On May 29th, two all-too-familiar foes crusaded into the fiercely named Dragon Stadium for one final war.
Team A, an adroit troupe of architects escorted by their sagacious Catalan manager–hailing from the teeming, albeit hoary-skied, land of Manchester. The Cityzens, having travelled all the way from where there is a light that never goes out, rode in with their footballing interpretation of lex talionis emblazoned on their ironically-dubbed, sky blue lapels. That fabled night, along the northwestern Portuguese coast, was their chance to vindicate the past. Their arrival, marked by the conquest of two consecutive Borussias, and the vanquishment of Paris, was regarded with worthy approbation–but the malefic spell of favoritism clung to them like cobwebs. This was their bonanza to ruin.
The other, a bellicose steam engine pumping like a constituency of exultant fists, rolled in ready to rive the bookies’ prognostications. The Blues had endured a tepid start to the year, epitomized by club-legend-turned-public-enemy Frank Lampard’s inability to achieve a fluidic harmony between the club’s crop of nonpareil, new signings. Roman Abramovich chose the season’s 45′ minute to substitute in a more tactically avant-garde commander. No, this wasn’t Major Tom, but rather Thomas Tuchel, the human manifestation of the Cheshire Cat that took the careening London carriage by the reigns and righted it with iron hands. Having trampled, this time, both Madrids, and the host-city’s beloved Porto along their intimidatingly-stabilized journey, they arrived with venom thumb-smudged across their lips. The kiss of death had been all but delivered.
The world watched. Some, singing paeans to the muscular English Premier League, who’d impressively punched both tickets to the prestigious final. Others, lurking in the online shadows, primed to pounce on the specious notion that Guardiola had overthought the match from minute one. More, still, bit their nails in anticipation of a vindictive homecoming for Kevin De Bruyne, the mirthful Ngolo Kante’s chance at midfield eternity, or El Kun’s final Mancunian showdown. Whatever your hopes were, there was no disagreement regarding the momentousness of the occasion. That day, scripture was to be written.
But as friends and rivals converged on couches across planet Earth–perfervidly tuning into this gladiatorial duel–what we didn’t know was that the Cruyffian prodigal son was only 90 minutes away from meeting his thinly veiled assassin.
In what was, in my proletarian opinion, one of the greatest footballing showdowns of all time, Chelsea slayed the Halfspace King.
It was a work of art, worthy of adorning the distinguished walls of the Louvre, and more than worthy of a careful Touchline Theory analysis. Today, nearly four months after the decisive clash, we look back at what made the 2020/2021 UCL grand finale so special–and what to expect when they soon face off again.
Avoiding Trouble
The last time I sought to digest this match in public fashion, I was irrevocably banned from Twitter. My 12-minute analytical video, chock full of annotations and elucidations, was flagged for a breach of Copyright rules, despite my best intentions. After weeks of writing essays to the mysterious DMCA deities, I gave in. It was a stupid social media account after all. C’est la vie.
But now, a third of a year later, I still want to offer that work to whoever might enjoy it. It’s sat firmly in a shared folder since the initial deluge of requesting dms, but it’s ready for a second round of shares. I won’t publicize on Twitter because the stove’s no place for a hand, but I feel a little safer, here. If you want it, it’s the best way to understand what happened between Tuchel and Pep. I’d definitely recommend it.
For me to share the file safely without being deleted from the Internet, and since it’s far too large to be hosted on WordPress anyway, I will be sending out the Drive link to all blog subscribers. If you wish to join, it’d be an honor to have you. You’ll be united with the over 200 new members from this summer, alone. This match analysis will be your first of many free football gifts, from me. Just wait ’till the holidays!
If you’re a first-timer and would rather read my work first, don’t sweat it. You should. The sign-up form will be available at the very end, or up in the top right toolbar, if you’re interested afterwards.
Fork in One Hand, Knife in the Other
Alright, that’s enough of that! Let’s skip the appetizers and go straight for the meat and potatoes. Our first half will discuss a few elements regarding how Chelsea deadbolted Man City back in May. The full analysis, as mentioned, and with all the clips included, is available in the full video. We’ll spend the second part proposing ways in which this weekend’s confrontation might be different–methods for City to get out of the muck. Capisce? Capisce.
Let’s deal with the basic stuff quick. Personnel featured as follows: (remember, any given online lineup source will artistically represent what they think the formation is, but that is often incorrect! Use this, more than anything, to get a sense of who was on the field, not where they inhabited.)
On the field, City played somewhat of a standard 433 with what we might effectively call the “front 6” being comprised of 2 wingers and 4 attacking midfielders. Bold, yes. We can argue, just like Pep did, whether (or not) Gundogan’s upbringing as a holding midfielder qualifies him to play that role after a glittering campaign between the false 9 and other advanced positions, but it’s not terribly important. Though this was one of the many things the media leapt to crucify him for, the choice may not have mattered all that much, anyway.
The Blues, on the other hand, played a formation that could have been construed as a 3421 as shown, but was most certainly a 523 that transitioned into a 343 in carefully selected circumstances. Tuchel’s blueprint–be it by causality, or entirely deliberately–was a kryponitic puzzle piece that couldn’t have interlocked more seamlessly with Guardiola’s famously embraced, ball-dominant approach.
