Blatter’s FIFA ban comes as vindication for Luis Suárez’s mistreatment

   Back in the years of the trials against World War II criminals, the German-born Jewish thinker Hannah Arendt used to point out that due punishment was central to satisfying the victims’ claims for justice. Not only was it essential in terms of reparation and rule of law, due punishment also gave the punishing authority legitimacy in the eyes of those concerned: it’s as much an act against impunity as it’s a defense of the rights of the victims. She wrote:

[I]n view of the current confusion in legal circles about the meaning and usefulness of punishment, I was glad that the judgment quoted Grotius, who, for his part, citing an older author, explained that punishment is necessary "to defend the honor or the authority of him who was hurt by the offence so that the failure to punish may not cause his degradation."

Up until his arrival to FC Barcelona, Luis Suárez had been a test to rivals, referees, pundits, officials and pretty much all of us when it came to our notions of how much punishment is due and fair for a constant and seemingly unrepentant offender. The English FA had the Uruguayan striker banned for months of competition after finding he had used the Spanish word “negro” against Patrice Evra. A season or so later, the same body banned him again for biting Branislav Ivanovic during a set-piece in which the Chelsea man had been holding and pulling Suárez. Despite the fact that both verbal abuse and violent conduct are offenses which should be prosecuted by the referee as they occur (by booking or sending off), in neither episode was Suárez shown a red card. Instead, he was retrospectively prosecuted and punished.

Suárez’s misdeeds would have remained in the Premier League annals had it not been for another episode of biting in the vital match between Italy and Uruguay in the 2014 World Cup. The Ivanovic pattern was repeated now with Giorgio Chiellini: a set piece to be kicked, a defender holding a forward in the box, the forward gets alienated and finally bites his rival’s shoulder. The offense, again, went unnoticed by the referee despite the Italian desperately showing him the teeth-marks over his skin. Uruguay thus could kick Italy out of the competition with eleven men when the interests of justice were to have the South Americans trailing with just ten players. As the images went viral immediately, and pundits and fans were inflamed and bloodthirsty for “an exemplary punishment”, FIFA applied law retrospectively and handed out Suárez a lengthy ban that is going to be completed only in next February when Uruguay resumes World Cup qualifiers.

“An exemplary punishment” devised to learn Suárez a lesson he won’t forget, that FIFA ominous ban did little and nothing to prevent terrible aggressions from happening again. Due punishment must also be an instrument to inhibit misconducts on the field. And the case of Suárez sadly was and will be just one of witch-hunting when far worse infractions (like Arda Turan throwing his boot against a linesman, or Felipe Melo trying to behead Lucas Biglia with a karate kick) are prosecuted as “average” or aren’t prosecuted at all. Witch-hunting, the exact opposite of due punishment, undermines the legitimacy of the punishing authority and neglects calls for justice from those offended on a pitch. The many retrospective bans the Suárez disciplinary file may still accumulate over the years will not preclude the Turans or the Melos from offending again in the future.

Sepp Blatter, the acting president of FIFA when Suárez was punished, has now received an eight-year ban from soccer-related activities.  Ruling out the charge of corruption (to wit: that Blatter enriched himself using his post at FIFA), the Ethics Committee found him guilty of offering gifts to Michel Platini and of conflict of interest as the Swiss was unable to demonstrate that the 2 million Swiss francs payment to the UEFA suspended president had some legal basis. Without a more detailed, well-sustained and far-reaching verdict from the Ethics Committee, however, the impression is that FIFA built its probe against Blatter merely on the criminal investigations of the Swiss authorities and therefore this body is one more time witch-hunting rather than executing due punishment.

Blatter’s ban of course comes as vindication for Luis Suárez’s mistreatment. It tells us unequivocally that whoever uses the FIFA infernal political machine to witch-hunt is prone to being witch-hunted himself. Perhaps Suárez’s wishes for a fair treatment are now satisfied (in a quite narrow sense) when he sees an otherwise fat cat being given a ban similar to that which he still has. But the worst practices presided over by Blatter during his long tenure, vote-buying, suspicions of electoral fraud and forgery, were neither investigated nor punished by the Ethics Committee. And that’s truly a source of concern since the witch is now gone but witchcraft still is here.

Timbers' glory proves what MLS dearly needs

Land in the massive names from the European game to enlarge the fan base, make the league more profitable. Feed back the virtuous cycle. The 20th season of Major League Soccer began some months ago with those words as the compelling mantra everywhere: Kaka, David Villa, Andrea Pirlo, Giovani Dos Santos and Sebastian Giovinco -amongst others- were destined to be the absolute stars of this watershed year.

Instead, the show was stolen by unsung heroes such as Nat Borchers, Kei Kamara, Mauro Díaz or Sacha Kljestan. Both conference finals were devoid of those flamboyant signings, and yet, they were -for the first time perhaps- plenty of tactical features and astute game management that allowed for some moments of exciting uncertainty. Unlike the preceding season's MLS Cup final between LA Galaxy and New England Revolution in which both squads played similarly and produced a midfield gridlock that was only broken in extra time, the road to Columbus Crew versus Portland Timbers allowed for last-minute goals, penalty shootouts definitions, record-breaking early goals and chalkboard lessons on how to manage a lead.

That Galaxy-Revolution final was a good illustration of what MLS matches still are to a extent: players get into the pitch primarily focused on producing a lead and on avoiding concessions. Being concerned on that, nevertheless, many teams often neglect flux-of-play management considerations which are those that precisely allow to control the tempo: speed-up and slow-down, the ability to change the script. Playing the standardized formation with a four-men defensive line plus a holding midfield duo (either in a 4-4-2 or a 4-2-3-1), the typical MLS side would seat deep and soak pressure up by means of two banks of four as the only way to conserve a lead. Thus, matches like that Galaxy-Revolution final would become about individual brilliance more than anything else, and MLS would want to sign stars rather than build proper teams.

The Columbus Crew-Portland Timbers final proved opposite to its predecessor. The home side was clearly playing a well-drilled standard formation in which Kei Kamara benefitted from Greg Berhalter's focus on play through the channels in order to feed him as classic target man, while the away side opted for an unorthodox 4-3-3, ruthless at high-pressing. Although it was Crew the side that consistently took early leads launching long balls and winning aerial duels (against both Montreal Impact and NY Red Bulls), here the Timbers broke all the records by pressurizing the opposition's build-up play straight away from the initial whistle. After that -and just like against Vancouver Whitecaps- Portland set the tempo of the match and their lead was hardly disputed throughout.

The Timbers could execute their strategy of high pressure since the key feature of a 4-3-3 is the lone holding midfielder flanked by two shuttlers at either side. Diego Valeri and Darlington Nagbe were freer to motor forward because Diego Chará did a brilliant job closing passing lanes with pure positional awareness. That is, the Colombian man had to "read" when to move up so gaps weren't opened between the lines as the shuttlers went up in the field: had those "readings" been inaccurate or slow, Chará would have risked a bigger influence from Federico Higuaín and a possible Columbus comeback. These heatmaps suggest the entirely different approaches between the Crew holding midfield duo -Will Trapp and Tony Tchani- and Timbers' three men midfield. Note as well the number of touches (more men in midfield, more space covered, more dynamism, more midfield domination):



Chará is probably the best lone holding midfielder in MLS since the good days of Kyle Beckerman with Real Salt Like. His solid performances gave Caleb Porter a good argument for high pressure, harnessing on the work-rates of Valeri and Nagbe. None of these three midfielders, moreover, were landed in MLS as the superstars the mantra says are prerequisite to enlarge the fan base. Big names of course attract attention for a while, but team-building ensures competitiveness and sustainability. These playoffs have proved that it's teams and not individuals who get past rounds and lift trophies. Timbers' glory proves what MLS, now, dearly needs.

What is Miguel Layún's best flank on the pitch?

In view of the goal-scoring tally Miguel Layún had with Porto departing from the left towards his natural and strong right foot against Maccabi Tel Aviv and Vitoria Setubal, all talk about putting him back to the right flank seemed nonsense. Having him playing inverted, the argument says, adds an important offensive threat by enabling Layun to cut inside and try from long range or even reach goal-line, check back, and cross immediately: the Porto experience was doubtlessly demonstrating so.

