The Practical Guide to Actually Understanding Positional Play

The transcendent and undoubtedly most difficult challenge of any football player is to know where to be.

Attacking, defending, transitions, what have you–the primary question any player invariably asks themselves on the pitch is one of positioning. Not the commonly taught “how can I score” or “how can I prevent the opponent from scoring” but something far more fundamental: “how can I add value to my side, and where must I be in order to achieve that?”

Every instant of every match, a game in which the surroundings are eternally locked in motion, we must somehow interpret what’s around us to calculate our next step. The more consistently and accurately we’re able to answer that question, the better soldier we result in being, and the closer we carry our team to victory. Positioning is a problem that must be perpetually answered.

A Note About References

Now, in order to begin to solve this, we must first define a reference. No point can carry significance without an origin, something constant and empirical that grounds us in reality. The sun stays put while the planets revolve around it. How can we give “positioning” meaning?

Thus, before answering “where one ought to be”, our imaginary individual may ask, in return, “in reference to what?” The field? The ball? Their teammates? The opposition? The ref? What do we use to define that?

…and the answer is a little unclear. As youths, many players intuitively use the ball as the item that provides positional context, but as players grow older, they become increasingly aware of new elements, like their relations with the teammates, opponent, and so forth.

As good problem-solvers would, we’ll refrain from brainstorming too much, though, before we set everything out on the table. Let that question ruminate, for now, but don’t tackle it yet. What positioning anchor is “best”? What clues should we use to answer our positioning question? How can we avoid being overwhelmed by too much information? Let that simmer while we continue to dissect. We’ll come back to this at the very end.

The Tragedy of the Collective

As we ponder the peripheral details surrounding individual positioning, football proceeds to remind us that it is hardly an individual sport. Teams further complicate things.

A single player nobly poses the question of individual positioning, and seeks to answer it, because they can only genuinely control their own actions. Those of their teammates aren’t exactly up to them. In order to win as a group, we must have faith that everyone can perform the “right” thing, in sync, which is undoubtedly a challenge. Asking the question is a vital step in the right direction, but we, on our own, can only be a part of that larger success.

Despite the incessant comparisons, football isn’t chess, a game in which pieces are moved by one dictating presence. It is one in which each piece has a mind of its own. For our single player looking to maximize their effectiveness within the greater system, optimal interpretation and execution can often only do so much if that of their neighbors lacks in comparison.

We try to answer this problem alone, within ourselves and within the confines of what our minds and bodies can control, yet the positioning dilemma is fundamentally something that must be solved by a cohort. Teams allow us to achieve more, with more, but the tragedy of the collective is that single-unit optimization can feel futile from a problem solving perspective. What determines the outcome of any given scenario is rarely the positioning of one component, but of those nearby, and by extension, those of the entire team. This problem of “positioning”, location with intent, thus takes on a much greater meaning.

Not only must we constantly evaluate where we go, but we must also recognize what we represent within the larger system. How does our movement impact those of our teammates? How do our individual positions affect the collective? How does our collective position affect the game?

And so, realistically, we’ve got a lot to process here! This is why, plainly, soccer is hard. Knowing where to be in any given scenario has an paralyzing degree of levels to it–so just how can we know?

Even more so, there are infinitely many situations and configurations any player might face in any given match. An unlimited number of problems to solve. How can anyone, even the most experienced of players, have viable answers to all of them?

Yet, reassuringly, there is a way. And this is why we’re all here. Let’s dive in.

We Stop Seeking Solutions

In theory, the best solution to this question is not a direct response to the curious player, but a methodology for all to use, simultaneously. When the problem is too specific and too granular on a discrete level, yet occurs for all 10 field players at once–and with massive implications–we need something that solves individual situations in tandem with one another, such that success can be achieved on the whole, via individualized directions.

.. so how the hell do you do that?

With unlimited problems, we stop seeking solutions, but an approach. A philosophy, perhaps.

All across the internet, I’m certain that you’ve heard the terms “positional play”, “juego de posicion”, or “JdP”. The idea, widely espoused but rarely fully understood, is a countercultural take on this very question.

Shrewdly, those seeking to crack this dilemma in the past have recognized our human shortcomings. Just moments ago, we lamented our inability to have answers to every question, a powerless feeling but a critical realization-hump to get over. It’s true. No matter how hard we study individual scenarios and their resultant resolutions, there will always be surprises in football.

Even if we know the answers to infinite problems, there will always be more.

Thus, what our predecessors sought to devise was a system, a problem-solving template, that allows us to take any given snapshot of the field and generate a spot that we should be in–a spot that everyone should be in. A tool and a system, rather than an answer key. That idea sounds pretty abstract, but it’s nothing more than a grid.

Yep, you heard that right. A grid.

5 Seconds of Calculus to Help (I Promise it Will)

If asked to define calculus in a few simple words–and bear with me, will you–I’d say it’s the art of understanding change and decomposing large problems into many small ones.

The former refers to the notion of a derivative, while the latter motions towards an integral. There you go, that’s a few years of mathematics education, synthesized. Disregarding derivatives, for now, JdP works a bit like integration.

We have a beautifully complex thing to behold–be it a field with ever-moving components or a curve’s governing equation–with no way to “understand it” unless we break it up into a ton of super tiny pieces. If we understand those bits, we can get the full picture. Just like a camera can’t have infinite resolution, and requires little pixels to make up a full image, the field is far too hard to understand without fragmenting it in some way; without understanding the field, we cannot assess location.

JdP proposes a solution.

By taking our standard pitch and overlaying unto it a translucent grid–think, projector paper from 1st grade–we can take something large and undefined, and divide it into more manageable parts. Obviously, such a method would lose utility and implementability if the “resolution” were too high, so our chunks are still pretty big and easy to remember. Yet, these portions go a long way in helping us understand positioning.

Take a look at one such popularized version of how this might look:

What’s important to recognize is that the JdP zones are highly interpretable. There’s no objectively right way to split the field up, though there are widely accepted designs. The one below is my personal preference, in which those middle 3 regions are split like the lateral ones. We’ll use this throughout the course of the article.

Now, alright, we’ve got a grid, but what does this all mean? How can this help tackle an individual problem, for everyone, at once? To start, we’ve gotta name everything.