You see, Pep is all about spaces, right? He wants to pry the defense open with clever movements and get his most creative players on the ball in those highly threatening locations, but Chelsea clearly knew that. While other teams, historically, have struggled to find an answer to City’s overarching creative virtuosity (let alone their merry-go-round of technically proficient, exchanging substitutes), the German head coach simply started his problem-solving efforts by identifying the territory Guardiola valued the most: the halfspaces. These regions, spatial liaisons between the channels and the central strip of the field, are widely known to be prime build-up, progression, and incision targets within the context of “positional play”–the doctrine each and every one of Guardiola’s teams has firmly bought into.
Juego de Posición, or JdP, has already earned a lengthy examination on this blog, and I’d encourage you to take a look if you haven’t already. Much of what I’ll discuss, from here, is under the assumption that we share a similar understanding of the philosophy.
This article was actually started prior to that one–before I realized I needed to explain Batman’s inner-workings before we dove into the Joker. Originally, as I wrote about JdP here, the explanation got to be so long and so far removed from the UCL final that it simply spun off into its own thing. Luckily, it’s now the most-viewed piece on here, with over 8,000 of you having graced it–but that’s beside the point. To firmly grasp why Pep appreciates what he does, we need to start there. To decipher why a genius of the Catalonian’s acuity could become so distraught, so vulnerable, and so numbingly impotent in the face of having something snatched away from him, we must first recognize the significance of what he held.
Staring into the eyes of his opponent, Tuchel–as they say these days–understood the assignment. To start, he needed to design a system in which those halfspaces were plugged. For quintessential formations like the 442, these gaps between the lines are far from nodes of pressure, and have a tendency to collapse a defensive unit once penetrated–so his thought, as intuitive as it might seem in retrospect, was to not-make them holes at all.
This was his defensive gameplan, Part 1.
Part 1: Spatial Inversion
So what exactly did Tuchel do?
Chelsea’s defensive 5, in this matchup, included two central defenders on either side of one authentically central one. These lads, Rudiger and Azpilicueta, behaved like pistons pumping up and down in the halfspace regions–and we’ll discuss them in much greater detail in Part 2.
Typically, we have center backs and wide backs, but today, what we might effectively call halfspace backs pioneered a defensive effort to banish the territorial uncertainty that comes with those intermediate regions. Historically, when attackers occupy these spaces, it can be less intuitive for the defense to know whose job it is to cover them–since they have neither one neighboring label nor the other. But on this day, there was a Chelsea player for each of JdP’s 5 vertical zones. No sacrifices necessary.
And so, instead of succumbing to the precise thing the Man City players would’ve wanted–namely, defenders along the vertices of these grid spaces, so as to practically mark out where the golden zones are (i.e. a back 4)–Tuchel began by visually distorting City’s strongly-relied-upon mental map. The trick? He simply offset each of his individual components.
City designs their sequences and patterns of play based on the outline below. Had they been able to pick their poison, this is the selection they might’ve made–a formation that practically draws the boxes themselves. The 442 displayed is highly orthogonal, even numbered, and produces glaring spaces between each respective line. Their objective versus this type of opposition: find Kevin, find Bernardo, find Phil in those regions. Directing the ball into these areas tends to present an array of tantalizing options–the chance to shoot, play threatening passes into onrunning attackers, and a visual vantage point that benefits from the best of both the wing and central worlds.
The advanced halfspaces, as has been laboriously studied in The Practical Guide to Actually Understanding Positional Play, also have a convenient fallback if all traditional options are closed. In the case that the defense reacts and ushers forth a front-liner willing to catch the grenade (in the form of a player “stepping” to the ball), space will invariably be left in behind–almost by defintion.
This game is all about forcing decisions, and when we’re routinely able to shove that onus unto our opponents, we compel errors. The blanket shifts but it cannot cover everything. The choice as to who marks a charging halfspace threat is painfully lose-lose for our opponents, as any decision will inherently displace an otherwise carefully deployed defensive line, and serves as the handing over of a roadmap that marks out more goal-near, and newly unoccupied, real estate in their wake.
Take this example, in which a centerback is drawn out of position to press high on a 10 receiving the ball, leaving space in behind for the striker. They initially exclaim in delight that they’ve prevented the momentary threat, but they’ve hardly struck a favorable deal. The thing they’re hoping to guard most has now been left unchaperoned, and vulnerable to attack.
We can expand this “magnetism” principle to imagine additional permutations.
The video below demonstrates the notion that “strong local coverage implies negligence abroad”. This is a psychological inversion we’ve discussed before, too: the importance of teaching young players, discouraged by high defensive density along an intended path, that what they’re seeing is actually positive–it suggests the existence of opportunity, elsewhere. Even if these “Plan A” zones collapse and become closed down, the event can generate even bigger holes on the other side of the field. Bank robbers always use clever diversions! Don’t be fooled by the smoke.
What’s more–these disturbances can be caused in quick succession.
But, as we’ve discussed, Kante & Co. aren’t that stupid! They shuffled the deck. They knew that City had trained thousands of repetitions regarding how to exploit teams from these pockets of space, so they flipped them on their heads. The 5-back, against a JdP-worshipping side, nuzzles in brilliantly. For Chelsea, that is.
By reversing the pockets inside out, The Blues presented a confident and intimidating front. The message was pretty clear: if you want room to breathe, you’ll have to look somewhere else.
When a team is accustomed to interpreting space by drawing lines through their opponents, the product of this 5-back ordeal is a bit of a jolt. The halfspaces basically don’t exist anymore. Neither do the central regions. Even the channels are a little bit odd.