Let us recall Layún's conversion from average right winger towards outstanding left wing-back for Club América. After a short-lived journey in Serie A with Atalanta, he returned to Mexico and endured personal tough times when people tweeted constantly #TodoesculpadeLayún (#BlameitallonLayun), until the arrival of Miguel Herrera. Herrera had brought solid Adrián Aldrete to play left wing-back for main league competition while handing to Layún the Copa Mx minutes. Playing the cup, Layún managed to score screamers outside the box departing from the left and also learned slowly to use his left foot to launch more or less acceptable crosses. By the summer of 2013, Layún had claimed for himself Aldrete's starting spot and begun his assault on the national team for the World Cup.

Layún's offensive contribution from the left in Brazil 2014 was nonetheless poor. His military discipline and endless energy helped Mexico to remain compact and cohesive versus top opposition at the biggest stage, but it was all about defending. A good explanation of the rise of Layún is that he was in fact part of a global trend of inverted wingers and inverted full-backs. Attacking wingers drifting inside not only enabled them to find space and reach for target with their strong natural foot, it also enabled the full-backs to make overlapping runs and add unpredictability, penetration and width (a classic example of this was pre-Guardiola Bayern Munich: Robben would cut towards his left foot from the right flank while Lahm would surge and cross with his natural right foot). Hence, a tactical development to counter inverted attacking wingers was to place inverted full-backs as well, able to deal with dribblers with their strong foot (Spanish right-footed full-back César Azpilicueta claiming Ashley Cole's starting spot on the left for Chelsea remains a great antecedent for this Layún-esque development). In this light, the deployment of Layún on the left flank of the full-back spot was always a defensive resource against stronger sides which sometimes -and only sometimes- went offensive against weaker ones.

It took the challenge of an old-school right-footed winger to test Layún's defending on the left for Champions League level. Dynamo Kyiv's victory in Do Dragão was as much about undoing Porto in the middle as about exposing full-backs Maxi Pereira and Layún in the channels. While Pereira dealt with Paraguayan inverted winger Derlis González, the Mexican man dealt with Ukrainian Andriy Yarmolenko. Barring the penalty kick that Yarmolenko himself scored, his continuous runs towards goal-line on his right foot produced the best chances in the first half that made the away side fully deserving of their lead. Layún was powerless.

For the second half, the Porto boss Julen Lopetegui took Pereira (number 2) off, moved Layún (number 21 encircled in yellow) to the right, and placed central defender Bruno Martins Indi (number 3) to the left full-back spot in order to deal with Yarmolenko. Lopetegui's improvisation did not work either since Derlis González found even more space between Danilo and Layún to increase Dynamo's lead to 2-0 (graphic taken from UEFA's full-time tactical lineups).

What is thus Miguel Layún's best flank on the pitch? He has proven such a versatile, functional and fast-learning footballer that the actual answer is: it depends. It depends on whether his team plays with possession or plays at the counterattack, on whether he should overlap upfront or should stay tight at the back, whether he faces inverted wingers or natural ones. Noteworthy is also the fact that Layún himself playing for Watford was placed advanced on the field by Quique Sánchez-Flores in the inverted winger spot; there, Layún cut inside while left natural full-back José Holebas overlapped. The goal he scored against Everton at Goodison Park in the first match of the Premier League demonstrated so: it added an offensive threat without compromising defensive cohesion.

Layún is truly a man for all seasons. Not only does his football accept questions of left or right, but also questions of defense and attack, width and depth.

Honduras 0-2 México: Osorio outfoxes Pinto

  Call it lackluster and dull, but every analysis of the Mexico victory in Honduras should take into account the astute tactician seated in the other bench. By the implementation of strategies and tactics which appeared counterintuitive, Jorge Luis Pinto outfoxed all of his peers between 2013 and 2014 at the helm of Costa Rica. One good example of this was his use of a three-men defensive line: the tactical textbook says a third central defender becomes redundant when playing against a lone striker formation and thus becomes one player less in midfield.

Well, during the World Cup the man stuck to his plan and his success even forced Italy and Uruguay to play Pinto's tactics facing each other to claim the last berth to the last 16 after Costa Rica's early qualification. A recall of that match's tactics by Michael Cox might help us at understanding why El Tri's show in San Pedro Sula made a great deal of Mexican fans fall asleep:

You can’t judge any match purely – or even primarily by formations alone. But if there’s one formation match-up that should be avoided at all costs, it might be 3-5-2 against 3-5-2. It tends to produce slow, frustrating matches with neither side capable of finding space in the opposition half – both sides have a spare man at the back, the wing-backs run up and down the line with one another all game so there’s no outlet on the flanks, and the midfields tend to cancel each other out.

In other words Mexico and Honduras were playing the same formations. Those might have been 3-5-2 against 3-5-2 making the boredom Cox notes, or 3-4-3 against 3-4-3 (evidence suggests this latter was the precise case here), but the fundamentals remain the same: it was a squad matching up another squad on a football field and vice versa. Miguel Layún knew he had to cover Emilio Izaguirre, Hugo Ayala knew he was there for Érick Andino, Héctor Moreno knew his man was Mario Martínez and so on. At times, both teams were actually man-marking instead of zonal-marking and that became fatally evident within the open angle that captured the whole pitch in the build-up towards Garrido's devastating knee injury:

Honduras playing with three center backs like Mexico, Oswaldo Alanís makes a decoy run on the left wing to lure Wilmer Crisanto on him and open space for Javier Aquino to pick the ball, Aquino does so and gets past his man-mark (Johnny Palacios); Crisanto suddenly realizes a central defender has get caught up in the field and runs frantically to tackle Aquino and stop him. Crisanto gets Aquino down and involuntarily injures his teammate. In the frame, one even can see Mexico and Honduras playing 2014 Costa Rica tactics: Javier Hernández is alone in front of three defenders like the Honduras nine, Rubilio Castillo, in front of three Mexicans.

Juan Carlos Osorio was clearly deploying attrition warfare against Jorge Luis Pinto. In a game of equal formations and man-marking, the side better prepared physically and with more individual quality usually beats the side less prepared and with less talent. Pinto, strategically speaking, used to beat bigger sides (Uruguay, England, Italy) harnessing on their need to get past a lesser side, but Osorio here outfoxed him harnessing on Honduras' need to get the three points after their loss to Canada.

  

In spite of Osorio appearing now as a boring and gray man in the eyes of many, his first away victory in Concacaf proves him a coach that does study his bench rivals no matter how humble the opposition might appear.

Argentina 1-1 Brazil: Dunga beats Martino

Such was the intense play that broke lines at peaks during the first clash between Argentina and Brazil for World Cup qualifiers, that one is left wondering whether the insipid countless friendlies that take South America's ultimate derby elsewhere across the globe taint the quintessence of the rivalry. In what is dramatically becoming the watermark of Gerardo Martino's tenure, Argentina indulged in its raw talent (even without Messi) producing vibrant counter-attacking football which must have created a bigger lead than 1-0, only to fade near to collapse when Dunga introduced Douglas Costa, Brazil equalized, and must have got the three points from Buenos Aires before David Luiz's red card.

Both managers used roughly the same formation, 4-2-3-1. Mystifyingly enough, Dunga resorted to Brasileirao names in key spots with mixed results: Santos FC's reborn Ricardo Oliveira and Lucas Lima were picked ahead of Costa himself and Oscar, thus meaning Neymar was deployed in the very same channel occupied by Ángel Di María. Barring some sparks from both, however, their contribution was rather scant in spite of the fact that having the two superstars on the same side of the field implies a gamble that was barely tested throughout. It was people like Willian, Dani Alves, Ever Banega or the Argentina central defenders -Funes Mori and Otamendi- who were most willing to ride their luck over the slippery turf.