Towards the edges of the field, we have the width, the channels, the flanks, the wings, or whatever else you wanna call them. Down the gut, we’ll just call this the center or middle. In between each of those 3 intuitive regions we have the lesser known halfspace, an intermediate zone that carries great significance.

Up and down the field, there is less of a focus on nomenclature. The closer to goal we get, the more advanced our positioning is–and I tend to use that to keep an emphasis on the horizontal specificity. It’s important to note that this grid is typically used in possession, meaning that the regions of particular interest are those inside or nearest the opponent’s half. We’ll discuss “the rules” of JdP later on, but in terms of naming things, “the advanced right halfspace” refers to the one we’re attacking.

By carving up the landscape, as shown, we’ll be better able to instruct where our players ought to be. Distinctly, we have a better grasp on what territory exists between the wide and central regions–and as we’ll soon come to find out, that’s quite the discovery.

Wait, Why Are They Shaped Like That?

Before carrying on, one immediate element of this grid that might arouse some questions is the uneven nature of each zone’s size. We typically think of a grid as something uniform, but this doesn’t exactly look that way. The width is wider than the 3 internal strips, and depending on your interpretation, the center can be wider than the halfspaces, too. Is this all random or is there something deliberate going on here?

Against the standard 442, one of football’s most common formational interpretations, this grid is conveniently designed to form vertices where each of the defenders, midfielders, and strikers nominally feature. Picture a mid-to-low block holding the 18 as the offside line–and we see something like this:

• 

• 

After effectively drawing a constellation between the various players, and extrapolating, we can pretty quickly notice how the space between each of them is represented by the JdP grid. The gap between the centerbacks is the center, the gaps between them and the fullbacks are the halfspaces, and the gaps between the fullbacks and sidelines are the width.

Gravity & The Beauty of Collapse

Now, as is pretty intuitive, if we were to attack this blue structure, we’d probably like to have our players on the ball, far from the individual defensive presences. The regions between each marker, shown below, are prime locations for that–far from the nodes of pressure.

It goes without saying that something about the positioning above looks better than that of the image below. We’d much rather pass to a player with space around them, than with a mark right next door. That makes sense. Our chances of passing into, receiving, and continuing the play are higher if no one is around to intercept.

But what’s below the surface, here, is the idea that not only does passing to low-pressure spots make it easier to retain possession, but it also pulls the opposition towards it. A ball that arrives far away from a defender whose responsibility it might be to cover that region of the field will invariably cause that DF to be dragged in its direction. Such is the idea of “magnetism” or “gravity”, an idea discussed in It all Starts with Hopping the Fence: How to Disrupt a 4-4-2 with a 3-2-5.

“This concept comes from the suggestion that players tend to have a gravitational effect on others, when taking up positions in close proximity to them. Decoy runs work because they suck a defender into a certain space to guard a presumable threat, yanking them out of position like a positive pole might do to a negatively charged one, and opening up true opportunity beyond them. A striker that hangs goalside of the defense and makes runs in behind will gradually unsettle the CBs, and incentivize a lower offside line so the CBs can better see his movement. As such, he’ll tug the opponent using his “gravitational pull”. If wingers have chalk on their boots, the opposing fullbacks will be hesitant to stay tucked inside, for fear that they’ll be too exposed in the channels. Thus, they too will be drawn into the width to cover. This is a fundamental idea that we can exploit across the board, especially when looking to maintain our numerical superiorities through build-up, and avoid the opposition from condensing our space too much. We use the notion of magnetism to draw the defense into certain regions, spreading them out, and granting us more room to work with.”

With this alluring effect objects of value and intrigue have on our enemies, we can refine our understanding of the benefits that “finding space” can have.

Yes, “less pressure” sounds great because it means we have a better chance of keeping the ball, but if we find these cavities inside the enemy structure, they can suddenly augment their localized defensive presence as they collapse inwards to stop the threat. That doesn’t sound nearly as optimal, since our space will now be suffocated. Right?

Yes and no. As the enemy moves to try to squash our progression with gusto, this typically takes the form of one of those defenders “stepping” to the ball, and effectively dragging their once-organized structure out of shape. That specific opportunity may have disappeared, but by forcing the defense to cover something they weren’t interested in covering before, we’ve now waved a magic wand and forced their positioning hand. We did something that made them do something else. If they didn’t, they’d be punished, but if they do, we’ll simply punish differently.

If we pass the ball to a yellow player in the halfspace, that subsequent reaction might look something like this:

Suddenly, we’re able to actually manipulate the opposition. And this is quite powerful.

Yes, we’ve been trying to figure out how to position ourselves, but now we’ve encountered a principle that lets us dictate where our enemy will actually go. If you find cracks in the defense, it means it’ll be harder for them to stop you, but it also means they’ll try harder to do so. Either you take the space and exploit it, or you reap the benefits of a team that tries to rapidly close down a weak point–invariably opening up others.

We haven’t even gotten into the famous JdP rules just yet, but we’ve already uncovered a foundational principle of positional play. The more we can put the ball inside internal gaps–or as it’s often colloquially referred to as “between the lines”–the more frequently we can achieve a near win-win outcome: keep threatening, against their will, or displace them, against their will.

Perceiving the “attraction of pressure” as a positive outcome is quite the counterintuitive paradigm shift. Especially for young players, this may be hard to instill. Perhaps the best way to explain the idea, besides expressing the value in “tangling the opponent’s structure”, is through practical gravity examples. So here are a few:

1. The CB steps hard on the 10 that receives in the halfspace. Yellow receives, has the shooting lane or direct path towards goal shut down–which may initially be perceived as negative. They proceed to re-route wide, while another yellow player observes the new hole in blue’s defense. This results in them darting near post for a glancing header. This zone wouldn’t been so available for such a play, had it not been for the pressure initially attracted by yellow in that internal cavity.

2. Playing into a pocket causes the fullback to pressure, quite unwisely, as the escape is then found in the channel for an on-running winger to penetrate in behind. The player may have been frustrated by the opening closing down, but gratification is delayed and a solution is discovered elsewhere. The new path is less direct, but opens up a handful of creative options, with greater proximity to goal.

3. The ballside blue 6 drops to pressure the yellow 10 from behind. The ball returns to the yellow 6 as they drive inwards, taking advantage of the newly-open land and now dragging the other blue 6 towards them to accommodate. The collapsing domino effect continues as the ball is passed on, again, with both blue 6s dragged to the side, while a once-farside yellow player combines with the striker to get in on goal.