Of course, this isn’t to say that Pep’s City hadn’t trained the principles of playing their style against the challenge of 5 defenders (Wolves, amongst others, have employed that system in the EPL, and it simply isn’t that unorthodox), but the resultant grid is still a stumbling block.
If the group attempts to visualize their usual targets with this new configuration, here’s what they might see:
To which, you might be right to ask, “uhhh, Martín, what the hell am I looking at?”
By adjusting Pep’s anchors, Tuchel took the gaps and inverted them. Everywhere City usually wanted to go was covered, leaving them with the cognitively demanding task of targeting the opposite regions they were used to. That’s tough to execute on the fly.
Yet, looking at the picture above, we might be reasonably suggest to target the “pseudo-halfspaces” (those wider holes between the outside centerback and fullback drawn so impressively wide)–but the Mancunians failed to re-imagine the pitch in that way. They stuck to an outdated blueprint, leaving them seeking to penetrate zones that were no long viable.
What happens when blood tries to squeeze through a clogged artery? Well, you tell me.
Each time Chelsea assembled a uniform façade, like so, they gave the impression that attacking, in and of itself, probably wasn’t even a worthwhile endeavor.
Demoralization of your opponent can prove to be a fruitful goal, but there’s a bit of a line to toe. If you get them down in the dumps too quick, they might change course completely–and adapt to something new you hadn’t planned for. Part 1 of Tuchel’s defensive masterclass was a powerful blocking method, but had to be used with caution. They couldn’t afford for Pep to really try something new. They just wanted him to keep failing with the same thing.
And Guardiola certainly didn’t help himself.
Falling on the sword of his own convictions, the perspicacious tactician watched the challenge unfold, head-on, and remained determined to defeat it. This, the mark of someone with belief and desire to truly be the world’s best, couldn’t be blamed, but didn’t ameliorate things one bit.
Fatally Perseverant
Amidst adversity, City held true to their ideals–a rare virtue we might commend them for in practically any other context–but a move that this time, proved fatal. In most tragic fashion, it was, in some part, the unwavering problem-solving mentality and highly-invested culture that so many coaches around the world are desperate to cultivate, and City actually have, that kept them digging down the rabbit hole.
Yet, while we can draw these whiteboard line and stroke our proverbial beards after the fact, it’s not like the team was immediately aware as to why their rapidly accumulating pile of failures was continuing to grow. The hole, to them and at the time, looked like any other difficult obstacle. They’d prepared to be tested, and surely this was it.
At times in the first half, bewildered by the swift pressure they felt in these ordinarily spacious territories, City’s players looked lost but naively hopeful. They carried on, targeting the same places they always did, but appeared blissfully unperturbed as Chelsea repeatedly obstructed their path. As the game wore on, the Cityzens’ demeanor increasingly took on that of a sputtering, unsettled toddler whose teasing has just crossed the line. Confused, furrowed brows permeated the group’s collective countenance, followed by exasperated gesticulations, and probably quietly accompanied by the professionally contained desire to stamp feet. I probably would’ve thrown a tantrum, too.
Chelsea’s design was suffocating like a boa constrictor–and while City was supposedly the team with the tool that could solve infinite questions, the goalposts had been moved. The modus operandi that’d earned them so much victorious consistency, and filled their cabinets with all but the glitziest trophy of all, wasn’t working. With the stakes so immensely high, and the clingy fibers of expectation only intensifying the claustrophobia, the team’s despair was palpable inside 20 minutes. A thorny exam was to be anticipated, but not an imploding worldview. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.
Yet, had City seen the opening minutes and disposed of their record breaking formula with the snap of a finger (let alone during the most important match of the year), they would’ve risked even more chastising post-match denigration.
Any time we switch lanes and the traffic actually gets worse, our suffering grows disproportionately. It transitions from “woe is me!” to “I’ve brought this upon myself!”, tying us into our own demise. When that happens, when we were in control of our own fate, it’s more painful. If we had no chance from the start, it’s one thing, but if we screwed ourselves, it’s another.
Imagine the twisted alternative reality in which Guardiola sat back and invited Chelsea out to play. This reverse Uno, an unbefitting but potentially compelling strategy when facing a team set up to defend for the full 90, may have appeared like a quasi-reasonable approach in the face of mounting uncertainty. The sudden shift might’ve uncomfortably coerced Jorginho and Kante into being ball-progressors instead of such effective destroyers, Werner a fox in the box instead of an expert halffield offside skier, or Rudi & Azpi into less-convincing build-up starting points rather than steamrolling pistons.
But City aren’t that team. They’ve never been that team. These fantasies exist in dreamland and dreamland only. With their front 6 deployed and salivating for attacking artistry, perhaps they stood an even worse chance in succumbing to the reactive tactic. You thought Bernardo and his friends looked sheepish in attack? Imagine defense! Or better yet, don’t.
No alternative is as good as the original idea. Plan B isn’t Plan A for a reason. City’s best chance to win was to do what they’d always done. They had no motivations to think otherwise.
And so, in the back of his mind, Tuchel knew that Pep probably wouldn’t budge. He’d been known to tinker in fixtures of significance, but he’d practically telegraphed some of his underlying principles. The tenets of positional play were iconic, defined an era of Spanish football, and had little reason to be deviated from. The halfspaces were, and continue to be, City’s language. It’s their lifeblood. Even in the face of this immovable object, they weren’t crazy to believe that they could be the unstoppable force to get it over the line.
