka is now considered an archaic strategy that is widely derided for its lack of verticality and long predictable passages of play where little happens. The failures faced by Spain in world cups since 2010 are often explained in terms of the deficiencies of an approach prioritising possession and control over creativity and risk.

The football that Spain played in their victorious Euro 2024 campaign had been possession-heavy but it was a far-cry from the old tiki-taka because of its reliance on speedy ball-carrying wingers. In this tournament though, they are playing something far more comparable, at least visually, to the 2010 vintage. There are some obvious differences – the profile and the movements of the starting centre-forward bears testimony to that, but overall Spain’s fascinating success in this tournament has acted as a reminder that if done properly, possession-heavy football still can provide a wonderfully effective counterpoint to the physically imposing and frantic turn-over-centric approaches.

France’s failure to deal with an elite opponent by integrating four attackers feels quite predictable in retrospect. There are numerous cautionary tales where top-heavy XIs come up short against organised sides with more even spread of strength. But France, due to their star-power, recent world cup pedigree and sheer aesthetic appeal, had turned us into bewitched believers. But that did not last long. I have seen many comparing France’s attacking football to the Brazil side of early naughties but to me this France side was doing something more akin to a Brazil side from almost seven decades ago. In an era when winning the midfield battle is more prized than ever, France had the cheek to line-up in what essentially was a 4-2-4 system, like the Brazil side starring a teenager Pele in 1958. If France had won this tournament, that could have inspired some to play mouth-watering top-heavy line-ups in matches that matter in an era of micro-managing marginal gains and obsessive quantification.

The first semifinal was brimming with the possibilities of a result with tactical implications, while the second was brimming with possibilities of a result with great narrative significance. England and Argentina had been tactically rather uninteresting but both had managed to control short stretches where their intent and fire-power had led them to overcome their opponents. And that decided the match.

England’s game management after they went ahead has been closely dissected. While there are debates regarding whose fault it all has been, neither Tuchel nor his players covered themselves in glory in that period. If the first semifinal provided us with a blue-print of how to execute a pre-planned strategy, the second was all about managing evolving game-states.

Scaloni knew very well that his old and tired side can only perform at full intensity for about a third of the match and the cagey first half went on with numerous stoppages and little goal-mouth action.

The goal Argentina conceded early in the second half was very well taken but it ensured that Argentina will have to keep on attacking to avoid getting knocked out while for England it brought a dilemma about whether to go for a second or sit deep. England initially looked indecisive. They fashioned a few half-hearted attacks, but Argentina, with purpose and a sense of desperation, slowly started to assert their intensity. They managed to time it so well that people were left ridiculously arguing whether scoring at the 55th minute was too early.

It is easy to criticise a manager’s substitutions when his team has been defeated. Tuchel kept a tired Kane and Bellingham on for the whole match and never brought in a winger who could stretch the play or run at Argentines especially after Argentina had compromised their defensive organisation entirely to push forward.

England held strong for a considerable amount of time as they were being peppered with shots until they could not anymore. Such things can happen. Sadly for the England fans, a sense of deja vu will afflict them with memories from the Euro 2020 final, the 2018 World cup semifinal, 2002 World cup quarterfinal and so on. This would hurt not only because of the familiarity but also for the promise with which Tuchel was brought – to show some smart tactical nous that would avoid such familiar and gradually unfolding pitfalls.

The most outrageous failure of England was not being pegged back by the reigning champions but the fact that they could not hold on to possession and seemed to actively fear the prospect of having the ball. England’s lack of a tempo-dictating midfielder has been cited by many and Tuchel has talked about England’s footballing traditions being incompatible with ball-retention. The squad selection by Tuchel has attracted a fresh barrage of post-facto criticism. But to me, the most interesting thing about this is the return of a trope that I thought had run its course – equating ball possession with intent and ability.

The widely touted figure of England having 12% of the ball between Gordon’s opener and Lautaro’s winner looks bad, sure. But the fact that the possession stat is being wielded as a self-sufficient piece of embarrassment for England, as evidence of Tuchel’s apparent cowardice, as a cultural issue that English football cannot move past, is really interesting because I thought that we are a long way from the days in early to mid 2010s when the possession stat almost had a moral dimension attached to it. Proof of good football was found in the ability to keep as much of the ball as possible. In the more recent football discourse, possession is rarely discussed with the same air of being ultimate.

Both the semifinals brought the issue of ball possession to the forefront in very different ways. I doubt there will be much impact of such discussions on the tactical direction of top-level European club football. If some possession-obsessive doctrines come up as reactions to the contemporary tactical mainstream, I will not be surprised, but I don’t think the semi-finals of this World Cup will be a catalyst in that process. But such frenzied discussions on the issue of keeping the ball sure makes me nostalgic. At the end, that’s what World Cups are about.

Read more – Arsenal Face Major Injury Crisis and World Cup Fallout Ahead of Title Defence

Also see – Scaloni and De la Fuente: Parallel Journeys, Contrasting Footballing Identities

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