Golden Halfspaces: Part 1, Territorial Uncertainty

Alright. We’ve now got our grid, we know why it’s shaped the way it is, and we understand the magnetic effect playing between the lines can have on an opponent trying to stay organized. So what’s all the fuss about the halfspace in general? Why does it carry “great significance”? Why did all our examples above coincidentally involve playing through it?

The first rationale is that the halfspaces are optimal zones in which our gravity mechanism can prey on the most opposition players. This region typically can tug on a central defender, fullback, central midfielder, wide midfielder, or even a backtracking attacking presence in some cases. You got to see that, a bit, in the 3 videos on display.

When we compare this to playing the ball wide, a spot where the concentration of pressure is invariably lesser, and cavities aren’t so internal to the opponent’s structure anymore, there are fewer defenders to magnetize against their will. This may be a safer option from the surface level understanding of holding onto the ball, as it’s less immediately risky, but the rewards to be reaped are lesser too. Even if a wide player is drawn outwards, the territory they depart in behind is worth comparatively less than a centerback pushing high to collapse a central void, leaving a gaping, high xG region behind.

Now, one might argue that the central zone could offer the same thing, with lots of players in possibly even higher density areas, and great potential for magnetic displacement, but there are a few distinguishing features of the halfspace that may make it even more appealing.

When we mention those susceptible to being yanked out of line, it is a unique thing for those involved in that tugging mechanism to bridge the gap between the traditionally central and traditionally wide players. At this point in time, in football, we rarely have “halfspace midfielders”, we have wide and central ones. The same goes for defense and even attack. There are usually 3 identity choices: left, right, and center. A halfspace pocket’s vertices typically includes 2 central players and 2 wide ones, meaning the marking decision that’s been created is not only a pain, like most, but in highly ambiguous territory that makes it even worse.

Touchline Theory has often touched upon the importance of forcing an opponent to make these marking decisions, a skill that inherently imposes discomfort while putting the defensive team’s communication and accountability skills to the test. These hand-off scenarios are prone to error, and a team that forces the other to make more of them over the course of a match will likely result in having the better chances. See an example outlining the overlap’s efficacy, through the lens of marking decisions, and even apart from generating superiorities:

To routinely resolve these scenarios, one key clue defenders will use is the rough territory the attacker occupies. If a wide attacker receives a ball between a defending wingback and dropping wide mid, that player’s vertical location may be a strong indication of whose onus it is to press first. But the horizontal choice is somewhat straightforward, and the two options are clear.

Yet, in the weird in-between territory that is the halfspace, that context is removed. Vertically, we might have the same clues, but now we’ve involved the centerback and center mid in our marking decision, too. Two of these players are supposed to be “central” while the others are supposed to be “wide”. Any movement away from their intended post will imply a transition towards the other; a central midfielder picking up a halfspace attacker will be moving wide, while a wide midfielder doing so sees them move centrally. So which one should do it? Which one will dive into the unknown?

If we compare this to the central case, everyone involved in that marking decision is a “central player” with “central player” duties and a “central player” identity. Any of them might be fine applying pressure since their “post” won’t have been left behind. Any of the 4 will still be pressing centrally. Horizontal ownership is clearest in the middle and out wide–but very much not so in the halfspace.

Thus, as Molde Academy Coach Eric Laurie summarized in a recent tweet, this positional in-between serves as this confusing region full of defensive uncertainty. That’s something that can prove highly valuable in possession. Horizontal marking apprehension is an excellent outcome for an attack that thrives on opposition mishaps. The less intuitive defending is, the harder it will become.

Utilizing the half-space in possession

•Similar passing options as central zone, but less congested
•Closer to goal then wing zones
•Able to switch point of attack
•Create uncertainty in opp. block
•Pull defenders out of central areas
•Can play in all directions

— Eric Laurie (@EricLaurie) June 11, 2021

Golden Halfspaces: Part 2, Field of Vision

Now let’s take another bullet from Eric’s list and dive deep on that too–the notion of playing in all directions, or more specifically, the benefits of viewing angle when distributing or attacking through the halfspace. Some areas of the field restrict what players can see and subsequently find. The halfspace is, likely, the closest thing we have to optimizing that optical perspective.

Below, I’ve assembled a synthesis of the available options for any player, on the ball, with a typical body orientation. It’s an expansion upon a brilliant René Marić exposé, from back in 2014, on the same general idea.

Each example–one in the center, halfspace, and width, each–has colored arrows that demonstrate the various options a player may have to advance the ball in that zone, and how many of each variety are available in each case.

Red represents vertical and horizontal passes (in reference to the field, not the player), which are fine on their own, but pale in comparison to the benefits we get via combining both into a diagonal–denoted in yellow. Here’s a reasonably eloquent description as to why that’s the case, from the same It all Starts with Hopping the Fence: How to Disrupt a 4-4-2 with a 3-2-5, mentioned earlier:

“Diagonal sequences like these are so terribly difficult to mark because they possess the advantages of both horizontal and vertical passes, woven into one. Passing sideways serves to shift the opposition and generate new angles for passing between them; playing the ball up and down the pitch allows us to advance through these gaps. A diagonal ball means the opponent must shift laterally, as well as deal with a dagger into their fort.”

Critically, the assumption is that a player’s peripheral vision and body shape will allow them to play balls within a radar extending 180° from their front, 90° to the left and 90° to the right.

To continue, green arrows display a shot on goal, while blue shows a dribbling path that will get the player closer to goal than where they are now.

Starting centrally, a player facing goal, here, will find that they have 3 horizontal or vertical options (1 of which is straight to goal and likely to be collected by a keeper), 2 diagonal through balls that be found into the box, 1 shot right ahead, and 1 direct dribbling option. This is a decent handful, but we can do better.

If we jump over to the width, the choices different, but our tallies look pretty similar. 3 orthogonal balls, 2 diagonal passes (1 of which is negative, but that works to maintain possession), the standard 1 shot (an option that, this time, is far and with very low xG), and now 2 dribbling runs that can get the ball closer to goal.

I must note that without data to back up the value of each of these options, it’s hard to distinguish between awarding both the central and wide options “1 point” for that green shooting arrow. Perhaps the central region deserves 3 points, but adding weights to each of these choices will introduce even further subjectivity into what’s already a high-level model, so we’ll just keep that all in mind, instead. The green arrow here is faint, at best.