But in spite of these elements in Chelsea’s favor, as previously mentioned, they still needed to be careful. As City’s key players grew more and more outwardly vexed, there was, perhaps, the chance of mutiny. When things don’t work, players, and even the staunchest managers, may jump ship. Tuchel couldn’t simply annihilate everything. He needed to hurt them, but keep them coming back.
Enter, Part 2: the balancing act, the true glimmer of genius, and perhaps the most vital ingredient in his poisonous elixir.
Part 2: The Luring Cagefighter
Our shrewd friend Thomasito needed a carefully orchestrated, secondary phase of defense–one to intersperse amidst the dizzying disorientation of inverted spaces, to keep his opponent from totally going haywire.
Sure, installing players in nominal positions to simply block up the entire width of the field was an effective component, but Tuchel was also smart enough to realize that trying to shut down the entire thing would only work so often. Expending resources like that, and more importantly, showing all his cards, could induce fatigue and strain his group’s collective focus. Doing so wouldn’t be wise against a wizard like Guardiola. He needed a way to oscillate between swatting at buzzing flies and letting them settle on a piece of juicy fruit before smacking them out of existence.
Thus, while in some instances, Chelsea’s approach was to simply clatter into the backs of City’s halfspace receiving players, granting them zero comfort whatsoever, they also knew when to strategically let their feet off the gas. The occasional false sense of security may have been the only thing keeping their opponents from descending into chaos.
The strategy was ingenious. One moment, Tuchel had his team plowing up the field to upend KDB in his own half–but in another, he let them get confident first. Obviously well aware as to which openings City would’ve liked to infiltrate, had they been able to simply pick, he set up an environment that–when implemented correctly–actually let them arrive there. He let them taste a hint of glory before snatching it right back.
This bait and switch played the Cityzens’ hopes like a harp–not discouraging them sufficiently to try something else, but also leaving no room for any success. It was a silent, but brilliant form of torture, a venus fly trap of sorts, and the kind of psychological warfare only the elite can comfortably wield.
In these speciously inviting rounds, the peripheral characters near the advanced halfspaces played just as important of a role as the main, destructive actors. They needed to entice first, then trap, then kill. In order to do that, the fullbacks, centerbacks, and double pivot all funneled City’s attacking patterns directly into where they presumably wanted to be.
The two tightly compacted CDMs obstructed central penetration, forcing the Mancunians to go around their fort. The fullbacks, in pressing exceedingly high on the wingers (as we’ll discuss more, shortly), made it quite uninviting to strike from the channels, either. Part 2 of the plan was to build a cage.
After having had heels clipped on the previous play, any spurred-on attacker with a second chance will fancy themselves for another go. Chelsea hypnotized their opponents by getting in their face, and then immediately goading them to swing back. Once the return punch was attempted, the real killer blow was handed.
The confrontational hitman that actually carried it out? I call him the cagefighter. An aggressive tackling artist, aided by the enclosure of his tightly knit gang.
Time and time again, fluctuating between Part 1 to Part 2, Chelsea pried open their own space, inviting in passes, before promptly collapsing onto on their enemy. Once the ball entered, and City’s eyes grew wide, they revealed the hidden tiger inside the ring. With walls collapsing, the now-startled magicians were forced to tango with their fanged cellmates. Typically, the ball was either stolen, or kindly ushered back where it came from. Progression was never on the cards.
The results were consistently grim. De Bruyne in space! Nope. Just kidding.
Their discipline and consistency were excellent. Enjoy the second half of the clip from earlier. Part 1, followed swiftly by Part 2. Watch how all nearby Chelsea players obstruct or invite-and-trap various targets. Even after multiple tries, City’s only choice is to peace the hell out.
Physical Mismatch and Negative Evolution
As time wore on and the oscillatory subjugation continued, City also succumbed to the physical pressures more and more. If you thought the mind games were on full display with his seesaw defensive phases, just you wait. The clever coach made use of another, perhaps seemingly obvious angle, too: bullying.
That’s right. I’m not sure any other term would do it justice. He instructed his team to be mean.
And it worked.
Beyond mere personnel, it was evident that one of Chelsea’s objectives was to, quite literally, knock City off their game. Ordered to get away with as much as feasibly possible, and devote a lot of focus to executing the nudges and bumps just right, the Londoners accompanied nearly every pressure from behind with physical impact.
If the pass was made, they were tight on the attackers’ back. If it wasn’t, they shoved them anyway.
I understand this type of thing could be construed as commonplace, but the consistency with which Chelsea carried out their cheap shots was simply remarkable. Every damn time–and only rarely did they ever get carried away.
The objective? Not merely shithousery, but genuine emasculation. To impose discomfort. To threaten personal space. To interrupt clever thinking with a whack on the back of the head.
Chelsea marvelously played the match to the beat of their own drum. Little knicks and knocks hither and thither aggravated City’s players who, as it was clear from the get-go, would be unlikely to ever strike back anyway. At times, when only one side chooses to engage in a war of pettiness, that side just ends up winning. The high road, denoted by a more delicate and less confrontation approach, left City feeling like the victim in many of their own offensive turns. When the focus turns to avoiding injury, as opposed to cutting apart the opposition, that’s when you know the diversion has worked.
