As Focus Shifts to Size, Demand for Dribbling Wanes
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.
It was the oddest of moments. Out of the blue, England’s West Ham United announced in August that they had signed two young Argentine stars, Carlos Tevez and Javier Mascherano.
It then got even odder. It turned out that a mysterious Iranian, Kia Joorabchian, was the man responsible for the arrival of the players. He represented a consortium of international financiers who wanted to take over the club. Despite the assurance of the club coach Alan Pardew that he welcomed the Argentines, it was widely believed that the move had been decided without his having any say in the matter.
Three months later, the deal has turned sour. Joorabchian is out of the picture, and West Ham has been taken over by a completely different group, this one headed by millionaire Icelandic businessman Eggert Magnusson. Plus this: As soon as the Argentines arrived, West Ham went into a tailspin, from which they are only now beginning to recover. Mascherano spends all his time on the West Ham bench (he has not played since October 22), while Tevez is in trouble with Pardew.
The reason for the Pardew-Tevez spat is hardly unusual. On Saturday, Tevez — even though he was having a good game — was yanked by Pardew in the 66th minute. Tevez departed the field to an ovation from the West Ham fans, but he was not a happy man. He left the stadium immediately after the game, which Pardew called disrespectful. Tevez will be fined, no doubt.
End of incident? Well, I,for one, hope not. Because Tevez, struggling to adapt to the English Premier League, has shone some much needed light on the future direction of the sport, not only in England, but worldwide.
Consider, for a start, Pardew’s comments on the disputed substitution. West Ham had just lost one of its taller defenders to injury. Height was needed to protect its 1–0 lead, said Pardew. So off came the 5-foot-7-inch Tevez, on came the 6-foot Teddy Sheringham. Logical? Not quite — for Sheringham, ironically, is not a defender but a forward. Yet it was for his height on defense that was summoned. As it happened, that was not needed, and West Ham closed the game with a 1–0 win.
There have been plenty of indications that this is the way the sport is going. Jurgen Klinsmann, one of the favorites to be America’s next coach, was hailed as the savior of German soccer when he rebuilt the German World Cup team by bringing in a number of new young players. What went apparently unnoticed was that he was also bringing in tall players. The average height of his starting 11 in the opening game of the World Cup was 6-feet.
Chelsea coach Jose Mourinho continued the theme last week, blaming a lack of tall players for his team’s 0–1 loss to Werder Bremen in the European Champions League: “They have four or five players around 1.98m [6 foot 6] tall, and we have only two or three players strong enough in the air to cope with it.” Bremen’s winning goal came from a set play — a corner kick headed in by Per Mertesacker, a 6-foot-6 defender.
Is soccer to become a game where the scoring comes from huge defenders heading goals from set plays? There was a repeat performance for Chelsea on Sunday, but this time it was Mourinho’s turn to praise height. Chelsea’s tying goal against Manchester United came — wouldn’t you know? — when 6-foot defender Ricardo Carvalho out jumped United’s 5-foot-10 Gabriel Heinze to head in a corner kick.
So it’s difficult to argue against Pardew’s logic in seeking a tall substitute. The problem — a huge one for the sport — is this: How long will it be before height becomes the dominant factor in selecting and training players?
For Pardew, height was the crucial factor, more important than Tevez’s skill on the ground, his darting quickness and his dangerous dribbling. The end result of that attitude can only mean that a coach would always take a good tall player over a good short one. Meaning that the days of the short player are numbered.
As it happens, Tevez had already foreshadowed the problem in an interview on Argentine radio last week in which he gave his impressions of life in the EPL: “English soccer is very physical and you have to be very quick. …Iknewit would be different but not this much. . ..There aren’t any small defenders, they’re all big.”
But his key comment was this: “You don’t see much dribbling here, you only get one touch otherwise they eat your legs.”
In its early days, back in the late 19th century, soccer was often referred to as “the dribbling game.” Dribbling was seen as the very essence of the game, its distinguishing feature. It was also, and has remained, the most exciting and the most personal of soccer’s skills.
Dribbling is the handwriting of soccer. Each player does it with his own style, with his own flourishes and curlicues. It represents a fine blending of athleticism, soccer skill, and artistry. It is the one element of the game that relies on unpredictability and individuality.
And dribbling, by and large, belongs to the smaller players — to Stanley Matthews, to Garrincha, to Pelé, to George Best, and to the likes of Carlos Tevez. But those two words — “unpredictability and individuality” — tell you why it is in trouble.
The modern coach — the tactical genius who controls everything from the sideline (including, of course, the substitutions) — is suspicious of unpredictable and individualistic players. Such players are likely not to obey tactical instructions (which, it must be noted, usually involve defensive duties), they might even be considered “selfish” — a favorite slur among coaches, invariably applied to dribblers — when they are required, above all else, to be teamplayers.
If dribblers are no longer wanted in the game, that is another strike against the small player. And if dribblers are to be squeezed — maybe “bludgeoned” is the better word — out of the game, then soccer will be much the poorer for their absence.
The trend toward size and physicality could be countered by alterations in the rules, by making life more difficult for those big defenders whose only answer to dribbling skill is to knock the dribbler down, and by reducing the amount of aerial play. But, so far, FIFA has shown no interest in facing up to the problem, never mind making any rule changes.