When we evaluate our choices in the halfspace, there’s suddenly a bit of a leap in opportunity. Vertical and horizontal balls are reduced to 2, while diagonal balls, by virtue of the diagonal body positioning-shift, bump up to 3. Of these 3 options, 1 targets a ball into the box, another deep into the flank, and another to recycle play negatively–a lovely charcuterie board of choices. The only missing pass, back and completely away from goal, is seldom all that valuable. As for shooting, there’s a nice middle ground of xG feasibility with 1 arrow, while dribbling sees 2 options that can advance the ball closer to goal.

The distinctions are definitely nuanced, but an overarching theme is clear: the halfspace combines some of the best things from the conventional wide and central regions–and then some. The slanted field of view means we get more diagonal passing options to replace the rectangular ones, dribbling can threaten both diagonally or down into the box, and shots are in a region that’s quite comfortable for most creative players. Our range of choices combines plenty of forward-thinking moves with a handful of lateral switches, and even a pinch of regressive ones, too. The middle of the field leaves no backward choices, when facing goal, and the flank likely sacrifices too many to offer negativity in surplus. Here, we’re at a nice, attack-minded balance.

The halfspace is also advantageous in serving as a middle ground of space that is not visible to the on-ball player.

In the center, our shots may be most valuable, but our field of vision is highly restrictive in terms of the amount of pitch we don’t see within the 180° span. Defenders from all sorts of blindside zones can challenge from behind without our knowing, and that’s definitely a drawback.

Out wide, while we sacrificed some serious shot quality, the advantage is that the visual perspective captures the entire pitch. Backs to the sideline, no one can sneak up on us. It’s a valuable bonus.

But once again, the halfspace mediates between the two–and then some. Remember how the only “missing” halfspace diagonal ball was directly up and away from goal? That zone isn’t much of a threat, meaning that it’s also unlikely we’ll find it too heavily guarded. Without many blindside defenders coming in from that zone, the halfspace player is cleverly positioned to leave what little blindside they do have facing a typically defensively vacant area. Thus, sure, it’s a middle-ground, but the halfspace player leans much more in the direction of the winger in this criteria. Great options and little blind spots.

Or in other words, and as was phrased by Marić himself,

“At the same time, the amount of space he doesn’t see is smaller. Because the player is in the half-space and (usually) has a diagonal field of view towards the goal or to the open field, he has less distance from the sideline and is facing away from it. Thus, there is little danger that he will be pressed from behind or come under great pressure.”

René Marić, for Spielverlagerung

Golden Halfspaces: Part 3, Pieces, Not Pawns

Now, with great power comes great responsibility. These halfspaces have more options, certainly, but we need players that can actually take advantage of those choices. The environment may be optimized, but it’s now our job, as designers of the systems we wish to see, to place skillsets inside that correspond to the added degree of opportunity. You gotta be smart to thrive at Harvard.

What this all motions towards is the idea that we can make the most of the halfspaces by putting our best players in them. These talents will be able to take the wider array of selections and pick the right one with better accuracy, efficiency, and consistency. They’ll be better suited to deceive the defense too–miming the decision to take one opportunity–only to sharply execute another. These sleights of hand create added separation in the pivotal pockets and further augment our chances of success.

Adin Osmanbašić, in another thorough Spielverlagerung piece on Juego de Posición under Pep Guardiola, presents an exhaustive and hand-curated collection of positional play quotes. Some are directly referring to JdP, while others can be applied to the concept metaphorically. Of the latter, one from the tactical universe of chess stands out in particular when we discuss the halfspaces–these regions of defensive liability–and how to optimize them. Yes, I know I said earlier that chess has its differences with football, but it undoubtedly carries pertinent parallels, too–like this one:

Tarrasch, one of Germany’s preeminent chess players across the 19th and 20th centuries, appears to suggest that we must put kings in castles. Regardless of how “weak” we perceive a space to be, it means nothing if we don’t have someone of strength to conquer it.

In Adin’s own words:

“…meaning that your very best players should be the ones who are the men in between the lines. They are the ones who will most skillfully exploit the holes in the opponent’s defense as well as perform the most valuable actions for the team.”

Adin Osmanbašić, for Spielverlagerung

Beyond merely commenting on the benefits of “getting your 10s on the ball in the halfspace”, what this line of thought leads to is the optimization of systems, at large, in order to make this a direct goal.

You advance players wide to pin the opposition fullbacks, push a striker deep to pin the CBs– all to stretch the field? Sure. But more specifically, to pry open that halfspace. To make that pearl even more visible. We envision systems that can give our top players those top opportunities. For some, including that very Catalan mastermind the Spielverlagerung piece surrounds, it’s even become an obsession.

Golden Halfspaces: Part 4, Practical Examples

So now, with an understanding of why the halfspaces make things complicated for defenses, and quite ideal for the attacking side, let’s conclude our halfspace study with a revisitation of last year’s Barcelona vs. Osasuna, La Liga Matchday 37: A Fort and Stubborn Soldiers, in which these theoretical concepts were placed into more context.

Below, you can find a diagram showing a point-of-view example of a 10 charging at a defense in the halfspace. White defends in a 442, while red experiences the marking uncertainty we’d chatted about previously. Each of the three white arrow marking options is outlined in greater detail, further down.

Taking into account our 3 halfspace-favoring rationales, I’ve picked 3 marking “solutions” to our enforced lose-lose-lose marking decision and described how the subsequent play might unfold.

1. The centerback steps:

“The centerback steps up to press, closing down a shot and any further dribbling along a path direct to goal. This seems like the best approach, but the vacancy left in behind can also prove to be the most threatening if left unattended. As the CB commits, a shrewd striker will move into the space behind him, while most crafty 10s will manage to maneuver a through ball into that space. Some wingers may even recognize the pattern and dart in from the outside, cutting off the fullback. Sergio Ramos often steps to press creative players in these zones, and is usually quick to recover, but he has a tendency to get beat in behind after a quick layoff works its way around him.”

2. The fullback steps:

“The fullback steps in to press, hoping to avoid his CB’s departure from the most valuable region in need of protection. In this circumstance, a wide winger can find themselves with expansive grass to work with in the corner for a dribble inwards or a cross. He can be played to feet or into space.”