The archetypes present in royal blue were like Toni Rudiger, a freakishly athletic man literally wearing a black mask from having fractured his own face. Tell me the image below, from Bernardo’s following encounter with the German defender in the Summer’s European Championships, doesn’t look like a scene right out of a Halloween nightmare. This shit is unsettling, man!
Across the field, these matchups were just plain unfair. Pushing and shoving was the R-rated, thematic element from this match. Even when City looked to propose some less ground-focused solutions, and opt for the air, there wasn’t any hope.
Thiago Silva towered over small-but-mighty Phil Foden.
Reece James exerted his dominance over lightning-quick-but-admittedly-tiny Raheem Sterling.
( .. and more.)
What this gradually turned into was a transition towards negative body shape upon ball reception. City’s players were so wary that Chelsea would be tailgating them, that instead of opening up their shoulders like Guardiola has been known to hammer home with his boys, they evolved to position themselves increasingly hangdoggedly.
Bracing for impact, they sought to shield the ball and protect it, naturally inhibiting their forward vision of the field. Sometimes, even after this bonus had been attained, the Chelsea lads barged into the City players yet again. All in good fun!
In any case, whether this disinclination to optimistically receive was a lucky side effect of Tuchel’s truculent style, or not, it was perhaps the most convenient of outcomes. Not only were Chelsea toying by opening and closing the halfspaces, but they were also forcing City to literally look away from goal, every time they sought to advance the ball. This gradually stimulated the regularity of backwards passes, too, since they became the most readily available routes, as the Manchester side became increasingly risk-averse.
The cagefighters’ cantankerousness was only emboldened by the widespread coverage of Chelsea’s backline. Effectively unstretchable, with each of the 5 zones filled at practically all times (regardless of lateral ball position), the spaces that ordinarily would be left open if a centerback from a back 4 were to step, were no longer a problem.
This, critically, is one of the techniques that we expressed JdP relies on–the comfort in knowing that if pressure is activated, openings will form elsewhere. Not only was there no suggestion of this, due to Chelsea’s thorough spreading, but the “true” centerback and fullbacks were always prepared to cover for their eager halfspace piston. When someone leapt to press, there was no opportunity in behind. There was always plenty of backup.
Here’s a pertinent example. Azpilicueta steps high to engage De Bruyne after inveigling him into the cagefighter’s lair. Though the Belgian’s body shape upon recaption is ideal for, say, a one-two exchange with Sterling, Reece’s excellent positioning lets him eliminate both the ball to feet, as well as the one through.
Ultimately, the cherry atop this evening of domineering collisions came in the most unfortunate 56th minute. Rudiger, zealous as always, trucked into City’s best player and brightest hope at winning the UCL trophy. Though the hit was hard, at first glance it looked fairly unremarkable–precisely the aura that all of Chelsea’s clonks intentionally carried–but the injury was severe. The creative hub of the sky blue’s attack suffered multiple facial fractures, further cementing the bad omens Rudiger’s phantom of the opera costume had signaled from the onset, and taking him entirely out of commission for the rest of the game.
Things didn’t get easier from there.
Handoffs, Trailers, and Other Back-Up Mechanisms
What you’ll soon come to appreciate in this match retrospective is that Tuchel choreographed this practically unbreakable system–but he also accounted for nearly every possible failure, too. Baked within this stalwart of a blockade were a variety of assisting features in the case that things went sideways.
The first of these, I must say, was some of the most remarkably executed marking exchanges I’ve ever seen. Jorginho & Kante surveyed the field and, along with Thiago & Christensen, coordinated pressure assignments like a hawk-eyed military radar, surveying for threats. With multiple lighthouses casting their beams upon the Chelsea defensive third, not a single City player went undetected. When one man left their post, another soon arrived. When they wanted to push Part 1, they stayed tied to their opponents like a tight pair of shoes.
This coordination proved effective, likely due to hours upon hours drilling vigilance on the training ground, but also because of how clear the communication was. Cues were nearly always given both verbally, and with visible hand gestures that left nothing to the imagination. No one was ever casually called off or summoned–there was a shout, a point, and a nod of the head.
Perhaps even more impressively, The Blues showcased an impressive willingness to water-carry, too. Players were splendidly willing to take responsibility for their teammates’ shortcomings or errors. This “captain’s quality” was strongly felt throughout the side.
In the clip below, Rudiger has been drawn absurdly high to ensure that Part 1 is enacted to its fullest potential. As a lofted ball is contested, Jorginho observes how his partner is pretty out of his depths, despite his best intentions and following of his role’s guidelines, so he plugs in without hesitation. He’d initially motioned to alert everyone of the threat in behind, but upon seeing that pressure wasn’t immediately available, he took it upon himself to make things happen. These little moments win you games.
Here, enjoy another example. Azpi is a little late the cagefighting party, despite Jorginho’s cue. Though he has an attacker already near him, who might potentially be interested in a pass in behind, he sticks to the script and hastens to join the cage. The Italian 6 had originally planned to take the advanced halfspace himself, to ensure his Spanish partner wouldn’t be caught on an island, but the immediate adjustment–a handoff of markers–was made in the blink of an eye. Even when a flicker of light appeared for City, the darkness was quick to quell it.
Another critical backup mechanism was a smart response to City’s efforts to hop the fence. When the sky blue outfit alternatively sought to break lines and engage the press from deep–instead of being tempted, drawn out, and overloaded–Tuchel’s line could rest assured that one of the front three attackers would trail the threat and neutralize it. No one walked through the door without a security guard tailing them.