A game of identical formations means identical duties and identical liberties. The full-backs (Alves, Filipe Luis, Roncaglia and Rojo) should cover the wingers (Willian, Neymar, Di María and Lavezzi) and the wingers should track back the full-backs. For this case, the free men were located in the holding midfield and in that number ten spot behind the lone striker. That is, the nominally free in either side were Lucas Lima and Éver Banega; the dominance of Argentina in the first stages of the match is thus explained by Banega's ample expertise over young and still untested Lucas Lima. While this latter made way more passes than the former, the bulk of his passes were backwards as the Sevilla FC man dropped deep and launched incisive through-balls to the front. Argentina's goal came after Banega cleared the ball from deep towards Di María forcing Luiz Gustavo out of the center and opening space for Lavezzi's run.

Lima, on the other hand, remained as isolated as Ricardo Oliveira upfront and this appeared explicitly instructed by Dunga, for this "immobility" was the key factor for Brazil's equalizer when Lima caught a rebound from the bar following a Costa's header inside the Argentine box. Had Lima dropped deep like Banega the whole match, he wouldn't have been fresh enough to be in the right place at the right time. The Canarinha rallied back and Neymar got activated attempting target twice within Argentine chaos. In that moment, Dunga subbed Lima off for Renato Augusto and modified from 4-2-3-1 to the 4-3-3 Corinthians normally use (with the same shuttlers: Elias and Augusto) in order to slow down the tempo and control the midfield.

Martino perhaps realized that he had awaited far too much for refreshing his side when he made a late double substitution (Paulo Dybala and Erick Lamela on for Higuaín and Banega). Having too little time to introduce a new tactical plan, the only two sources of hope for Argentina to get the first victory were set-pieces and David Luiz being sent-off for reckless tackles. Although this was a fair draw, Dunga departs reinforced from Buenos Aires and Martino is now more weakened than ever. 

The Argentine boss now heads to Colombia in a match that promises deep emotions and dire consequences for hosts and guests.

The amazing proliferation of playmakers in MLS

The one and only feature that shocked most during the first-leg clash between Seattle Sounders and FC Dallas was the presence of a clear-cut pattern in almost every goal threat. Whether it was Mauro Diaz spraying accurate through balls towards the channels worked by the Colombian speedy pair of Michael Barrios and Fabián Castillo -even unlocking Seattle's defense towards David Texeira-, or Andreas Ivanschitz getting past Cirigliano for the home side's eventual equalizer, the evidence is conclusive: traditional number tens surprisingly thrive in Major League Soccer.

Long thought as an obsolete interpretation of the position -mostly in Europe-, the old-school playmaker, enganche or trequartista, as it's called in Argentina and Italy, for all of his technical virtue, guile and flair, demands constant movement and pace by his forwards, shuttlers and full-backs. This player became endangered in the European game since it usually implies the deployment of two strikers that, by themselves, should provide the attacking width: which is fine in offensive phases, but becomes problematic at defending against wide formations such as, say, standard 4-4-2. Thus, classic tens like Francesco Totti or Luka Modric found place either as "false nines" (that is, an strikerless formation for possession-oriented sides), or as holding midfielders (deeper, they face less pressure, the argument goes).

Part of the above point also applies to our case-study playmakers: Diaz and Ivanschitz. In the first case, the Argentine occupied the number ten role in a modern 4-2-3-1 that has become default formation everywhere insofar as the wingers - for this specific, Barrios and Castillo- are willing and disciplined to track back and form two banks of four that make life impossible for the opposition. The downside of this approach is that it puts a considerable work load on the wingers' legs, exhausts them and risks losing cohesion (which actually happened when Sounders staged the 2-1 comeback). During the first stages of the match, however, Mauro Diaz and the Colombians were stealing the show and FC Dallas should have taken a bigger lead. Ivanschitz, on the other hand, was placed by Sigi Schmid on the left wing in an otherwise crystal-clear 4-4-2. There, the Austrian charged towards the center making overloads and helping Seattle to retain possession (Dempsey and Martins provided width).

Ivanschitz's equalizer is most illustrative the way playmakers operate in MLS. The Austrian overloaded the midfield (three men from Sounders, holding midfielders plus Ivanschitz against Ulloa and Cirigliano from FC Dallas), received the ball, beat Cirigliano and -astonishingly- found oceans of empty space in the spot that should have been covered by Jamaica full-back JV Watson. Ivanschitz pulled the trigger and netted home past Jesse González. What Ivanschitz did with his interior movement, tactically speaking, is a gamble: invites his full-back to make overlapping runs but entices Watson to do the same and leave a massive void in FC Dallas' defense. Sometimes it works, sometimes it backfires.

                                                

The underlying reason for the proliferation of old-fashioned playmakers is that MLS full-backs more often than not get caught too up in the pitch. Reading a piece on Borussia Dortmund's new boss Thomas Tuchel (who had Ivanschitz at Mainz in Bundesliga), one discovers that his predilection for playmakers (now he uses Shinji Kagawa) actually lies in the German trend of pressing relentlessly the opposition build-up play: the number ten harries the holding midfielder to force him to lose possession and produce an instant goal opportunity. An alternative to counter this kind of pressing is using a three-men defensive line that transforms full-backs into wing-backs and covers for their overlapping runs. It's fair to say that it's matter of time to the number ten's proliferation in MLS to provoke tactical developments similar to other leagues everywhere else.

Until we reach that point, nonetheless, virtuous playmakers like Michael Bradley or Nacho Piatti too will remain a huge attractive for a league that, for now, resembles something of a lost paradise.

Uruguay 3-0 Colombia: Tabárez's solutions, Pékerman's troubles

 The decision-making of Óscar Tabárez and Néstor Pékerman in Uruguay and Colombia can't be more dissimilar now: the former copes with the absence of his world class Cavani-Suárez striker partnership due to suspension, while the latter enjoys such a deep pool of talent in quest for a way to fit it all within the same squad. The Montevideo clash showed a Uruguay of no glare, but cohesive and ruthless, and a Colombia of glare, but too imbalanced and fragile.

Although the Colombia boss didn't have James Rodríguez, he used instead decent playmaker Edwin Cardona from the start and later in the second half introduced another ball-playing midfielder in MacNelly Torres without subbing Cardona. Indeed, the use of Freddy Guarín shuttling to the right of holding midfielder Carlos Sánchez was reminiscent of the midfield diamond used by Roberto Mancini at Internazionale with Guarín in the very same role. Juan Guillermo Cuadrado, however, began the match wide on the left wing flanking Cardona and thus it was an unorthodox (and tipped) formation. Cuadrado's spot on the left, being right-footed himself, raised controversy amongst Colombian twitters, but Colombia's underperformance first and foremost was about tactical imbalance and just then about individual performances.

                                             

The image that heads this story is eloquent: whereas left full-back Frank Fabra is well protected by Cuadrado's tracking back, right full-back Santiago Arias is alone in front of oceans of space with no winger to double protect his channel. It only took some audacity by Uruguay's full-back Álvaro Pereira (as Martín Cáceres was early replaced through injury) to gain the bottom line and cross or provoke set pieces. All in all, Pékerman was justified to deploy two numbers nine - Bacca and Teo- with a complete platoon of creative players behind them as long as he surely expected Uruguay to seat deep with two banks of four and soak pressure up with 0-0 still on the score. Colombia's tactical imbalance became an issue when Uruguay took the lead via a Godín power header and thus Colombia had to chase the match. The home side sat deeper and exploited the wings yet again for the successive goals as Carlos Sánchez and Guarín were clearly outnumbered at covering the the pitch to the right. Teo should have tracked back, but he's proven great at running horizontally, not vertically.

The new troubles of Pékerman with Colombia seem rooted in his persistence on playing the whole offensive arsenal at expense of balance and width. The Copa América elimination to Argentina a few months ago was a similar match to this one in Montevideo: Pékerman fields a lone holding midfielder -that time it was Alexander Mejía- who clearly gets outnumbered by default formations such as 4-4-2 or 4-2-3-1/4-3-3. Against Argentina, his squad bled in the center of the pitch; with Uruguay, it bled over the flanks (see heatmap).