3. The 6 retreats:

“The defensive mid retreats and applies pressure from behind, hoping to prevent any gaps opening up behind the line of defense at all, and to avoid being lost out of the play. This is the most conservative option, as the often clunkier midfielder will need to catch up to the agile 10, and unless he utilizes a crafty Nainggolan-esque hook tackle, he’ll be unable to easily put his body between the creator and his forward options. Tackling from behind is a usual suspect for fouls in these parts, too. The rise of freekick specialists has made it more of a risk than ever to haphazardly defend in the advanced halfspaces. Needless to say, it is often these CAMs that stroke deadballs over the wall and under the bar, rubbing a handful of ironic salt in the wounds of the foul-committing defender.”

Alas, we fully recognize the efficacy of the halfspace. Now, let’s return to core idea.

At Last, The Rules: Maximum Occupancy

Okay! So we know a lot of stuff now. Grid, gravity, and the halfspaces of great significance. Now we move onto how the crosshatched overlay is actually used on the field.

As we discussed before, the solution to the positioning question is hard to come by if we seek answers to every specific question. JdP serves to give us a few constraints to impose on ourselves that result in a structural solution for virtually any scenario. These are guidelines of maximum occupancy–limits on how many players we might have in any region at once.

Vertical Lane Expectations

The first of these constraints is that there should not be more than 2 players in any of the 5 vertical zones. With 10 field players threatening the opposing goal, and an imaginary attack-minded configuration, we see an elegant lateral evenness in terms of our spacing across the field. We’ve got players in both channels, both halfspaces, and the center. To start, the 5 available slots and 10 available players are best distributed with 2 in each.

Now, before we start getting all up in arms about the other glaring flaws of this image, let’s all recognize that it’s the best approach in one of our two directions. 2 has been selected very deliberately here, to avoid things like this:

.. which are undoubtedly much worse. The simple division of 10 players into the 5 strips, leaving 2 in each one is actually a convenient device to teach players and help them remember this rule. To avoid writing an entire book, we’ll more thoroughly discuss how to train these principles another time.

In any case, the structure starts with even spacing along one axis. This is only part 1 of our 2D puzzle.

Horizontal Row Expectations

When we expand the cropped image above, the obvious concerns become even more alarming! Yes, we may have optimized our spacing, width-wise, but we look pretty terrible up and down. One misplaced pass and blue is countering with loads of head start. We’re got no variation in depth, nor any staggering of our boxy lines to create more incisive shapes. It’s quite gross to look at!

Thus, we introduce the second “rule” of JdP: there should not be more than 3 players in any horizontal zone. Suddenly, we can begin to achieve a less jarring structure. Something like this, perhaps:

Observe how the maximum quota isn’t reached in every row, but instead, the team simply abides by an upper limit. The two more defensive rows, above, only have 2, while the more attacking ones are “at capacity”. Here’s another, more unusual example:

Regardless of our specific configuration, the transition from 1 to 2 dimensions unfolds in a manner similar to the video below. What we find at the end of our rule-following movement is a structure full of diamonds and triangles–a notion nearly everyone in the soccer world collectively agrees is optimal for holding onto the ball and eventually scoring. That’s pretty neat.

You may be interested in understanding why this happens. Here at Touchline Theory, we hold no truths to be self evident. We always want to get to the bottom of things. So let’s dig deeper.

Why the Grid’s Rules Yield Triangularity

The shapes that emerge from abiding my JdP’s rules are no coincidence. As us engineers do it, understanding complex systems is often easiest if we simplify and then expand upon the fundamentals. If we examine more reductionist examples of grid-like structures with similar rules, we can see how the guidelines urge us to pursue diagonality in our player structure. This diagonality, in turn, bestows less orthogonality and more angular interconnections.

We start with a tiny “JdP grid” that contains the fewest players possible to have interrelations: 2. In the 2×2 shown, the players start in a non-optimized configuration, with 2 vertical zones and 2 horizontal zones. In both cases, one has both players and the other has none. We’d likely argue that this positioning, given the available field, is pretty wasteful and inefficient. Let’s propose that our “rules”, here, are that we can have no more than 1 player in any vertical or horizontal lanes. These are intended to achieve both evenness and symmetry.

In order to improve things, one player leaves the zone to another adjacent one. Their efforts are rewarded with a bit more balance–as each vertical zone has reached equal numbers and now abides by our 1 person limit–but the shape could still be better. To fully succeed at hitting our max capacities, the player moves to yet another zone and hits the jackpot. Now, we’ve got 1s all around, both in vertical and horizontal lanes, and everyone’s happy. To further sweeten the deal, the squared shape of the grid means we emerge with a diagonal interconnection.

Let’s build upon this. What happens if we augment the scale to 3 players? Let’s use a new minigrid too.

In a 3×2, we’ll make our rules such that each of the 3 vertical strips can only have 1 player. This is a direct continuation of the 2 lanes and 2 players from earlier being capped at 1 each, as well. In the 2 horizontal rows, we’ll suggest something a bit more similar to the true JdP environment: no more than 2. Here, that max value won’t be met all the time, but it still enforces the proper interspacing.

In the graphic above, we certainly might have a tongue-in-cheek triangle, but even more so than before, it looks highly inefficient. We’ve got 6 squares to occupy and only 1 is being taken. We’re all in the corner and it’s easy to defend all 3 options with just one cleverly placed defender between the ball and the receiving options (more on this, later). We can certainly do better.

By looking to follow our guidelines and achieve the goal of optimizing our horizontal and vertical evenness, we arrive at the same lovely destination as in our 2×2. Diagonal connections between players, with the added triangular base, make a trio that’s much harder to defend, single handedly, than our original constellation. Job well done.

Now, things get more interesting when we look at more players. Let’s try a 3×3 grid with both 4 and 5 to fill it. What shapes arise when we follow the rules in there? No more than 2 in any vertical or horizontal zone.

We start with our abysmal positioning, above, and move from there. One option is for the players to simply spread out but remain in their boxy shape. In doing so, we certainly meet the expected criteria, but we note that there’s a further step that can help us achieve greater evenness. Rotating the square on its side lets us move from a 2-0-2 / 2-0-2 to a 1-2-1 / 1-2-1. Here is where we can find diamonds.