What’s most impressive about this is the fact that motivating defensive accountability for attack-minded players can be one of football’s greatest challenges. It’s yet another inversion. Yet, Tuchel has clearly hit the nail on the head with whatever persuasion is laid out in practice. Academy-born winger, Callum Hudson-Odoi recently remarked on his tiresome but rewarding defensive duties.
In the UCL Final, especially, Havertz and Pulisic were more than happy to pull their weight in terms of progression-halting responsibility. If players already residing in the halfspaces were being caught under intense pressure, turning away from their defenders more and more, and so forth, the idea of charging headfirst at this wall, and at speed, was pretty reasonable. In theory, the move would be more dynamic, facing the correct direction, and be much harder to pick up. That is, unless someone simply followed them.
Even if a triumphant steal wasn’t achieved, the unsettling blindside presence was often enough to weigh down the incisive maneuver, eroding away at the tactic’s best attribute–its energy.
This anti-overloading tactic worked wonders. In similar fashion to Part 2’s cajoled hubris, this was Chelsea’s alternative method to letting their opponents get excited before clobbering them out of nowhere. It probably wasn’t their expectation that the front three would care so much, so as to accompany them over their entire journey.
This, actually segues nicely into the final added component: a paragonic display of cover shadow usage. Not only did the front three track back diligently, but they also prevented central penetration one line ahead of the CDM linkage. As noted in a handful of the previous gif examples, the orientation of pressure enabled The Blues up high to carefully funnel City into cages, frustrate Gundogan and De Bruyne with a their inability to advance the ball from deep, and tighten the bolts of despair on Stones and Dias’ efforts to play out of defense.
And so not only did Tuchel concoct the ideal, creativity-congealing potion–but he had micro-ideas laid out for when the side effects inevitably broke through. With absurdly effective, danger-spotting coordination, hitched attackers to late runs, and exceptional, manipulatory, pressing behavior, the German head honcho left no room for surprises.
EPL Preview: Double-Down Worthy Solutions
So, all things considered, this was firmly a masterclass in score-prevention–but that isn’t to say City didn’t show any signs of progress at all. I’ve probably painted a pretty dreary picture, but they did. They were often squashed, or unlucky to have not gone through, but I’d be dismissive if I didn’t recognize the handful of promising ideas they, at least, attempted. Many of these, if not all, would’ve been worthy of greater investment.
Thus, as I look ahead to the weekend, here are three schemes that City might look to give another chance on Saturday.
Assuming Chelsea set-up in a similarly defensive approach–which, given the lack of transfer changes in that department (besides Chalobah and Saul who are both unlikely to play) is quite probable–these learning points from their last encounter could be quite vital. Though I would never underestimate Tuchel after watching all of this, he might very well be persuaded to inflict pain in the same way he won Europe’s biggest competition only a few months prior. In the case that City faces a system akin to the Final’s, I’ve proposed a few cherry-picked ideas they’re clearly already comfortable with, but could dial in and implement even more.
First, and probably foremost, The Unzipper.
One of City’s highest-potential ideas occurred when their halfspace artists dropped deep to receive. In tugging the cagefighter out, they sought to displace them such that the space in behind was actually within the more standard halfspace itself–not already in the box and covered by the piston’s backup coverage. In sequences in which this happened successfully, the Mancunians found themselves with players like Foden on the ball, driving through their favorite meadowlands, and facing what was now, effectively a back 4. This was honestly the way to do it.
Often generating openings for teammates, or even themselves, these decoy players frequently employed wall passes or third-man run combos to fight back and finally receive in the areas they wanted to. They’d tricked the cagefighters to wander out of the cage, before suddenly shutting the gate behind them.
In arriving against a more traditional back 4, Chelsea’s close marking methods actually worked against them. They were drilled to practically always have a man right near them, but when the cagefighter had been displaced became unable to go man-for-man, all of the marking decisions our standard halfspaces grant us were suddenly invoked. If the centerback steps, well, they’re leaving their close mark and gifting more valuable space in their wake. If the fullback drives centrally, the channel is left unmarked for Raheem or Riyad. If the 6 or overstepping cagefighter try to recover, they run the risk of plowing through a tidy player’s back, while they surge towards goal. That’s prime freekick territory.
This goes without saying that now, with this sudden makeshift back 4, the whole line is awfully asymmetrical and poorly-spaced. A gaping opening between the fullback and centerback leaves lots of time for the artist to plot their next move. It also helps them get closer to their target. It’s, all around, a fantastic game state to elicit and hopefully work with.
The second method I’d propose is that of Cage Crowding. Though it only really happened once, and was probably by accident, I loved the notion of overloading one particular halfspace, before actually attacking the other. Chelsea’s bread and butter was the mind games, and they displayed a keen interest in convincing City that they’d neglected the occasional threat before pouncing–this is a way City can use that same ruse against them.
By placing not one, but two, or even more ostensible targets in a cage, City would likely tittelate their opponents with glee. The prospect of bulldozing multiple bowling pins might prove too exciting for the barking cagefighters to even handle, but it’d all be a trick in the end.
