Game Management Or Wide-Eyed Determination
Adjusting to the environment
The weather was closing in. The purplest grey horizon, like some kind of celestial anxiety, looming in our direction as the tendrils of winter began looping across the land. The dog and I traversed down a ravine toward the lake where a stand of towering birch trees had gathered. As the wind picked up and one lofty birch began swaying, I noticed the narrow wrist where its mighty girth had been and I marvelled at these ghost-like beavers that I’d never actually seen. Not for want of waiting and watching.
The dog began drinking from the lake and I whistled and climbed away from the waterline where the beavers had intended the fall. The dog left the water and came to my side and we dropped to the ground and quietly scanned the lake for a sign of these vandal architects. Only the descending pitch of an Osprey, like a cooling kettle, to keep us company.
I contemplated the things we do not see. Those things that are always forming and forging and shaping the world in our absence. And I considered how the vital magic that happens off-stage, in the wings, behind the curtain, is as crucial as the hullabaloo we deem as life. When we got back I wrote this. Enjoy.
Whenever I see Thierry Henry speak about the genius of Wenger he looks as thrilled as a starstruck fan. Henry’s glory years were played out under the tutelage of the great French football connoisseur, but there was something more than mere nostalgia to his tender enrapture. When Henry explains Wenger’s methods it’s like he’s revealing a mystery known only to himself and the initiated, the precious and privileged few. And he is.
During his playing days Henry had once been complaining to Wenger that Freddie Ljungberg didn’t pass him the ball often enough, or at crucial moments in the game. “But can he see you Thierry?” Wenger had asked in return, with that half amused, half stoical expression he so often wore. Wenger went on, “Don’t ask yourself the wrong question, Thierry”, and Henry was left to consider his dilemma.
Wenger’s enigmatic remark encouraged Henry to reconsider his team-mates, their strengths and their skill set’s. He weighed their various talents in his mind and began to formulate a new question. Instead of being annoyed with inability to align with him, he asked himself what he could do to align with them. Where one player preferred a short one-two, or another had the capability to launch a direct cross-pitch long ball, Henry would have to adjust his own game. When Ljungberg was running full tilt, head over the ball as he dribbled, Henry would have to cross his line of sight to be sure to be seen and offer an outlet. Henry began to adjust his runs according to who had the ball (except, of course, with Bergkamp who could find Thierry on the dark side of the moon with a no-look back pass).
One of Henry’s many brilliances was his acceptance that whilst he was a majestic player adorned with the skills of a footballing genius, he was also one component in a bigger picture. He saw that the celebrated idea of isolated and atomised individuals was but a myth. He saw that the team was an ongoing suite of movements and adjustments, like an ever evolving pattern of which he was but one piece. He realised that although we live in a time of the feted individual, the really “big players, truly world-class players are willing to do whatever needs to be done to win”, including putting the ego to one side and deferring to the skills or needs of others.
Of course, by doing this Henry became an even better player. By dethroning his own ego, he strengthened the entire kingdom. By raising his line of sight he expanded the whole horizon. He began to more easily find the spaces and places that complemented the skills of his team mates. His new understanding increased his positional acumen and made himself, and Arsenal, a more dangerous opponent. In last week’s article I quoted Albert Camus: “After many years in which the world has afforded me many experiences, what I know most surely in the long run about morality and obligations, I owe to football”. This must surely be true of Henry as well. Wasn’t that enigmatic comment from Wenger really a lesson in social and communal principles and ethical conduct? Wasn’t Wenger hinting that being only concerned with oneself and one own interests weakens both the individual and the team?
Yes, there are the Henry’s and Messi’s and Zidane’s and M’Beppe’s and Bellingham’s of this world. And yes, they are painted as superhuman with one eye on the prize and the other in the mirror, deserving of riches and accolades above and beyond the reach of the rest of the world. But that is to misunderstand the true nature of human relationships and team dynamics. Or, as Wenger might have put it, it’s to reach the wrong answer to asking oneself the wrong question.
I began to think about all of this when I was contemplating Arteta’s ingenuity this season. Much like Henry did all those years ago, Arteta is adjusting Arsenal’s playing style to the requirements of the environment in which the team finds itself. Last season’s eruption of festivity was a helter-skelter of emotions and excitement. After a couple of decades of being also-rans with the occasional flowering but mostly wilting moments, Arsenal found their groove under Arteta and ignited an explosion of love and beauty on and off the pitch. Sufficed to say that Reece Nelson’s Bournemouth moment encapsulated last season perfectly: Dogged, hard-working, free-flowing, skilful football that had you white-knuckling through each and every game until the last explosive moment. Superb addictive stuff. But like most addictive substances, unsustainable in the long run.
Arteta and his team took a look around, and, as Henry did all those years ago, decided we need to adopt our game to the circumstances in which we found ourselves. We can’t burst into every game like a bull calf in a rage. We needed to take a breath sometimes and control situations. The (mostly) derogatory comments about Arsenal being too emotional had their kernel of truth. Our young team did need, like a rookie comedian, to deliver their lines with a little more maturity. We didn’t need a new script, just bettertiming, sorry, I mean better timing ;)
To scale back the fan heartbeat from speed core dance floor to comfortable jogging, and to control games like an experienced headliner, instead of a talented open-mike wannabe, Arsenal are developing a policy of opponent-specific mature game management. As dull as it often was, it was precisely because of this mature game management that we beat Man City for the first time since dinosaurs walked upon the Earth.
The Match
It’s funny with life. You almost never get what you expect. The best nights out can be spontaneous happenings and the dullest can be long-awaited special events. There seems to be no rhyme or reason behind what sparks a flame and what extinguishes it.
At Stamford Bridge, a game I had been looking forward to, our first-half heartbeat was practically undetectable. We took an eternity to get out of bed, drowsily tossing and turning like a moody teenager after a night on the speed core dance floor. After literally years of watching Drogba pile-drive the ball past us and suffering the low-key despondency of underdogishness, it was time to remind Chelsea of the new reality in the never-ending Kings Of London competition. Instead we couldn’t give them the ball back fast enough.
Ok, yes, we were ridiculously undermined by yet another display of utterly incompetent reffing (talking of mature game management, maybe it’s time for the PGMOL to pack their bags and offer some other organisation a chance?). From the penalty decision to refusing to card any of Saka’s attackers, to not giving corners and free-kicks, the ref caused yet another credulity-shake as hands (not including Saliba’s) were thrown up around the world. But even considering his mind-boggling display, this wasn’t the ref’s fault. Arsenal just weren’t at the races.
But last season’s passion is real. The never-say-die attitude is real. Rice’s Beckhamesque first-timer was real. And Leandro “Carzola’s lovechild” Trossard’s ability to take advantage of wormholes in the fabric of spacetime and pop-up anywhere is real. Yep, back to the drawing board Physics, Trossard has broken your so-called theories! After what I can only imagine was a hurricane-level hairdryer of a ticking off at half-time we came out reminded of the fact that there’s more to games than management. There’s also pure wide-eyed single-minded determination as well. And it was this that got us the draw.
As this game showed, being certain of anything in football is about as likely as a blurry Sasquatch video. But just like Big Foot aficionados we just can’t stop believing our next outing will prove all our dreams are real.
So there you go fellow Gunner’s, I hope you’ve enjoyed this first AW in the subscription model. Don’t forget that this Friday (the 27th) I’m launching Jonathan Foster’s The Crow, so click on the subscription button and join a new reading community. Have a great week and let’s hope tonight’s game against Seville is exactly what we expect!
COYG