Now, what if the team were to approach it slightly differently? Maybe this diamond shape is the best, but there are also some others that have maximal evenness, but suffer in symmetry. How about a 1-1-2 / 1-2-1?

Even in our slight deviations, the shapes that arise are forgiving. We don’t have a diamond, but we’ve got a triangle with a player inside it. Each player has 3 others to play, with 2 diagonal balls each, and only 1 pass that’s horizontal or vertical. That’s still pretty solid!

What happens if we make it more congested? Let’s stuff the same space with 5. Rules stay the same.

Taking after our previous shape with the 4 players, the circular lads first try the diamond idea, but this time, feature the additional player in the middle. This is a reasonable solution, despite the fact that it bends our rules a bit.

The 1-3-1 / 1-3-1 means we’ve achieved symmetry and have some nice diagonal passing options that evoke a classic rondo left-right-split trio, but our criteria are failed and we still haven’t fully optimized the space. There’s a lot of corner territory left open. If we’re looking to stretch an opponent and manipulate them, we want to pin them as wide as we can.

Thus, what hits our horizontal and vertical targets much better, while still maintaining symmetry, is a 2-1-2 / 2-1-2! This shape might seem boxier, and that’s reasonable to say, but we’ve maximized the available territory with great aplomb.

Those left-right-split rondo options? Now we’ve got the same ones, but we’ve tugged the shape of the opponent much further apart. Recall that one of the primary aims of JdP is to use gravity to pull the defense apart at the seams.

• 

• 

What we might also notice is that this new shape much more closely resembles the defensive structure from the original 442. Red on vertices, white on the spaces in between. Nice parallels.

So now let’s expand to the real thing.

When we adapt these principles to a 10v10 field with goals, the new factor introduced is a directional bias. Instead of wishing to maximize all the space, we wish to make the most of the space closest to where we want to keep the ball and hurt the opposition. This adds complexity, but with the surplus of boxes available in the traditional JdP grid, we end up alright. In the 26 zone format shown below, the offside line will rarely allow a team to seek the occupation of the full field. Instead, the specific area shifts throughout the game, but the rule format remains the same.

This bias is vertical, for the most part, given that the offside line and goals are two field features that translate along that vertical axis. This reduction of the relevant field occurs less often, and to a lesser degree, in the horizontal direction; JdP would never encourage both a channel and neighboring halfspace to be completely vacant.

The threat of a counterattack and the need to defend centrally is another issue to consider, as well, that may push back on our space optimization. The defensive end of our shape will likely prefer to be narrower, while the next line expands. The sequence can continue, contracting in the third line, and expanding for the fourth, for instance.

Here, the white team is building up out of their own half, meaning that the zones of interest have shifted with the offside line, shown with the blue undertone.

As white advances down the field, that changes.

The blue shape that we can tell comes out of this typical shift is a 5×4. Let’s do one final simplification. 10 players, baby. Here we go.

First, the rules–and these are the real ones, now. No more than 2 in each vertical zone. No more than 3 in each horizontal one. This is JdP everyone. Watch and enjoy.

It’s beautiful. By abiding by two simple rules, our team organizes itself into lines that provide great evenness, near perfect symmetry (tilted by our directional bias), and an unbelievable wealth of triangles and diamonds. This is genius at work, my friends.

Those halfspaces we talked about before? With white starting with a back 2 to defend the counterattack centrally–due to our directional bias–we manage to occupy those exact high-value zones when we arrive at row 3. How perfect.

Remember earlier when we were posing the original positioning question? The complexity that comes with everyone making individual decisions that impact the collective? Having too much information to process? JdP takes this overwhelming dilemma and simplifies the tasks necessary to defeat it.

The simple rules of maximum occupancy in intuitive horizontal and vertical zones are a comparatively straightforward item to monitor throughout a match. Compare glancing around you to ensure those two things are in check, as opposed to having no framework at all! The elegance of positional play is such that it recognizes that all we can only control ourselves–yet it gives everyone succinct directions to execute on their own, that seemingly miraculously bring about some of football’s favorite shapes.

The Value of Triangularity

Amigos, we’re almost at our destination. We’ve come far, together. For one of our final pitstops, I want to reference one last snippet that may help us fully grasp why the formations of triangles, in and of themselves, is so beneficial. All of our examples above demonstrate how effortlessly these rules, when followed in the right grids, can blossom into triads of diagonality–but we have yet to touch upon why they’re so precious for a team looking to progress the ball.

As we look to answer this question, we’ll invoke another engineering-based method: examining the problem from the entirely opposite viewpoint. We want an approach that solves defenses, regardless of the specific problem at hand, so why don’t we find the things that make their best efforts most useless?

Just like JdP has seen tremendous proliferation over recent years, the notion of cover shadows as mechanisms to defend against teams looking to progress has also been greatly appreciated. The idea can be expressed as intermediate positioning of defenders between passing options such that they “cut out” receiving options behind them. The notion is a bit of an optimization between marking the player and marking the target. It may feel counterintuitive to guard “neither”, but in reality, this intermediate positioning technique offers plenty of benefits.

Earlier this year, I spent some time diving into just how attacking sides might look to Uncover the Cover Shadow–methods for dismarking and tricking the opponent into rendering their defensive approaches useless. You can certainly read the full fledged piece in the link, above.

Of the strategies I proposed, one referenced the power of triangles–this mysteriously difficult device to defend. I talked about degrees of freedom, propensity for failure, and the ways in which having more defenders may not always be a good thing–but here’s the main idea behind it all:

2 players along a line can quite reasonably be defended by one person. Authentic “monkey in the middle” is rarely a productive game for footballers. But when we introduce a third, that single defender can never obstruct every option. They might cover option A to B, but they can’t simultaneously use their cover shadow to mark out A to C. If they stand centrally, like they might on the previous problem’s line, they’ll render themselves utterly useless.

• 

• 

• 

In order to successfully defend a triangle, we need at least 2 defenders. This improves red’s standing a bit, but the added player may actually make them more likely to fail. If only one player must execute a task correctly (i.e. using their cover shadow appropriately), we count on them, and them alone. If they complete the task 80% of the time, that’s our success rate.