In the clip below, 3 City players reside in the left halfspace. They’re drawing plenty of lip-licking attention by the Chelsea defense. Mahrez, likely unbeknownst to him, darts back to receive the ball while Rudi follows him as per Tuchel’s orders. With a spin on an absolute dime, the Algerian finds himself with a huge expanse of space, fewer players to congest things in general, and had it not been for a lackluster third touch that left the ball dragging behind him, may have penetrated even further.
The core principle, here, was to overload one side and switch to the other–another iconic verse from the JdP Bible. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to try again, and might even ground the groups faith in their own beliefs.
Idea three refers to Fullback Plucking. In a nearly identical manner as to how The Unzipper accessed the halfspaces by magnetizing a defender high and slipping in behind, this is that, but opted for the wings, instead. Reece James and Chilwell were excellent and avoiding any 1v1 confrontations by never letting City’s winger’s turn, but the exploitable angle here is that with some subtle shielding, the Manchester boys could theoretically pull the “call an ambulance!” card.
Which is to say, feign helplessness before smiling and pulling the trigger! By receiving with their backs to the field, just like Chelsea wants, Raz could continue to tug Reece up the line as he “tried to protect the ball”. These are moments in which most teams know to step up the entire line, and a bait that Chelsea would be likely to snatch, making it an ideal circumstance to lay the ball off and cut the act. A sharp exchange in behind can leave the spaces furthest from viable backup with a scary threat.
Overloads, now, can be made on the cagefighter who, engaged in a tough 2v1, won’t know who to pick up. This approach is less direct, in that it accesses a part of the pitch that requires more subsequent effort to reach goal, but was relatively untapped, save the sequence above. I really like the idea, especially if Tuchel opts for a slower and less-dynamic fullback choice like Azpi, with Christensen taking the piston role.
EPL Preview: The New Gamebreakers
Without making this a score prediction piece, nor writing a report on either of Chelsea or City’s more recent developments, I want to finish things by touching upon two obvious differences we’ll see on the field this Saturday: each team’s marquee summer signings.
On the one hand, Romelu Lukaku’s return has filled Chelsea fans’ striker-bully void since Drogba’s initial departure in 2012. The clinical striker has been a welcome change, especially when juxtaposed with newly-converted-luxury-bench-player Timo Werner’s sputtering campaign last year. When opportunities arise, Big Rom finishes his dinner. They can certainly count on that.
But an unintended consequence of this otherwise tremendous acquisition is that the new striker thrives in hold-up play. Using his strength to wait until his fellow teammates join him, laying off balls for Havertz and Mount driving inwards, before eventually getting on the end of some service, Lukaku’s quintessential, high-threat sequence is one that .. involves much more of his surrounding team.
The advantage of Werner, given The Blues’ low-block tactics, was that his movement was more of a one-man show. Chelsea could afford to sit back because all it took was one pass fired over the high City line for Timo to dash onto and create a strong chance. With the Belgian likely taking his place, this type of halffield sprint is less of a compelling attacking route. The new approach seems to be “find the target, then support him”, instead.
And so while Lukaku may very well bag a goal or two more than Werner would have (don’t get me wrong, he’s a ridiculously talented number nine), his overarching tactical demands may cause Chelsea to be drawn increasingly out of the block they’d, once, so firmly set. Each time a pass goes upfield, the fullbacks will push to get involved while the 10s cut inside to receive, and the whole team will shift forward. When this happens, I’m of the opinion that openings will become harder to close. Though City is hardly a counterattacking side, those may well be the moments in which capitalization is vital. Chelsea riches could also lead them to ruin.
On the other side of things, Jack Grealish also poses an interesting conundrum. With the widely-known propensity to draw the most fouls in the league, JG10 could be a handy solution to Chelsea’s efforts to innocuously deliver blows. In the UCL, few cards were drawn, and only when a City head was cracked open did people start to recognize how much dirt was being thrown after the play. But with the hair-slicked, thick-calved wizard, that won’t be the case. He’ll make it known, and he’ll make it count.
The Blues will find a thorn in their side if they try to push and pull City’s newest domestic import. Beyond Jackie’s obvious technical quality that can further challenge Chelsea’s defensive coordination, it’s his ability to not take shit from his opponents that could make him a delightful surprise this weekend. If Chelsea are given a yellow card, early, their confidence in clipping heels as a distraction may become interrupted. If the bruises lessen, it isn’t too far fetched to imagine a City side that feels less dinged-up and more comfortably in-the-groove.
Alongside these two headliners, there are two additional key factors, too: Kante and Fernandinho. Both need to play for their side to win.
Though it was the loathesome path of least resistance for journalists covering May’s final, Pep’s decision to not field a traditional 6 wasn’t really the nail in their coffin. It didn’t help, and Dinho certainly brought some additional “oomph” that his teammates were missing, but it’s clear that Tuchel’s orchestration was nearly perfect, regardless.
That being said, this time around, start the damn guy.
Fernandinho adds that grittiness to midfield, levelling the psychological pain-inflicting scales, but he also cuts out counters. His professional fouling is amongst the best the world has ever seen, and he’s skilled at avoiding cards, too. He can give Chelsea a taste of their own medicine.
But perhaps even more critically, assuming that the Stamford Bridge crowd will be excited to watch Romelu thrash Ruben and possibly Ake in Stones’ absence–his back-pressing will be critical to stymieing Lukaku’s dominant shielding. Pablo Mari recently became painfully aware of what happens when you get too close to Mr. Bolingoli, as well as how futile dropping way off can be. Despite the fact that Big Rom has literally explained how he turns defenders on YouTube, neither defensive approach will work.
Instead, a middle-ground proximity needs to be achieved. Whoever is holding him off must strike a balance while Dinho, as I’d propose on the pre-match whiteboard, needs to apply pressure from the other direction. If you can’t keep Chelsea’s striker from spinning, perhaps you can barge into him or nick the ball away, from the other side. Dinho can’t, and won’t get drawn too far forward. He’ll compress the space between the lines just like Chelsea did, and will play a pivotal role in preventing the new attacker’s influence. With Rodri’s knock likely keeping him out, I’m praying that Pep has no choice but to introduce the Brazilian.
On the London side, Kante’s deployment will also be essential for Chelsea’s efforts to repeat their success. Kovacic’s press resistance is exquisite, and Saul will be eager to erase his debut from memory, but Tuchel will need to field his only genuine ballon d’or candidate to play the ultimate trump card.
N’Golo has firmly established himself as the type of guy that, even if everything goes wrong, he can still patch the ship. It felt funny to include a Kante section in the analysis above, but he completely warrants one. Time and time again, he shuffled side to side to close down spaces, pipped the ball away from City, and used his seemingly infinite battery to maintain his intensity for the full 90.
This man is invaluable, and against a City side that will (as crazy as it sounds) now be entering as underdogs–freed of the weight of expectations and with vengeance of their own on the cards–his brake-pumping job will be more important than ever. With the little French 6, there may just be no way to get past Chelsea.
Final Thoughts
4 months ago, Chelsea ousted Man City at the pinnacle of world football. On the surface, it looked like the most unlikely of upsets, but upon further review, it’s become one of the most fascinating shows I’ve ever watched.
Thomas Tuchel, a man who’s publicly professed his admiration for Guardiola, and even faced an earlier version of him during his Dortmund days, designed a brilliant anti-JdP obliterator. He had intimately studied his enemy for years, and this was his chance to triumph.
By inverting positional play’s grid, he started by discombobulating his opponent. A team that thrived in specific spaces, especially, City floundered in the presence of this jarring new template. The usual spots weren’t spots at all, anymore–and this was just the start.
From here, he wavered strategically between completely and utterly shutting down Guardiola’s side, and beguiling them into getting trapped inside cages. His cagefighter innovation proved to be the ultimate tool that kept his opponent just dangling over the edge between blows. These methods were unlike anything I’d ever witnessed, and likely pretty new to Pep, too.
To add to the mix, Tuchel unleashed his legion of brass-knuckled warriors with a license to punch. Rudiger lead the physical charge, but everyone kicked and everyone prodded. City were already off their game, but this made yet another world of difference. They couldn’t settle into a rhythm, so wounded by Chelsea’s perpetual but carefully executed beatings that they grew more and more compelled to simply head for the lockerrooms. 15 after the half, their top player, and possibly the league’s finest, too, was knocked clean onto his back and out of the tournament for good. KDB’s face clutching agony was hard to stomach, but the lasting image from the match’s brutal proceedings.
Our friend Tommy did well to account for edge cases, too. He instructed his attackers to follow any bombarding efforts from deep, gave the front three eyes in the backs of their heads, and trained coverage exchanges like his players’ lives depended on it.
Yet, despite the immense performance, and the immaculate execution of it all, there were still a few tiny moments that showed promise. This upcoming weekend, perhaps rallied by Edouard Mendy’s inability to start over Kepa, the argumentative historical liability, City might do well to double down on a few of these little ideas. Amongst them, unzipping the halfspaces to reveal a far weaker back 4, overloading to give Chelsea a false sense of confidence in any particular cage, or yanking the fullbacks high to drive from the channels. We same glimpses of what could’ve been, but maybe now the tide will swing in the Mancunians favor.
Examining the factors for Saturday’s clash, two new signings will play a key role. Lukaku will excite everyone but might actually inadvertently detract from Chelsea’s defensive solidity. Grealish might put a stop to the uncarded fouling. He might also bang one in, too.
The 6s on either side may also tip the scales. Some careful new instructions for Fernandinho might help eliminate some of Lukaku’s threat, while Kante’s everlasting dynamism will be huge in stifling a City side out for revenge.
All in all, I’m not one to make arbitrary forecasts, but I’m excited for this weekend’s game. Ferran Torres might feature and complicate things if City try to be more direct down the middle. Joao Cancelo will likely start over the injured Zinchenko, and perhaps he’ll break the deadlock. CHO could get a run in at fullback and completely shut down Mahrez. Maybe Kepa will even come up with some impressive, full-extension saves. Regardless of how similar it is to last time, or how drastically different, I think we’re in for quite the treat.
At the end of the day, we study history so that it doesn’t repeat itself, or at least so we recognize when it does. I have faith that Pep’s looked this one over quite a bit–and might be in agreement with a few of my observations, too. Despite The Blues’ seeming invincibility right now, I feel as though Guardiola will, at least, be better prepared to take on the Chelsea conundrum. He’ll have new, clever ways of opening spaces, dodging pressure, and manipulating his opponent. He’ll have seen them before. Tuchel isn’t the hot new dude on the block anymore, either.
In any case, in a fixture full of exciting variables and potential surprises–only one thing’s for certain:
This time, it’s even harder to pick a clear winner.
‘Till next time.
For more discussion on the UCL Final, check out Episode 7 of the Pod, here.
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