                             

The old solutions of Tabárez with Uruguay, as usual, seem rooted in the boss's recognitions of where Uruguay as a team has world class talent and where it has just decent players. It's noteworthy, however, that both Suárez and Cavani were absent and anyway the block remained cohesive and well organized. One is even tempted to say that, had Uruguay played a strikerless formation of 4-4-0,  they anyway would have relied on set pieces to score and on their two banks of four to maintain their lead and alienate the opposition. Formation and strategy permit the return of both strikers with the minimal previous work allowed by international football.

The Montevideo match between Uruguay and Colombia gives credence to South American qualifiers' reputation as the toughest of all. For they demand quick solutions and punish dearly those who get into tactical troubles.

The tactics of Juan Carlos Osorio

British journalist Carl Worswick has it at the Guardian pages that Juan Carlos Osorio used to prowl and spy Gerard Houllier's Liverpool during his stay at Britain completing a university degree. Osorio had managed to rent a room in a flat neighboring the club's training facilities and would wake up early to watch and take notes for almost two years. His English days -the Man City spell in particular- would make of him such a meticulous trainer concerned with keeping his players fresh and healthy by rotating his lineups systematically. "I would die for the opportunity to one day manage there."  

Come the chance to take the Mexico job, the name of Osorio says far too little for several Mexican players and commentators who have been as quick to confess they knew nothing on him as to openly attack his signing. In order to know tactically speaking who is Osorio,  his 'British' upbringing tells just as much as his 'Colombian' stride, being runner-up to Marcelo Gallardo's River Plate, both in Copa Sudamericana and Libertadores.

Is Osorio a staunch pragmatist tailored in the fashion of the early Premier League in which 4-4-2 was the golden standard, speed and quality the only variables, and results all that were to be sought for? or is he a progressive Latin American ideologist who likes his squads to attack constantly through a possession style?

The actual answer is that he rotates himself between the pragmatist and the ideologist. The semifinal victory with his Atlético Nacional against Brazilian giants Sao Paulo FC for Copa Sudamericana got locked into a midfield battle in both legs and thus had to be decided in penalty kicks (which then was remarkable as the Paulistas counted with better individuals). The two-legged final against River Plate was a battle equally deaf and gridlocked in midfield only decided through the Argentine ruthlessness in set pieces. In that respect, Juan Carlos Osorio is a cold calculator who understands that direct elimination stages demand organization and physicality: if you can't beat the opposition straight away, then remain competitive and wear them out in the middle of the pitch, not in your own box.

The group stage of the last Copa Libertadores, however, enabled Osorio to deploy his side in full capacity at playing enthralling, vibrant football. There was this match in Medellín against Ecuadorean Barcelona de Guayaquil in which Osorio fielded a three-man defensive line and -instead of flanking it with wing-backs who theoretically have primary defensive duties- flanked it with attacking wingers pushed so high up as to widen the pitch and jail rivals in their own box: a de facto 3-3-4 hardly seen in any Premier League side. Atlético Nacional aesthetically executed their high-speed combination game, but, truth be told, got exposed by the Ecuadorean wingers who needed little to wreck havoc and the score hence ended in a 2-3 defeat for Atlético Nacional. For the next match, in La Plata against an Estudiantes side which also used a three-man defensive line, Osorio went pragmatic with a conservative formation that scrapped and had the vital three points from Argentina. That's Osorio: able to fathom all possibilities.

There's also a feature that might make Osorio a Latin American romantic: his reliance on enganches or old-school playmakers. From Edwin Cardona, Sherman Cárdenas and Yulián Mejía at Atlético Nacional to Paulo Henrique Ganso at Sao Paulo FC, Osorio likes that one kind of player not seen at all in the Premier League who dismantles a packed defense (like the ones Mexico will face for World Cup qualifiers) either with a through-ball or a long-range shot. Will Osorio find a Mexican able to play enganche in a possession-oriented squad?

The tactics of Osorio are so complex that they do escape the reach of traditional Mexican football punditry insofar as this is a man who rotates between the European and Latin American diverse schools of play. His rotations and experiments will certainly cause unconformity, but, all in all, this seems a coach flexible enough as to understand the difference between strategies needed for elimination stages, group stages, and scenarios posed by a Concacaf hex: the very same hex where counterattacking and conservative Mexican coaches have proven short of flexibility.

Osorio's signing is already testing how flexible (or inflexible) Mexican football is.

Are Chivas and Club America that different beyond Vergara?

In the midst of the endless scandals, resentful remarks, lies and sackings which permanently surround Chivas more or less since Jorge Vergara got married and divorced, Club America could be pictured as totally different simply by opposition. Two Liga MX titles, one Concacaf Champions League, no relegation troubles and the likes of Diego Reyes, Miguel Layún and Raúl Jiménez departing for good to Europe after completing successful cycles in Coapa. América, the brightest of sunrays; Guadalajara, the darkest of shadows.

The board headed by Ricardo Peláez (who as a striker played for both classic rivals in the nineties), however, has never been exempt of Vergara-esque controversy.  While Miguel Herrera was given up to two short tournaments of tolerance in order to build his summer of 2013 side of champions, the succeeding two America managers - Antonio Mohamed and Gustavo Matosas- were given scarce months to deliver or go away.

Just in the fashion of Florentino Pérez's Real Madrid, Peláez began talks with Matosas a year ago to replace Mohamed while El Turco was on the path for glory. Right after America finished that title's celebrations, Matosas was announced. Managing a team reinforced specifically at request of his predecessor, the Uruguayan struggled in the domestic competition but anyway achieved the berth to the Club World Cup in which the Mexican champions will face Barcelona next December. Matosas had made his own number of requests to Peláez after being painfully eliminated by Pachuca... and the America chairman politely refused them, showing Matosas the exit door.

Then, what's precisely that which differentiates the recent trajectories of Chivas and Club America? Both clubs are no models of public relations, calm, diplomacy and crisis management when things don't come their way, yet both have fared so radically different that a simple look at the relegation table tells the whole story. One could well argue that Chivas' sole reliance on Mexican talent makes them victims of a global trend of which America benefits by playing with seven or eight footballers not born in Mexico ("the team of the Americas", yelled Carlos Reinoso). That might be a legitimate claim, but nonetheless that's one claim played systematically by Jorge Vergara at trying to excuse his own poor work ethics.

Poor work ethics is of course a quintessential lubricant within the system in the Mexican league. No club is exempt, not even America. But perhaps Vergara has raised the standards of poor work ethics to new levels not known in other Liga MX clubs. Somehow, it's telling enough that Major League Soccer had to acquire the Chivas USA franchise after bad results, a shrinking fanbase, and discrimination-related scandals.  

When Vergara took over in 2002, his phrases were heard as flamboyant, audacious, exuberant and politically incorrect -which many believed a good thing to rejuvenate Mexico's top flight-. Now instead, many question Vergara's ability to handle such an important club and there are some who even question his wholesale ability to run the business which allowed him to purchase Chivas in the very first place. Are Chivas and Club America that different beyond Vergara? Not much, but Vergara is certainly an edge enough as to battle for relegation.

Sacking Klinsmann now? the case of Tabárez's Uruguay

 US Soccer always differentiated from the rest of the hemispheric national teams in terms of the durability of its technical staff. Unlike Mexico, Brazil or Argentina, sides which have had half dozens, if not complete ones, of managers throughout the past decade, the USMNT can boast to have had only Arena, Bradley and JK in charge. Path dependence is certainly a good thing from a managerial point of view in football as the staff and its leadership are given time to learn by doing, change, develop and improve.

During the nineties, old-guard world beaters Uruguay were enmeshed into mediocrity, anarchy and absolute failure at trying to qualify to any of that decade's World Cups (if Italy 1990, to which they did qualify, is taken as one from the eighties). Coaches came and went to no avail: La Celeste's exodus far from World Cups lasted 12 years until qualification happened just to endure a group-stage exit in Korea and Japan 2002 to Denmark and Senegal. After that, Uruguay's FA didn't seem to change that much and the unsuccessful path to Germany 2006 was divided between the tenures of Juan Ramón Carrasco and Jorge Fossati.

Following the loss to Australia in penalty kicks in Sidney for the WC continental playoff, Fossati remained but soon he got sacked in favor of Óscar Washington El Maestro Tabárez, whose first challenge in the national job was the 2007 edition of Copa América. There, Uruguay gained momentum and fell short to reaching that tournament's final when Dunga's Brazil beat them... in penalty kicks. As Conmebol's deadly qualifiers loomed for South Africa 2010, Tabárez began introducing young talents like Palermo's Edinson Cavani and Ajax's Luis Suárez. La Celeste finished fifth and sealed its qualification dramatically against a Costa Rican side that just needed one away goal in the continental playoff second leg in Montevideo. Anyway, Tabárez's guys made it to South Africa and the rest is well-known history.

What few see beyond the diehard style and ruthlessness of contemporary Uruguay is that Tabárez actually took the whole shop apart. El Maestro isn't only in charge of the senior squad, but also of the grassroots levels within an integrated and vertical structure of scouting, applied technology and communication with the coaches of the under-age national teams. For all of its old glory, Uruguay was almost nonexistent in junior competitions and following 2007 they can mention more than decent participations in u20 and u17 World Cups: 2007 in Canada, 2011 in Mexico, 2013 in Turkey. The durability of Tabárez's second tenure is certain to generate the path dependence and positive feedback much needed at infusing new generations with the best of the old national identities and styles of play to look forward into future.

The lesson for US Soccer is that no matter what happens in the October 10 showdown against Mexico for the ticket to the 2017 Confederations Cup, Klinsmann must remain in charge. The two successive WC qualifications of Tabárez's Uruguay were possible too with massive doses of good luck: both achieved through continental playoffs, the berth to Brazil 2014 just clinched in the Conmebol's fifth place spot as the host country was already qualified. In the almost ten years since Tabárez took over the national job, Uruguay also suffered an ignominious early exit in the 2012 London Olympics and, at the end of the day, the Uruguayan FA stuck tight with El Maestro.

Sacking Klinsmann and bringing in a new coach perhaps could provoke a rush of blood to the squad that might yield good results on a temporary basis. Those good results, however, are to be expected irrespective of the coach as the only competitive matches coming in the horizon are Concacaf WC qualifiers. Sacking Klinsmann now would equate to having sacked Tabárez after any of the many bad results Uruguay got in its respective paths to the 2010 and 2014 World Cups. If that little country's case has some thing to offer to the enormous US Soccer, that some thing is that path dependence and durability in football are good things.

MLS's underperformance in CCL shows lack of middle class

   With a starting eleven plenty of the young and inexperienced, Seattle Sounders' loss to Olimpia in Honduras shows that clubs from MLS still lack an adequate middle class to serve as cushion between the high-profile signings and the youth ranks. That middle class turns to be most compulsory if the MLS really wants to get out of its domestic bubble and poise a real threat to the Liga Mx hegemony in Concacaf.

"A Real Madrid (consisting) of Zidanes and Pavones", was the old saying during Florentino Pérez's first administration a decade ago in precise reference to that absent middle class within Madrid's squad that could come to solve the many problems of playing La Liga and Champions League simultaneously. Real Madrid lacked that: either they had the stellar likes of Zidane, Figo, Ronaldo and Beckham, or the mundane likes of Albert Celades, Francisco Pavón, Raúl Bravo or Javier Portillo. With no middle class of highly competitive and somewhat lower-profile footballers, Madrid got prematurely eliminated in several Champions League editions to clubs with such names as Marcelo Zalayeta, Juninho Pernambucano, Alberto Aquilani and Alexander Hleb.

At this stage the MLS resembles the first Real Madrid of Florentino Pérez a lot. Galaxy provides a good example: either they have the Dos Santos and the Gerrards, or the Zardes and the Villarreals. The Homegrown Player Rule -which allows MLS clubs to offer better contracts than otherwise to two designated grassroots players- indeed fosters the development of more mature and experienced members of the squad; just two HGP berths are, however, indeed too few as to build an ample and robust middle class. The case of the Panamá goalkeeper Jaime Penedo illustrates what may be considered poor management by Galaxy's decision-makers: competitive, a keeper for all seasons, way cheaper in terms of salary, and nonetheless permitted to leave for good. What are the prospects for Galaxy in this CCL with no middle class?

Traditionally, the middle class isn't developed patiently, but rather bought and brought from somewhere else. At the closing of MLS's last transfer window about a month ago, Argentina retained its top spot as the biggest purveyor of foreign talent with 26 players surpassing the 22 coming from the UK. Barring such names as Red Bulls' Gonzalo Verón and Portland Timbers' Lucas Melano, the lion's share of that Argentine bulk doesn't occupy designated places which means that they could be part of a MLS early middle class. Moreover, some Argentines who are designated players are so just nominally as they earn much, much less than others. They are Nacho Piatti ($400,000), Cristian Maidana ($217,250) or Matías Laba ($325,000), to name a few.

Middle-class players aren't patiently looked after to grow up because their function is rather to make room for the development of the promising minors: they are the already mature and experienced that can go to Honduras and play Olimpia along some youngsters and teach them the professionals' tricks in actual competitive conditions. Neither Francisco Pavón nor Javier Portillo developed properly at Real Madrid as -when playing- were charged with the massive responsibilities of wearing the Madrid badge. At the end, the policy of "Zidanes and Pavones" proved a total failure and the Spanish giant had to wait until Florentino Pérez's second tenure to lift a new Champions League trophy.

In the case of MLS, that same policy doesn't work when outside the MLS. Be it in Honduras, Costa Rica or Mexico, Concacaf now demands deeper and more experienced squads. Without that middle class, which is just beginning to form as Argentina keeps feeding the league, the MLS will certainly still struggle in the CCL.

The last all-in of La Volpe

   There's this short novel by Fyodor Dostoyevsky: The Gambler. In it, the Russian writer tells the story of a quite affluent old lady, Antonida Vasilevna, whose death is much awaited by some relatives who, while spending holidays in a German resort, casino including, need the resulting inheritance to repay gruesome debts. Vasilevna takes them by surprise showing up alive, claiming she will inherit nobody, and betting massive sums on risky numbers at the roulette. Before their frightened eyes, some bets surprisingly work and make her gain mountains of gold, some others don't and loses almost all; but finally she's certainly spending her very last days and also certainly making sure the vultures she has for relatives receive nothing.

 

The most repeated, and seemingly best, argument against a Ricardo Antonio La Volpe's return to El Tri is the one that says that he's basically a loser who has achieved nothing since his first spell nine years ago. The Argentine league title lost with his Boca Juniors side to Diego Simeone's Estudiantes, that mediocre Libertadores with Vélez Sarsfield, the unfulfilled promise of his Monterrey that Vucetich did fulfill with showers of silverware, the short spell in Costa Rica and the legal battle against the Chivas board to defend his dignity. If La Volpe had once gained mountains of praise as a reputed and meticulous coach, goes this argument, he has just lost almost all since 2006 gambling recklessly.

The above argument's biggest flaw, however, is that, while on the surface it appears to be punishing La Volpe for wining nothing, within the interior it rather punishes him for daring to try; for daring to raise the stakes.

Perhaps out of a sense of adventure and self-actualization, La Volpe went to train in Argentina in the knowledge that the Argentine first division is a true no man's land for outsiders and recently for insiders too. South American flagship managers like maestro Óscar Tabárez and Francisco Maturana failed miserably with Boca and Colón respectively. After the glow of his first years, Simeone fell out of favor with Argentine clubs and went onto exile to Italian minions Catania just before taking up Atlético de Madrid. Last year, great old glories like Carlos Bianchi and Ramón Diaz were also kicked out ruthlessly. La Volpe didn't have success there, yes, but then how many did?

When La Volpe took the Costa Rica job, many thought he would take back Los Ticos to a World Cup after the elimination of 2010. La Volpe did have a bleak 2011 Gold Cup and days later led an under-age side to Argentina for Copa América. In that same year, La Volpe announced his resignation following a row with officials. "We lost our time with La Volpe" regretted then Costa Rica Federation president, Eduardo Li, who is now jailed in Switzerland on charges of criminal conspiracy and money laundering in FIFAgate. With Costa Rica, the Argentine-born Mexican-made coach did a risky gamble by dealing with obscure officials maybe out of a wish to keep training and prove different things outside Mexico.

La Volpe needed not trying things abroad as he could either settle down into the comfortable revolving door of Liga Mx coaches or into the safe haven of a television studio.  Instead, he went overseas and, in spite of wining nothing, gave Mauro Boselli his first chances in Argentina's first division at Boca Juniors and also gave Joel Campbell the starting spot in the 2011 Copa América that made him fly to Europe.  It's true that La Volpe briefly worked for ESPN, but soon afterwards he dared to the riskiest and most dangerous bet in the Mexican league: the Chivas job. Indeed, before thinking that, by accepting Jaguares, he has already got into the Liga Mx's revolving door, one must see this acceptance as a statement of purpose and survival after both Jorge Vergara and Angélica Fuentes.

In the long nine years in which La Volpe has ventured to make uncommon bets, the football's roulette has doubtlessly not been any generous to him. In such a scenario, it's just natural some call him a wholesale loser who should retire now, and others see an example of tenacity and love for his job even at expense of risking his own reputation. What everyone, nevertheless, must see in La Volpe is a coach with the guts to gamble. At the end of the day, far more conservative coaches like Chepo or Piojo fared worse at El Tri and on-paper safe foreign bets like Sven Eriksson ended up backfiring.

Make no mistake: if allowed, Ricardo Antonio La Volpe is courageous and experienced enough to make yet another gamble. To put that last and great all-in.

La importancia del Athletic Club

No soy vasco, pero desde el 2011 comenzó mi simpatía por el Athletic Club. Desde luego mucho de ello se debió al juego valiente de esa primera temporada de Bielsa en Bilbao, aunque del club siempre me fascinó su capacidad casi milagrosa de hallar goles y goleadores en tiempos en que pareciera indispensable el gran fichaje para traerlos. Primero fue el Ismael Urzaiz de comienzos del nuevo milenio; después, el Fernando Llorente del gol cabeceado en Old Trafford y ahora este Aritz Aduriz de los cuatro al Barça. Quizá alguna vez falte portero; otras, medio campo, o acaso en algunas defensa. Pero gol, siempre. Y mucho para un club tan aferrado a sus convicciones al que tanto se le pronosticó que los tiempos modernos se lo devorarían cual leones como si leones fueran los tiempos y no los futbolistas de Lezama y San Mamés.

La importancia del Athletic consiste en contestar los dos grandes postulados del fútbol de hoy que son también axiomas de la vida, porque en el fútbol, como en cualquier otra actividad más o menos lúdica y más o menos trivial, proyectamos quiénes somos y quiénes aspiramos a ser. El primer axioma está implícito arriba y tiene qué ver con el poder que hemos otorgado al dinero; el segundo, con el valor que en cambio despojamos al esfuerzo y a la voluntad.

Durante un año di clases en secundaria y preparatoria encontrándome cada martes y miércoles con apariciones masivas de camisetas de clubes de élite europea entre las que predominaron siempre por acá y por allá, arriba y abajo, a diestra y siniestra, en chicas y en chicos, las de los dos grandes de España. El verano en que el uno ganó la Champions y el otro la perdió dio pie, al uno para el beneplácito sin cuartel y al otro para el gasto sin frenos. Y viceversa al verano siguiente. De algún modo, tal vorágine entrega un mensaje perverso al oído joven precisamente por lo voraginoso de su discurso: la derrota que se vuelve fracaso que se vuelve crisis que se vuelve tragedia que se soluciona gastando, trayendo caros a los nuevos y echando a la calle viejos a los culpados. Con el Athletic eso no puede ocurrir: falla un pase San José, suelta un centro Iraizoz, la cintura de Balenziaga es castigada por un regate imposible de Messi, la pelota pasa entre las piernas de De Marcos ya que el caño fue de Cristiano, el marcador acaba abultado... y el Athletic sigue siendo el Athletic. Los jugadores maduros y lentos se quedan, los jóvenes e inexpertos suben y se les unen.  Mientras todos corran y no paren de correr para atacar y defender, todos juegan. Si el gran fichaje pudiese hacerse ¿qué caso tendría de cualquier modo? ¿es que los problemas graves de la gente común en la vida cotidiana se resuelven como por arte de magia echándoles dinero encima?

Si viendo camisetas por los pasillos de una escuela me di cuenta de la importancia del Athletic como contestatario al poder que dimos al dinero, jugando fútbol con los colegas caí en la cuenta que el Athletic reivindica el valor que nosotros injustamente despojamos al esfuerzo y a la voluntad. Las demasiadas repeticiones y encuadres cerrados y acercamientos a la jugada fantasiosa, al golpeo magistral, al firulete y a la celebración pletórica en éxtasis esconden lo que el galáctico y la pulga dejan de hacer cuando no tienen el balón. La toma panorámica del campo de juego -la más aburrida para el televidente que ve hormiguitas y aborrecida por el director de cámaras que busca constante el vértigo y el melodrama- es no obstante la que captura la esencia toda del fútbol y de paso señala al egoísta, al apático, al pecho-frío y al holgazán. Expulsada la toma panorámica, son las cámaras arácnidas, las súper-lentas y las de detrás de las porterías y de los tiros de esquina las que engendran esa moral bizarra que castiga el error producido por intentar hacer las cosas y deja impunes las negligencias. La más grande de todas, jugar caminando. Se intenta el regate: bien si sale; si no, a regresar al galope. Caminando nunca. Aduriz, serás muy Aduriz, goleador y estrella, pero los córners en contra los bajas a defender, la salida de los centrales rivales debes presionarla e irás por arriba a competir todos los pelotazos hasta más no poder. Y Aduriz lo hace, porque si no ellos pierden, por eso Aduriz es híbrido de caudillo y rematador. Daniel Pasarella y Gabriel Batistuta al mismo tiempo.

En la vieja tradición de estirpe ganadora del Athletic, sus aficionados juegan la parte que les corresponde haciendo pesar San Mamés y son recompensados con la salida de la gabarra cuando el club alcanza títulos. Los 31 años de sequía y las tristezas -especialmente ésa de la final europea perdida contra el Atlético de Madrid en Bucarest con Bielsa en la banca- harían pensar en una afición impaciente hasta la desesperación por sacar la gabarra y festejar sea como sea sin mayor deliberación en el éxtasis pletórico y el beneplácito sin cuartel de aquéllos que verano con verano deben echarse a la celebración o hundirse en la vorágine. Sin embargo, el Athletic jugó la Supercopa sin ser campeón de nada y esto es sabido por los bilbaínos. La jugó por mera burocracia y absurdo protocolo a pesar de ganarla ya sobre el césped con margen y autoridad. La idea, de un gran número de los seguidores, es no sacar la gabarra para preservar el espíritu de una celebración mítica que hace décadas correspondió a títulos ligueros y a torneos de copa conquistados jornada tras jornada, eliminatoria tras eliminatoria, auténtica y no protocolariamente. Pese a osar el debut en el cuadro titular a futbolistas venidos de la tercera y segunda división como Merino y Eraso frente al Goliat blaugrana de Europa, lo del Athletic fue sólo la consecución de un acto de justicia deportiva que dejó para su afición el acto de heroísmo puro al abstenerse de sacar la gabarra y aguardar paciente a lo bueno por venir.

Contestados los postulados modernos del poder dado al dinero y despojado al esfuerzo y a la voluntad, el Athletic también contesta y refuta un tercer postulado sobre la impaciencia, la incapacidad de perseverar y esperar. Durante esos días como profesor, mucho recibí en términos de burla y/o compasión -siempre desde la gentileza y el cariño de mis entonces alumnos- por simpatizar con el Athletic en momentos de vacas flacas esperando a las vacas gordas. En esos mismos días también dejé en claro que en mis clases no habría lugar para soluciones mágicas ni para la pereza o la apatía y que si querían pasar el semestre tendrían que poner manos a la obra. Porque dentro del salón, y también sobre el césped, siempre intenté proyectar mi simpatía por el Athletic Club y la importancia de lo que éste representa.