If we now have two players that must mark out two options correctly, yes there might be some convenient overlap, but we’ve fundamentally added complexity to red’s defensive system. Now, if both players achieve individual success 80% of the time, our overall chance of successfully stifling the opponent is the product of both percentages–64%. Thus, the power of triangles comes in forcing far more complex and error-prone defensive units with only one additional attacking component. Take it directly from the piece:

“The reason triangles, fundamentally, are so powerful, is that they require a much more sophisticated, lower-success-probability structure to defend. They’re also a relatively ubiquitous shape on the field, meaning that they quite organically pop up everywhere, especially given the rise of Juego de Posicion and many modern formations that emphasize the shape’s recognition. Even better, triangles only require only one extra [attacking] player (over our initial linear 2-attacker model) to earn all of this extra defensive-complexity benefit. They’re efficient and destructive to a team hoping to quell a bubbling attack.”

Thus, we’ve now got a system that gets creative players into the glittering halfspaces, develops these cover-shadow-uncovering triangles, adapts to the location on the field, and more. Let’s conclude with the final cherry on top: JdP’s methods for self-regulation.

Discomfort Promotion & Perpetual Motion

Given our brilliant system and optimal interspacing, the question soon becomes: what happens when one player moves? In the smaller examples, we showed how the slightest of zone changes on behalf of any single player can inflict great harm on the group’s evenness, symmetry, and rule-abiding.

The lovely nature of JdP’s simplicity means that players with their heads on a swivel, constantly checking their surroundings for updates to the rule checks, can immediately take stock of what their move ought to be at any given time. This is the key to the positioning problem.

When someone moves, the structure becomes displaced, and that can otherwise be complex until we use our grid overlay. When the numbers break the rules or depart from our directionally biased symmetry, we have options that enable us to fill in and improve things. Take this example, for instance. A flexible structure that becomes disturbed, adapts, and returns to its idealized form–all by framing the problem through the JdP philosophy:

What’s more, we each have viable individual options to resolve the discomfort. Before, we argued that finding discrete solutions isn’t the most effective approach, or the most feasible by any means (“even if we know the answers to infinite problems, there will always be more”). What we seek is a template that provides action items for a variety of players that can each fix the problem themselves. Take a look at this conundrum, in which several players are displaced. We’ve broken a handful of rules, here, and our shape reflects that.

So what can we do? What can everyone do, individually, to help? The animation might continue like so, with multiple players all looking to solve the puzzle at once, reacting to each others’ moves, and even trading additional, momentary discomfort for a strong eventual solution:

Juego de Posición’s laws, by virtue of being self-reinforced by the law-abiding players, like shown, generate a state of perpetual motion for our possessing side. Every slight perturbation causes a reaction. If two players react in a way that contradict one another, others follow suit and adjust accordingly. The group shifts and interchanges until that equilibrium is found–and a new disturbance emerges again.

“Every action implies the subsequent action for receiving the ball.”

Óscar Cano Moreno, as referenced by Adin Osmanbašić, for Spielverlagerung

This constant motion is another tremendous byproduct of JdP. A shape that doesn’t restrict itself to the positional names each player is given, and is simply comfortable morphing into whichever roles will help satisfy the structural needs, is awfully powerful. The halfspaces are hard enough to understand and guard, let alone when the players inside them continue to rotate. How can any defense possibly keep track?

Forcing Overloads

As we draw our behemoth positional play trek to a close, I wish to remark upon a few more added bonuses of this philosophy. JdP unveils triangles, keeps the players moving, encourages field awareness, but it also delightfully forces horizontal overloads.

As thoroughly discussed in Why Inequality is the Key to Unlocking Football, numerical superiorities, in any area of the field, are passing options we always ought to prefer to equal numbers elsewhere (and let alone inferiorities). The ball-progression benefits that can come from finding areas of the pitch in which the attacking team is “numbers up” goes without saying. It’s always easier to move the ball with 3v2 than it is a 2v2.

Juego de Posicion, once more, quite artfully forces the opposition into fumbling into inferior marking situations. Poor positioning, like the example outlined below by Ben Crow for Soccer Detail in August of last year–in which two wide players reduce their effectiveness into that of one, by practically superimposing themselves onto one another in the left channel–allows for the opponent’s cover shadow to be ultra effective, and grants the red defense the opportunity to maintain their numbers across the board. The free man isn’t free any longer.

In his own words,

“The graphic above demonstrates how two players being positioned in the same vertical zone can be detrimental to the team’s chances of progressing the ball. Two players positioned in the wide channel are easily covered by one opposition player, between them and the ball, and are therefore unable to receive. Not only are they both not able to receive, but their positioning has a knock-on effect to the rest of the team. If one player was positioned in the half-space instead, it would require an additional opposition player to shift over and cover, potentially creating space for a teammate to receive in. However, since they are both covered by one opponent, the defending team have more players to cover other areas of the pitch.”

Ben Crow, for Soccer Detail in The importance of vertical zones within the context of positional play

In the JdP universe, one of the two players out wide must feel compelled to make an adjustment. In doing so, red finds it much harder to cover everything. Remember degrees of freedom? How our system is only as strong as its weakest link? How 2 cover shadow players with 80% success rate can be worse than one? Imagine that with 4, or even more, now. Red can’t handle the heat.

Check out the result of that simple readjustment in Ben’s subsequent diagram, below.

Thus, by following the JdP rules, we can take two lines of 4, especially, and categorically compromise their ability to mark out everyone. When building up and seeking options for progression, overloads and superiorities allow for easier paths to goal, and a butterfly effect that opens up the free man.

Attacking Diagonality

Through the emergence of this superiority-enforcing system, alongside the inevitable gravitational effects players and the ball can have on the opponent, coaches like Pep Guardiola have pushed the baseline philosophy that “build-up ought not result in a finish on the same side of the field”.

The notion largely being, we advance the ball on one end, draw the defense in, only to spring it over to the weak side. We overload the ballnear regions and exploit those left behind.

Once more, Adin eloquently reflects on this precise idea,

“Teams that use this philosophy of Positional Play determine which spaces they want to attack based on the game strategy then use a distraction in another area before striking the opponent in the desired area, i.e. playing on the left side to gather the opponents there, in order to finish the attack on the right or playing in deep areas to lure the opponents out in order to finish the attack in behind the opponent in the open spaces.”

Adin Osmanbašić, for Spielverlagerung

It’s the bait and switch. It’s a method for dragging the opponent, manipulating them, and displacing them. Attacks start on one end, and are rewarded on the opposite end of the diagonal.