Wanchope: Costa Rica's self-destruction

   Paulo César Wanchope's resignation from managing the Costa Rica national team following his street-fighting in Panamá is but the last episode in that side's saga of tragic self-destruction.

Saliently enough, the most common remarks made by Costa Ricans immediately after the last World Cup's feats against both Uruguay and Italy were recriminations to journalists and federation politicians back home. In those post-match interviews in Salvador da Bahia and Recife, the likes of Celso Borges and Yeltsin Tejeda did mention their own hard work and endless self-belief, but did so only after lambasting those who disbelieved and actually benefited personally from them. Jorge Luis Pinto, the Colombian coach now in Honduras, took every chance he had to speak by mouthfuls what now seems credible about then Costa Rican Federation president Eduardo Li.

Downplayed by the lengthy corruption records of Jack Warner, Jeffrey Webb and Chuch Blazer, the name of Eduardo Li has drawn proportionally little media attention perhaps as consequence of his name being quoted just 17 times within the pages of the US Department of Justice's indictment against nine FIFA officials (Warner's name appears 47 times; Blazer's, under the title of "Co Conspirator #1", 50 times). According to the Attorney General's Office, which charges Li with racketeering and wire-fraud conspiracies, the former president of the Costa Rican Federation had personally solicited for cash in exchange of the broadcasting rights of home World Cup qualifiers. Point number 202 of the indictment says: "During the negotiations, LI asked Co Conspirator #4 for a six-figure bribe in exchange for his agreement to award the contract to Traffic USA. After obtaining approval within Traffic, Co-Conspirator #4 agreed to the payment and caused it to be made." At the moment, Li remains on Swiss soil fighting extradition.

What should have been the triggering moment towards further greatness for a small Central-American nation became instead the beginning of political dogfights and footballing misery. Costa Ricans can legitimately argue that their national team's quarter-finals exit from the 2015 Gold Cup was due to poor, if not overtly bad intentioned, refereeing against Mexico with the award of that last minute penalty kick, but up to that game Costa Rica remained the gray shadow of the 2014 side: unable to defeat Canada, El Salvador and Jamaica. Involution.

Things to come within Costa Rica's near future equally appear full of gloom and doom. Los Ticos have been seeded in the qualifying Group of Death with likely rivals being Jamaica, Panama and Haiti. All three teams manifested bigger tactical cohesion and organization and will surely pose a serious threat to great, but now unmanaged, Costa Rican stars such as Keylor Navas, Joel Campbell, Giancarlo González, Bryan Ruiz and promising youngster David Ramírez. 

Perhaps the short, unknown -oblivious to matters of height and weight- guy who dare to punch and kick Wanchope comes as the perfect analogy of things to come for Costa Rica: any former minion will compete on the pitch against a now dispirited and disarrayed Costa Rica. Times in San José resemble less the face of Celso Borges after beating Italy and more the face of Eduardo Li behind bars in Zurich.

Is there a Marcelo Bielsa alchemy formula for El Tri?

 Reading the many accounts of Bielsa’s almost scientific methods from British and Spanish journalisms, one gets to think that the Argentine tactician is some sort of alchemist whose formula lifts the same virtues and plunges into the same flaws everywhere he goes. “Bielsa comes in, players first seem to struggle with his revolutionary ideas, then seem to understand them, the squad thus starts playing exhilarating football, fatigue comes and finally all falls into pieces”.

Managing a top-flight club at domestic and international competitions is of course quite different from managing a national team. The former implies daily on-pitch work and the latter implies more observation and paperwork: that’s why Louis van Gaal left the Dutch job to take the reins at Manchester United and that’s why Josep Guardiola seems reluctant to take a national side yet. They both feel energetic enough as to keep going to the training camp, make experiments and deal with pressure day in and day out. Bielsa, theoretically, is the perfect man for a national side and that’s why Mexico wants him.

But such thirst for Bielsa in the Mexican federation obeys the misleading stereotype of Bielsa as a coach with one proven formula that made miracles in Chile, Bilbao and Marseille. Under this light -and excusing the musical metaphor- hiring Bielsa equates to something of buying a Luis Miguel’s album: everyone knows every Luis Miguel album contains exactly the same in terms of great solo voices, love lyrics, ballad rhythms and Frank Sinatra remakes. Luis Miguel’s fans adore them precisely because they know the proven formula, know what to expect and anyway like it. But Bielsa’s tactics and methods are no formula and with him certainly we don’t know what to expect.

In 2007, Bielsa badly needed the Chile job to reinvigorate his career after the ominous passage of the 2002 World Cup with Argentina that couldn’t be entirely vindicated by the 2004 olympic gold medal. Harold Mayne-Nicholl’s Chilean Federation needed Bielsa and Bielsa needed Harold Mayne-Nicholl’s Chilean Federation. Bielsa then could work over the basis of Claudio Borghi’s Colo-Colo with youngsters such as Alexis Sánchez, Arturo Vidal, Claudio Bravo, Jorge Valdivia and Humberto Suazo. In the Basque country during the summer of 2011, Bielsa was part of Josu Urrutia’s presidential bid to Athletic de Bilbao and the first season the man from Rosario created the most courageous mid-table club across Europe beating United at Old Trafford and staging an epic match against Guardiola’s finest Barcelona in the old San Mamés. Unable to retain or line-up Athletic’s best players -Javi Martínez and Fernando Llorente- his squad began to fade into mediocrity. Seemingly, Olympique de Marseille was lured by the stereotype of the alchemist’s formula without signing Bielsa’s required footballers and without retaining the flagships of that first season: Payet, Ayew, Gignac and Imbula. Today Marseille is headless in the technical direction. Needless to say, the three teams played completely different tactics and strands of football through very different paths.

The Mexican federation, an organization well renowned by the shallowness and improvisation of its decision-making, seems, like Marseille, yet another board lured by the stereotype of the alchemist’s formula. Former Mexico boss Javier Aguirre declared that Bielsa called him to get to know the Japanese federation after being offered Aguirre’s former post in Tokyo. It’s also true that Saudi Arabia looked for Bielsa this summer and finally got World Cup runner-up Alejandro Sabella instead. For all of his ‘craziness’, Bielsa seems the first to be acquainted of the effect his stereotype exerts over headless boards. For El Tri fans now led into the Bielsa saga, unlike Luis Miguel fans, all is very uncertain and nobody actually knows what to expect.

River Plate 3-0 Tigres: to pounce and subdue

With a less expensive squad, fraught with injuries, suspensions and high-profile summer departures, River Plate took Tigres to a war of attrition -the previous three matches between them had ended all leveled- and finally broke the stalemate to prompt their rivals' collapse and collect their third Copa Libertadores. They did so basically by persisting in fielding two classic number nines, capitalizing the only one-on-one situation with the Tigres backline, and being clinical at set-pieces just as they were against Atlético Nacional in Copa Sudamericana six months ago.

For large spells of the first half -and considering the heavy rain- both teams didn't retain meaningful possession and the game became finals-like and dull: River couldn't because Ponzio and Kranevitter aren't gifted passers and Tigres weren't willing to because preferred counterattacking. In such a scenario the quick transition game of the Mexican side proved once again to be delivering when Funes Mori got attracted to Rafael Sobis and deflected poorly just for the Brazilian forward to make an equally poor reception and waste a clear chance. A few moments later, the Tigres right winger Jürgen Damm wreaked havoc in River's left flank only for André-Pierre Gignac to waste yet another chance for the visitors. For those very spells River Plate and Tigres became good reflections of their respective leagues: Liga Mx with play quicker and more incisive; Argentine First Division, more physical and strategic.

River netted the opener with an unexpected combination that goes against the locals' traditional flux of play: left full-back Leonel Vangioni took on Damm and crossed for Lucas Alario to head home between the Tigres center-back duo. As the above graphic shows, both Marcelo Gallardo and Ricardo Ferretti lined-up similar formations that appeared to cancel each other out as every field player had a direct cover reference. When Vangioni got past Damm, he suddenly enjoyed good time and space, but that successful challenge doesn't explain in itself why the Tigres four-man defensive line appeared so static. That has to do with Gallardo's persistence on fielding two classic number nines.

After Alario's goal, Mexican media claimed that the Argentine striker should have been sent off for two reckless tackles on Mexican full-back Jorge Torres Nilo and on goalkeeper Nahuel Guzmán. Alario's nasty maneuvers, however, were done over each one of Tigres' flanks: on the right corner first and on the left corner later, hence illustrating Alario's mobility and coordination with his attacking partner Fernando Cavenaghi. For River's first goal, the latter pulled wide to attract Juninho's cover and to open space for the former's header in a one-on-one situation against José Rivas. Credit should be given to Marcelo Gallardo who persisted in his system despite the fact of having neither Teo Gutiérrez nor Rodrigo Mora. 

The second goal was simply a sloppy tackle from Javier Aquino to his cover reference Carlos Sánchez, and the Uruguayan himself converted the resulting penalty kick. The third goal was pure Gallardo's River insofar as El Muñeco introduced Leonardo Pisculichi -whose left foot is well renowned after assisting for the goals of the Copa Sudamericana final- to curl in a corner kick for Ramiro Funes Mori to head home. It's truly noteworthy how River's goals against Atlético Nacional resemble the last one against Tigres and it makes one wonder whether Gallardo would have relied only on Pisculichi's magnificent set-pieces to maintain his side cohesive had the match gone towards extra time.

    

The attrition war proposed by River worked out as the Argentines brought the Mexicans onto a field of physicality and strategy. Tigres, nevertheless, did enjoy good chances when they managed to exploit their pace at counterattacks: incisiveness and clinical finishing is what they missed. River had both of them and thus we can fairly say that they pounced and subdued their expensive rivals to get continental silverware.

The MLS is what Giovani Dos Santos makes of it

  Barring the Miguel Herrera scandal, the biggest concern for Mexican media in Giovani Dos Santos's first presser as Galaxy player was the likelihood of a slump in form as consequence of landing in the MLS. Having plied his trade for a decent Spanish club the last two seasons, the argument goes, Gio's play would now dip and jeopardize his hitherto regular call-ups for El Tri. "I just don't see how playing here would affect my international caps", said the eldest of the Dos Santos brothers.

Indeed, much of the MLS-equal-to-a-step-behind-for-Giovani reasoning is rooted within what might be called football's realpolitik: the politics of reality in football. Are Sevilla, Valencia or Villarreal better squads than Galaxy? Yes, therefore: the MLS represents one step behind for the Mexican forward. Is Real Madrid better than Stoke City or West Ham? Yes, therefore: Chicharito must be loaned without further discussion to Madrid (no matter how scarce the odds are for regular play). Football's realpolitik framed the debate in Mexico between supporters and skeptics of Chicharito's move last season and, in perspective, we can conclude that going into a big club in a big league is no straight synonym of big news and great things for every player.

Instead, clubs and leagues are what players make of them. As little as a year ago, many of the MLS's new high-profile signings well into their thirties were regulars at Champions League or Premier League clubs. Those players were able to extend their careers for years amongst the finest of the European game first and foremost because they're great professionals who placed their talents over the basis of constancy, consistency and hard work. After all, a move to MLS should be analyzed through case-by-case optics.

"Yes, Pirlo and company are great professionals who -like Robbie Keane already does- will surely put up their best for their new clubs, but nonetheless they're old players who, implicitly if not explicitly, are done with international football, unlike younger Gio Dos Santos", a good rebuttal may be. In such a case, Giovani's MLS career would be better compared to those of American players who, like Giovani, plied their trade at decent European clubs with mixed fortunes before being lured by lucrative contracts and starting spots. Clint Dempsey was a Premier League regular for Fulham and achieved glorious things while in London like his goal against Juventus in 2010 and the one against United at Old Trafford for Tottenham; Michael Bradley was a regular too for Borussia Monchengladbach in the Bundesliga and later Rudi García gave him good minutes when in Rome; Jozy Altidore, on the other hand, netted constantly in the Eredivisie but his stay in Sunderland was a failure. Case-by-case optics.

Mexican media and punditry will do well if for once they avoid using football's realpolitik at assessing a move between clubs and leagues. Much bland speaking was used a year ago from those cheering the Javier Hernández loan to Real Madrid to lambast and mock those skeptical about it. In any case, the MLS career of Gio Dos Santos will in all likelihood resemble the European career of Gio Dos Santos: moments of flare and sublime inspiration, and long spells of inconsistency and injury. The MLS will be what Gio makes of it.

Tigres 0-0 River: Gallardo may retreat back (even more)

Key to River Plate's successful continental stride so far under Marcelo Gallardo have been the full-backs Leonel Vangioni and Gabriel Mercado. When Gallardo deployed a diamond in midfield with traditional playmaker Pisculichi and the squad became thus too narrow, both defenders thoroughly maintained their positions and formed a defensive line of four centre-backs that gave much solidity behind. That's why River gets ultra-competitive in finals and that's why they got a draw in Monterrey against Tigres that leaves all to be decided in Buenos Aires next week.

Gallardo, a traditional number ten himself as a player, got rid of his trademark diamond in favor of a more pragmatic 4-4-2 with no playmaker ahead of this Libertadores's first leg against Boca Juniors. The wingers, Uruguayans Carlos Sánchez and Tabaré Viudez, work their flanks so Mercado and Vangioni are scarcely exposed to the rival's full-backs and Matías Kranevitter brilliantly guards the front of his defense while Leo Ponzio harries whoever gets the ball. In front, Teo Gutiérrez used to drop and work the channels to provide the width lost by the cautiousness of Mercado and Vangioni. Recently signed forward Lucas Alario is completely different: the strategy with Rodrigo Mora against Tigres yesterday focused in making life difficult to Guido Pizarro, Tigres' holding midfielder.

As a result of harassing Pizarro and pushing him deep between the Tigres centre-backs, the Liga Mx side's game-building became a bit nervous and prone to making mistakes under pressure. Soon before Hugo Ayala was subbed off due to injury in the first half, he and Juninho got entangled with the ball, Nahuel Guzmán forced to sweep behind them, and Ayala knocked over by his own goalkeeper. In some ways Gallardo was astute enough to identify the key players in Tigres' tactical backbone (Pizarro, Rafael Sobis and André-Pierre Gignac) and isolate them with double covers. Maidana and Funes-Mori, River's central defenders, more often than not alienated and annoyed the Frenchman with harsh maneuvers; and Kranevitter negated Sobis any pocket of space between the lines with his positional awareness throwing him into Ponzio's custody. It's not strange then that Tigres boss Ricardo Ferretti instructed Sobis to exchange positions with Damián Álvarez in the left wing to form a 4-3-3 during the last minutes of the match when the locals got the best of a now shaky River Plate backline.

Despite the fact that Gallardo tells Vangioni and Mercado to keep position and be cohesive, River Plate get distressed when their opposition launches wingers and full-backs to attack high up the pitch. When faced with Edgardo Bauza's San Lorenzo at Recopa Sudamericana, full-backs Emmanuel Mas and Julio Buffarini showed that River bleeds at the outside. The best chances of Tigres came when right winger Jürgen Damm took on Vangioni: the first half promising cross that Sobis should have headered home, and the second half poor Vangioni tackle that left Damm alone in front of River's goalkeeper Marcelo Barovero. The flanks, the flanks, the flanks, appears to be the mantra for Ricardo Ferretti at Monumental de Núñez.

Gallardo may resort to promising young defender Emanuel Mammana to cover the absence of Mercado due to a second yellow card, but otherwise his side will be as expected from the Monterrey leg. Individually, Tigres seem a superior squad and pretty much well trained, but the Argentines should appeal at their crowds and Gallardo surely may retreat back (even more) to set his squad on 'finals mode'.