This JdP offshoot-philosophy can be seen in many of Manchester City’s goals. Not only does the team seek to start progression on one end and flip to the other past a certain threshold, but those high xG, far post, final balls The Cityzens love to play are yet another iteration of the same idea, applied to the definition third. The defense gets drawn to the left, a ball gets swung in for a runner on the weak side, and it’s tapped home. Defenses invest their resources towards the ball, leave vacancies, and can barely do anything to stop it. In JdP, not only are players spaced along diagonals, but play progresses that way, too.

Formational Implications

Our final note refers to the tangible impact that this has on formations. JdP is a system, a lifestyle, that says formations are nothing but a starting point–yet it has had a direct effect on the ways in which managers look to formally organize their squads.

To start, Pep Guardiola has often supported the nominal 5×4 grid setup we discussed before, with a 2-3-2-3 in build-up that’s somewhat of a W-W when viewed from behind. He’s also shifted it into a 3-2-3-2 like what our rotation sequence ended on. That’s more of an M-M.

• 

• 

These constellations are optimized versions of the demos we discussed earlier on.

The notions of prying open the opposition, in general, have also been largely influential on formations. Pinning the opposition fullbacks wide opens up the halfspace like an oyster. Systems that impose this on the opponent can be hugely beneficial in augmenting the appeal of JdP’s most valuable zones.

Take it from The Single Pivot, an online friend and one of my favorite sources for his frequent musings on positional play and its irrefutable benefits. With an expansive knowledge of Barcelona’s tactical history, he informally touched upon the impacts of wide “pinning-to-pry” and “pieces-over-pawns” on formational decisions in a recent newsletter:

“…with that said, if I were in charge, my preferred formations would be a 4–3–3 or diamond 3–4–3 with wide wingers instead of wing-backs. Primarily, I would prioritise these for the creation of triangles, the possibility to generate superiorities in midfield and the flexibility they offer. But also, for featuring two positions which I consider indispensable for positional play: interiors / central midfielders in front of a single pivot, and wingers glued to the touchline. Other roles could be as key, but the presence of interiors and wingers would make me prefer the 4–3–3 and diamond 3–4–3 over other systems.”

The Single Pivot, for his May 24th Newsletter titled Laying the Foundations

Those “interiors” he references frequently reside in our optimized halfspaces! Those wingers stretch the opponent defense in regions where we can benefit most–not in those seldom guarded by the opposition. One 6 to play the distribution role at the center of the 2-3-2-3’s first triplet, perhaps with fullbacks advancing into psuedo-6 roles in build up alongside them. The Single Pivot’s suggestions, here, are reflective of an insightful shift in starting formations seen across world football, all designed with the JdP philosophy in mind.

Final Thoughts

So there you have it! It is always tough to take a ubiquitous, staple topic, and make a contribution to its literature, but I hope I’ve been able to add something to your understanding of positional play, today. As mentioned, I’ve always seen the idea referred to, emblemized in people’s twitter handles or bios, and more, but I’ve also seen it misconstrued and mangled. It is my hope that I’ve been able to take what can be a very abstract idea and unfold its intricacies in a practical manner–with my way of solving problems like an engineer would, diving into the details, providing a wealth of examples, holding no truths to be self evident, and so forth.

As we conclude, let’s recap what we’ve learned.

The question of positioning is eternal and ever-important. Knowing how to do this is fundamental, but also fundamentally really hard. There’s an infinite number of problems to solve, with individual pieces only able to move themselves, yet each carrying large significance for the overarching structure.

Juego de Posición looks to solve that. After our journey, we can now see that the reference we use to evaluate position lies in an entirely new dimension: an imaginary grid that adds context to an otherwise confusing blur. These subdivisions give rise to the halfspaces, which are tremendously beneficial, hard to defend, and are especially good at collapsing the defense through the notion of gravity.

By employing a few rules that dictate the maximum occupancy of any given horizontal or vertical lane, we create simple counting guidelines that are easier to observe and follow than instructing all players to simply “create triangles”. When we abide by these guidelines, the cover-shadow-uncovering triads and diamonds emerge, and our progression becomes harder to stop.

Positional play boasts a handful of added bonuses too: including the perpetual motion that comes from inevitable shape disturbances–prompting positional rotation, the organic generation of overloads, diagonal attack direction, and even a shift in formation decisions based on its optimization.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride as much as I have. The JdP philosophy is fascinating, brilliant, and absolutely worth continuous learning. As mentioned earlier on, I will, someday, design and assemble drills that can help you teach these principles to your players, too. Until then, be sure to dive into the additional resources I’ve referenced down below, and stay curious, my friends.

P.S. Special Shoutouts

This piece has been chock full of references and quotes from other spectacular people in this space–and I’d be remiss if I didn’t further express my gratitude. This topic is so complex, so intricate, and so often misunderstood, that finding reliable sources with unique insights and syntheses was vital to my own understanding and growth. Here’s a quick list of people whose work you should, without any hesitation, check out for more on positional play or any other tactical intricacies.

In order of appearance:

Adin has an utterly fantastic repertoire of tactical insights and deep dives. Be sure to read anything he’s posted on Spielverlagerung, including the post I referenced multiple times in this article: Juego de Posición under Pep Guardiola. It’s rare to have such a fine-tuned appreciation for footballs subtle dynamics. The Atlanta United Professional Development Pathway Assistant Coach is accredited from a variety of elite coaching bodies, has got a few brilliant tactical YouTube videos (including a favorite, here), a strong coaching Twitter presence, and an uncanny ability to bring soccer thinkers together. Keep track of his newest project, Soccer Detail, as well.

Ben is one to watch in this space. At 17, his understanding of tactical nuance is unlike few I’ve ever seen before. In particular, the guy has a distinctly refined understanding of overloads, hence my referencing his Soccer Detail piece, here. For more on superiorities within the context of JdP, check this one out, too. For his full collection, peek at the Wakelet, as well. He’s approachable, sharp, and a coaching talent for the future–so be sure to check out his writing.

Thank you, everyone.

Till next time.

---

Hey there!

If you like what you’ve read, we’d love for you to join us.

Touchline Theory is an independent project. We’re building a community of football thinkers committed to exploring what others don’t.

If you’re here, we think you’d fit right in.

Leave this field empty if you’re human: