In a match that was followed by an overwhelming degree of scorn from club fans, FC Barcelona’s weekend tie against a 10-man Deportivo Alaves was amongst their best games of the year. Allow me to explain.
With many starving for results in a post-Setien, now post-Bartomeu, highly-expectant Cule era, the draw was a damper on the positive Juve outcome from earlier in the week. And while the first half was admittedly abysmal, posing a lineup that raised eyebrows due to its ostensible reversion to old habits, namely older players, the latter 45 were nothing short of tremendous. Alaves put on a show that was lead by goalkeeper Pacheco’s man of the match worthy performance, and were cut short a man due to Jota Peleteiro’s unruly red card in the 62nd minute, but they were far from bulletproof. Time after time, they granted Barcelona chances, but came up fortuitously with miraculous goal-line blocks and a problematically irresolute Blaugrana cannon. But by juxtaposing the match alongside Barcelona’s comparatively appalling response to going up a man to Osasuna, in the match that ultimately sealed Real Madrid’s La Liga Title win from last season, we note an utterly transformed team. Full of desire, urgency, and creativity, supplemented by what appeared to be the first well-timed touchline tactical adjustment in Barca’s recent coaching history, The Koeman Boys looked like they’d finally found the oil for their previously creaky machine. Thus, the final score will upset many and draw plenty of concern regarding the ginger boss’ short-term future at the club, but I’ve confidently categorized the performance as a moral victory. Rebuilding simply doesn’t happen overnight, and the growing pains must be endured for progress. Patience, Culers–your time is coming.
An Essential Contextual Lens: The Osasuna Juxtaposition
Out of context, just about anything loses its significance. But after writing what had essentially been my first published match report on Barcelona v Osasuna earlier this year, it was impossible not to compare the reactions Setien and Koeman’s iterations of the Azulgrana had to earning a numerical advantage in the second half. While the former stuttered, had great difficulty in accepting the boon that was the wide open flanks on either side, displayed lackluster desire to regain possession in the midfield, and more, this newfangled Barcelona couldn’t have been more dissimilar. It is for that reason that I’ll routinely compare the actions from this match to those from just a few months ago.
Opportune Substitutions
The first game-changing factor came from the hands of Ronald Koeman. Having been criticized for his late substitutions in the team’s loss to Getafe the week prior, he answered critics by reshaping the team in the halftime tunnel. A clip of those taken off showed several downtrodden futbolistas, but the decision utterly altered the course of the match. I’d hope that those switched out at the half understand that the choices were more tactical than personal (and ultimately quite fruitful).
The first of such switches was Trincao for Dembele. The ex-Dortmund lad, having recently returned to fitness, had begun to hit some semblance of the quality Barcelona had hoped for at the onset of his now three years with the club. His explosiveness has the potential to break games wide open, while his eagerness to take players on 1v1 is a unique attribute that’s otherwise lacking in Barcelona’s front line, outside of Messi. Griezmann could be considered a solid dribbler, as could Coutinho, or Ansu, but none are as convincingly tricky as the Frenchman. As such, he provides another threatening dimension to the attack. Against Juventus, his sweeping gambetta is what ultimately earned the first of two goals, ultimately finding the net after a deflection, but a reminder of his capabilities. He’s an incredibly two-footed player with tremendous pace—and that’s exactly why he wasn’t right for this matchup.
Dembele is the type of player you want on the ball in space. He thrives in environments that allow him to run freely, more so that squeeze through densely packed quarters. For that reason, against inferior opposition that are likely to line up with a low block and not press high up the field, he’s best left on the bench. For teams that will attack Barcelona, and/or those that will seek to regain possession via high press, he’s the ultimate weapon. Juve came out with no intention, at least initially, of dropping off and protecting their box like Alaves did, meaning Dembele had the time to build up speed and take those signature long touches into space behind defenders.
Thus, Koeman’s spot-on substitution was to introduce the newly-signed Portuguese winger, Trincao—whose skillset couldn’t be further from Dembele’s. Instead of demanding the ball to feet for him to run with it, Trincao excels at runs in behind the defense, particularly from deep. His timing is perhaps his most impressive quality as a 21 year old. When an opponent puts 10 men behind the ball, this penetrating ability off-the-ball can be the secret to destabilizing their fortress. If you can’t go through them, go around, or even over. Just check out his preseason assist vs. Girona for proof.
He’s also a volume shooter by comparison to Dembele. As we’ll discuss in greater detail further on, one of Barcelona’s weaknesses in moments like these is their general reluctance to deliver blows. Though several of his shots were either blocked by sliding defenders or taken care of by the keeper, a player with the ambition to challenge the goal can cause low blocks to be drawn out to protect it, creating options elsewhere. One of the archetypal tactics against a receded defensive line is to fire from distance, which Trincao much more readily does, when compared to Ousmane.
Thus, the substitution here was not an indictment of Dembele’s ability, but rather his lack of suitability for a game of this nature. He started, had several successful dribbling efforts, but was often and predictably suffocated by several defenders at once. Barca needed someone to creatively look to break lines without the rock at their feet, and Trincao served much better in that role.
The subsequent change was that of Pjanic for Busquets. I’m typically not one to be too reactionary when it comes to individual player performances, but if El Clásico wasn’t enough of an indicator that Busquets needs to find an alternative role within the squad, its hard to see what will truly make that apparent for the coaching staff. Perhaps the assumption was that Alaves would play at a slower pace, one Busquets would be more comfortable picking apart, but his immobility and uncharacteristically haphazard passing were terribly hard to ignore in the opening 45. The former midfield visionary misplaced pass after pass, was unconvincing defensively, and lacked the dynamism to switch the field of play with enough speed to destabilize the opposition.
His replacement served that role, once again, fantastically. Though Pjanic is largely known to be a fairly immobile player, himself, his general agility and deliberateness about his passes showed much more strongly in the second half of the match. When a team compacts itself, it’s well documented that their reach across the field is limited. Within the pedagogy of defensive shape and pressing, there exists this idea that a defensive unit can be analogized to a small blanket that’s only able to only cover certain parts of one’s body, or in our case, the field. You can move the blanket to warm your feet, or your torso, or your arms, but it can’t protect everything at once; if you try to stretch it over your entire body, the fabric will break. The same applies in football. Alaves sought to condense and move their blanket across the field to cover the route to goal as the ball moved around the pitch. Driving straight through the heart of a tightly knit blanket has proven to be tough in the past, even for maestros like Messi, so the best option involves routing the ball around it. You swing the ball to one corner of the pitch, overload it, attract the blanket all the way to that side, before swiftly changing focus to the opposite end. After enough consecutive switches, the defense will inevitably lose their coordinated rhythm and open up gaps to exploit. Pjanic’s sharpness enabled just that.
While Busquets was rusty in his execution, the Bosnian looked energized, invested in the match, and full of ideas. His attempt at playing several final-balls also meant his distribution was more incisive and less conservative. With low blocks, it becomes very easy to feebly pass the ball in front of the opposition lines. If they refuse to be drawn out and pressure you, you might find solace in these high-percentage passes, but that might be precisely what the enemy is hoping for. So long as you continue to let time dwindle, passing fruitlessly and far from goal, they’re unlikely to be bothered. As such, a player with greater inspiration to try threaded through balls, longer-range switches, and so forth, was more equipped to unsettle the opponent in a match like this.
Thirdly, and similarly to the logic surrounding Trincao’s substitution, Pjanic has an excellent shot on him. By contrast, Busquets has made a career out of being the unsung hero. He doesn’t score, and rarely even gets assists, meaning his stats are far from impressive on paper. He’s the metronome that Barca haven’t been able to live without for the past decade, but in tricky moments that demand individual valor, he’s hardly someone to look towards for a game-changing spark. Busi found the net twice last year, and twice between 2014 and 2018. He’s not the persona you need on the field when down a goal and fighting to get through a parked bus.
The final halftime adjustment was that of Pedri for Lenglet. And though the tiny Spanish midfielder played an exquisite defensive match, he wasn’t brought on as a CB—but rather to shift things around from multiple angles. Dropping to the central defensive position was Frenkie de Jong, instead, who had actually occupied that role at times during his career with Ajax, while Pedri supplemented Messi in creating chances higher up the field. And boy oh boy how successful this change was.
To start, though Lenglet has arguably become Barcelona’s most reliable defender over the past season, his erratic tendency to give up fouls has become a recent red flag. Tugging Sergio Ramos’ jersey in a somewhat arguable, but ultimately quite fateful, penalty call during El Clásico, his propensity to earn reckless calls makes him a liability, and in games like these that involve rapidly darting counterattackers as the sole offensive effort on behalf of the opposition team, the likelihood that he would’ve had to make a professional foul in the second half was quite high. Booked in the 44th minute, this wasn’t a narrative Koeman wanted to continue to highlight, hence part of why he was substituted.
The second reason was more engrained in the evolution of Barca’s shape in the match. Since the team knew their opponents wouldn’t have too many well-assembled attacking schemes, they made the shrewd decision to deem one of their two CBS as superfluous. Why have two players on the field who sole job is to take care of the occasional desperate kamikaze runner, when the bulk of their job will be spent on the ball seeking to start attacks? It’s truly a genius realization.
When I analyzed Barca’s frustrating ineffectiveness against Osasuna, it was noted that Pique and Lenglet suffered as the primary distributors of the ball. Possession would often involve them circulating it back and forth ahead of the opposition, often finding trouble when it came to pick out specific targets. By pulling Frenkie further back, Barca began nearly every attack with him. Instead of Lenglet, they now had one of the best passers in the world, and a much more attuned option for pinpoint distribution from deep. In order to compliment this position shift, Pjanic often receded as the right-sided pseudo-centerback, allowing Pique to serve as the only genuine defender in the center, while Roberto, Alba, and eventually Dest pushed high to occupy the channels. In doing so, switching across the backline allowed for the ball to transition between highly capable hands, leaving Pique with little to no distribution responsibilities. The three-pronged pivot also enabled the receivers of those switches to occupy the highly spatially-advantageous half spaces, with cover in behind by the classical defender. It’s optimal for a game of this sort.
Thus, Koeman craftily inverted the problem of trying to get his 6s on the ball. Why take a mediocre passer like a CB and force them to find a better one amidst multiple collapsing defenders, when you can simply hand it to that midfielder under no pressure? Even more so, why force those deep-lying playmakers to turn swiftly in crowded pockets, when creative 10s like Messi or Pedri can do it instead, and with greater dribbling effectiveness? All around, an excellent approach to the low block conundrum.
And so, speaking of, Pedri’s inclusion not-only enabled improved distribution from deep, but also removed much of the creative onus from Messi’s shoulders. By playing ball after ball into the final third, Pedri’s stellar display meant Leo could occupy more threatening goal-scoring positions. This meant that he was more often found at the culmination of a passing sequence than at the beginning, making it harder for the defense to predict where they ought to shift their blanket. Messi still maintained some of his typical progressions, collecting the ball near Pjanic and Frenkie on multiple occasions to drive from deep, but he became more of a target for the final ball as the clocked approached 90. His atypically poor dribbling display demanded that someone else take the role of primary creator, and Pedri was the perfect man for the job.
But beyond freeing Messi, Pedri also displayed a tremendous degree of unpredictability himself. Nearly every pass he played was disguised, using his body shape to suggest that he’d play a ball in one direction, before subtly contorting and finding someone opposite his supposed target. He was highly effective on the dribble, eluding several defenders in and around the box, too. His flicks were on full display, scooping a ball over the defensive line in one play, backheeling a pass to Trincao inside the 18 only seconds later, and more. The kid’s vision meant he was able to pick out his Portuguese friend’s run in from deep with a near-perfectly weighted ball through several Alaves defenders—a scintillating moment that, for a second, showed the true brilliance of Barca’s young future.
To culminate his best performance in the Azulgrana kit, Pedri also defended with potent energy and intensity. Much like Riqui Puig’s displays from the previous campaign, his smaller frame leads most to underestimate his tackling capabilities, but he’s proven to be an exceptional winner of the ball. We’ll dive into this in greater detail, in a bit.
Thus, Ronald Koeman swiftly converted a drab, unsuitable lineup into something novel and exciting. These changes then set the tone for the rest of the match’s tinkering.
Gegenpressing: Revamped, The Guardiola Model Returns to Camp Nou
Jurgen Klopp’s modern brand of football is one that champions pressing the counterattack. It’s a methodology that goes along with his punk, energetic brand of darting football, but however emblematic of the ideology the German might be, the philosophy didn’t solely originate with him back in Dortmund. Rather, the seedlings for such an idea were planted in Barcelona’s soil by Pep Guardiola himself, promoting a tactic known as the 6-second rule during his time in Spain. The notion was simple: after losing possession, the team had 6 seconds to win it back. Against Alaves, Barca held onto an 80% of the ball, giving their opponent few opportunities to carefully orchestrate attacks, and this was largely due to their adherence to a sapling idea that has started to bloom once again.
But Koeman’s apparent version of counterpressing has emerged as a crossbreed between Klopp and Guardiola’s principle ideas. Klopp’s movements throw men towards the ball in a more erratic fashion, while Guardiola’s teams look to cut out options in nearby vicinities, forcing teams long and to opt for generally low percentage passes. The first idea seeks to destabilize while the second is made to suffocate. Klopp would also likely view his counterpressing or “Gegenpressing” approach as the ideal way to catalyze a new attack, whereas Guardiola prefers to win the ball back, recirculate, and try again–a more calculated and less direct approach. Fascinatingly enough, the Barca squad, lead by a miniature-statured Pedri’s energetic efforts, sought to amalgamate both styles.
After losing possession, instead of recuperating defensive position by retreating and condensing, the team opted for the more seemingly counter-intuitive method of continuing their forward momentum. If a ball was played and intercepted, members of the squad didn’t retreat, but rather kept running forward–a marked difference compared to what we’ve seen in the past.
With Alaves transitioning from a defensive-minded 4-1-4-1 into a hybrid 5-2-2 / 5-3-1 as the game wore on, there posed little counterattacking threat high up the field. If a progressing attack was thwarted early, the team would save time otherwise spent recuperating a lanced ball bouncing over their heads. The sight of onrushing defenders is also awfully unsettling for the player regaining possession, often causing increased haste in their decision-making process.
With this forward thinking approach to defense, Barcelona gave off an impression of serious intent. Every time a pass didn’t arrive at point B, the team threw the nearest player directly at the ball, sprinting at full speed, and quite effectively forcing Alaves to panic. This approach allowed Barcelona to be more adventurous in possession, wasting less time dawdling on the ball, and more time trying to efficiently create scoring opportunities. Barcelona created a fear-reducing structure for themselves, one that eliminated the pain of retrieving long balls and covering well-orchestrated counters, while giving players on the ball greater comfort in trying higher-risk higher-reward moves. If they lost possession, it wasn’t a huge deal, as a bomber pilot would peel off and charge the Alaves interceptor, often resulting in a rapid reset with the ball at Frenkie or Pjanic’s feet.
At times, however, Barca didn’t refresh and start over. On multiple occasions the team took advantage of a destabilized Alaves in hopeful possession, and attacked directly behind them after pressing and winning the ball. During the rare moments in which Alaves countered, they tended to commit quite a few men forward, with the obvious desire to capitalize on the rare handful of chances they’d generated. While Osasuna kept their team at bay, and left a marauding Estupinian to wreak havoc down the left flank, Los Babozorros chose to fully invest in their counterattacking chances, despite lacking the quality to string together a tidy sequence in nearly every iteration. As such, they left themselves increasingly exposed and with space between the lines for Barcelona’s players to penetrate. These moments were gladly taken by the Azulgrana, as several instance of gegenpressing led to an immediate penetration on the dribble by the man that regained possession.
This birthed several high-octane periods of intensity that has become somewhat antithetical with the Barca approach over the past decade. Pep’s tiki taka ideology was a challenge of skillset, almost as if to say, “set up however you’d like, and we’ll still find a way through”. But instead of carefully wearing teams down and demoralizing them with a brutal extended game of monkey in the middle, The Koeman Boys sought to attack with speed and purpose when their opponents were out of position. Almost reminiscent of, dare I say, Bayern Munich during their unobstructed run to the Champions League trophy this past summer, the runs in behind were sharp and the counters kept me on the edge of my seat. They also gradually killed off Alaves’ hopes of pursuing all three points, as they progressively resorted to booting the ball high and wide as the half persisted, afraid of departing too far from their trenches.
Mentality Shift: Urgency and Contribution
Another facet of Barcelona’s improved performance was a new-look level of desire from members within the squad—particularly the new faces. From the off, the players appeared engaged and interested in doing the little things to preserve precious time on the clock, a hard-to-coach intangible that can make a proper difference. This statement was first made by Koeman’s early substitutions that allowed new players to become engrained in the game with more time to influence the result. In particular, dead ball situations, often the lengthiest time-suck in football, were greatly expedited by the establishment of an environment that respected the clock before it became “too little too late”. By setting the precedent of meeting the game’s exigencies, Ansu Fati was found wrestling for balls to quickly take free kicks, Pjanic could be seen sprinting to the flag to swiftly take corners, and Pedri was always running to retrieve throw-ins. This ensured that the game never slowed to a lull at any given moment, maintaining rhythm, concentration, and constant intimidation. In the video below, it’s only the 73rd minute, yet the Blaugrana are fighting as if it were the 95th.
This energy was collective–and so was the spirit of creative input. In the past few years, when the team has started to run on fumes, all eyes turn to Messi for moments of heroism, but this away fixture showed promising signs of ownership, elsewhere. For starters, Griezmann scored. A huge boon for his confidence, a delicate chip that was previously his trademark before joining a club with arguably the best chip-master in history, finished off a gegenpressed-counter with style. The shot itself was hardly trivial, with Laguardia swiping a hand across the ponytailed Frenchman’s back twice, in a last-gasp effort to imbalance him, before the slightest of touches guided the ball over Pacheco’s outstretched arm. It’s a true striker’s goal, but one that was sniffed out by a recently struggling player, whose been unable to consistently find the onion bag since he arrived from Sergeant Simeone’s headquarters. Antoine drawing the tally mark on the scoreboard served as a harbinger for a unified attacking effort.
Against Osasuna, Ansu Fati, in particular, appeared to consistently offload responsibility unto other players. He’d find the ball with space to run into, and play it negative, instead. This match, perhaps motivated by his recent callup to the Spanish National Team at age 17, La Liga September Player of the Month Award, or his birthday on matchday, Ansu played with greater impetus, too. He drove at defenders, moved off the ball intelligently, and was yet another distraction for El Glorioso to manage, besides Barca’s fabled number ten.
Trincao and Pedri, too, marked the self-sufficiency of Messi’s supporting cast. The two, in particular, exchanged passes between themselves, with Trincao frequently darting in behind the defense while Pedri waited until just the right moment to slot one in towards him. They’ve already seemed to develop a lovely chemistry.
Even Sergi Roberto, a player who tends to drift inwards to his former central midfield role–or the trademark “push wide, pull the ball back, and hand it off to a receded right-wing Argentine” progression that saw Nelson Semedo shipped off to Wolverhampton for his purported lack of innovation–found greater comfort combining independently with other players in wide channels.
Football is a collective, and especially in Spain where passing networks are the predominant mode of transport, but this notion ought not yield the submission to one mettlesome player. The “team” aspect of football is defeated if each futbolista simply admits that their understanding of the game is inferior to the greatest player of all time, lacing up beside them. Of course it is, as is everyone’s, but that shouldn’t stop you (a likely brilliant athlete in your own right, as indicates the contract that employs you at one of the premiere clubs in the world) from designing something of your own. The biggest Achilles heel during Messi’s tenure at the Camp Nou has been surrounding players that lack the bravery to be themselves, regardless of the fact that they’re inherently “worse” than he is. When the collective metamorphoses into a funnel and a focal point, it loses it’s functionality all together. This has been Griezmann and Coutinho’s history of struggle with Barcelona.
And so seemingly, ever since Neymar left the Spanish Coast to learn the language of le ballon d’or, and Iniesta’s expanded his brand to Asia, the Barcelona squad has lacked players that won’t instantly acquiesce to Messi’s every move or demand. The effectiveness of that addictive overreliance has started to hit the skids, as the bumps and bruises Messi has suffered over the years of triple and quadruple teaming have begun to take their toll on his aging body. To combat this mystifyingly toxic tactic, the spirit Koeman has appeared to imbue within the lineup is one of collaborative contribution, in which players indeed continue to work together, but aren’t afraid to try things individually. As such, moments are carefully picked, but each brilliant talent has greater chances to shine on their own. This boosts confidence, fosters agency, and cultivates a greater sense of belonging and safety within the team. Each player has more freedom, and as a result, so does the group. Defenses now have to mark Ansu, who’s scored more than Leo this season so far, dragging pressure away from Messi. They might also need to watch out for Griezmann if he starts to hit form, Coutinho, Dembele, Trincao, Pedri, and others. It’s an overwhelmingly positive result for the collective, when the individuals each take initiative of their own.
Hop in, We’re Taking the Flank Highway
Against Osasuna, a miserable compilation of around 50 Ansu Fati touches from width, towards the center of the field, indicated a mentality that shunned the corners of the field. Against low blocks, these spaces are virtuous, as they never contain the same density of players as the center. When a team is parking the bus, they’ll put CBs and CDMs and others in front of the goal, and frequently opt to neglect the channels. They’re less of a direct threat, and with the same blanket analogy from earlier, they must use their fabric resources wisely. Cover the wings, and you leave yourself exposed in the middle. Cover the middle, and well, the wings are left unoccupied.
But when matched up with an extra man against Los Rojillos back in late July, one might’ve asked whether Setien’s staff had spotted quicksand along the edges of the field, and warned his players accordingly; they simply refused to attack in the channels. Barca has, historically, lined up with inverted wingers, which is to say that they enjoy cutting inside and shooting, rather than driving wide and crossing the ball in. This is, in part, due to a consistent lack of aerial threat at the nine for Barcelona, and further reinforced by the quality of the marksmen the team has had out wide for generations. Why make Thierry Henry, David Villa, or Leo Messi cross the ball when they can terrorize the interior, instead?
After generations of this inward inclination, teams have started to figure out how to defend La Blaugrana. If you pack the middle, even the best of dribblers and shooters will have to break through various sheets of Kevlar before their bullets can ripple the net. And, if a team like Barcelona simply insists on driving through the heart, there’s truly no need to be concerned with the extremities. As a result, the field shrinks into an even easier plot of land to mark, depicted below. When Osasuna drew their wingbacks between the width of the 18, and as part of a back five, they challenged Barca to take the width if they wanted it. You be the judge of which path is easier, one in which the corners are self-eliminated, or one where they are freely granted and freely taken.
This mentality is a product of stubbornness, and a refusal to adapt to circumstances. Koeman certainly wouldn’t have any of that. Instead, Messi, Ansu, Roberto, and others were all able to find strong chances by attacking the width. Time after time in the second half, some of the best opportunities to score came from moves in which the outside route was taken over the internal one.
This reduced predictability and forced Alaves’ fullbacks wider than they were against Osasuna. This left only two or, at most, three centerbacks to deal with an onslaught comprised of two tens, two wingers, a roaming striker, and two fullbacks–hardly an easy task.
In the clip above, the ball is sent out wide to Trincao and Roberto, who, despite Manu Garcia (19)’s tactical instruction to avoid over-overloading the flank, draw two Alaves players out past the 18 yard box’s width. Examining the rest of the team’s spacing, the centerbacks are much farther stretched than Osasuna’s were, as are the central midfielders, with the opposing wingback extremely far on the opposite side too. Thus, though Garcia might’ve been instructed to let Barca take the flanks and keep his team compact on the inside, the enticed defenders and generally spread blue & whites caused the Babazorros to tear their precious blanket.
Once the ball made its return to the interior, Messi, Pjanic, and Pedri were pleased to find much more space to work with. Nearly the entire Alaves line had been flattened into one linear constellation, whose lack of staggering made it much easier to make runs in behind. Though the sequence was ultimately unsuccessful, the efforts weren’t far off, and it was once again encouraging to see so many different players try their trade at breaking through the opposing line.
Progressions like these transpired due to a newfound appreciation for what the flanks can offer. By attacking them regularly, they forced Alaves to protect them (in fear that Barca would score via this route). Eventually, this decongested the center. Players whose hearts beat to the sound of circulating rondos rarely need such open prairie to succeed, but if granted it, they’re certain to showcase their quality. If the goal was to stymie Barca’s creative forces by building up traffic down the main road, intelligent usage of the pitch’s horizontality was the perfect remedy–and it’s about time they figured that out.
Lifting the Creative Onus off of Messi’s Shoulders
Along with the spatial redistribution that tore Alaves’ blanket, the “collective individual ambition” discussed earlier was specifically highlighted by Pedri’s assumption of Messi’s artist role. I’d hate to undermine the importance of Ansu revitalizing the LW, or Trincao’s line-breaking cuts, but for all the passing prowess Barcelona is known for, their troubles in past years have come in the form of a shortage of assists, just as much as they have a shortage of goals, outside of Leo’s involvement. Shoring up the goal-scoring onus is critical but only one part of a fundamental lack of stats contribution. In order for Koeman’s men to truly find their groove during Messi’s twilight years, they’ll need to find someone capable of providing the pass before the shot, a role players like Kevin De Bruyne and Thomas Muller have been able to reinvent and truly own.
When we glance at previous years’ stats sheets, a series of alarming trends are uncovered.
The first is that Barca hasn’t had a midfielder lead them in assists since Cesc Fabregas in 2013/2014. Before him was Iniesta in 2012/2013, but since then it’s been Messi atop the leaderboards every single time, save Luis Suarez in 2015/2016 and 2016/2017. That being said, we’re aware that the stereotypical Barca midfielder mold is not an incisive passer looking to break lines, but rather a metronomic player that rarely ever appears on the stats sheet. Touched upon earlier when discussing Pjanic’s sub in for Busquets, these qualities create unsung heroes but often unload the playmaking responsibility unto others–particularly the front three (including Neymar, Suarez, Messi, Alexis Sanchez, Pedro, and others) or the fullbacks (namely Dani Alves, Jordi Alba, and Sergi Roberto). Recent Barca’s signings (and now, departures) like Arthur Melo earned just 1 assist in 27 appearances back in 2018/2019, followed by 3 in 21 matches this past year. Ivan Rakitic had a somewhat strong 8 assists in his first year with the Blaugrana, but slowed in subsequent seasons with just 2 the next year, then 5, then 3, 5 again, and 3 again. Starlet signing Frenkie de Jong, whose role couldn’t have been highlighted more in this match, still only earned a grand total of 2 assists this past season, too. Coutinho, who I lumped in with the midfielders for the sake of this discussion, made 5 assists during his Freshman year, and only 2 the following one. You can argue that Barcelona’s central midfielders aren’t designed to play the final ball, but when your keeper (Marc Andre Ter Stegen) generates the same number of assists as your starting CM (Busquets, each with 2 assists in 2019/2020), it’s hard to ignore the lack of productivity. Even more so, if the signings brought into the 10 or creative role are struggling to break duck, they’ve defeated the purpose of their introduction into the squad.
If we zoom out a little, we note an even more concerning trend: the overall downfall of total assists since 2012’s highly impressive 91 total. Since then, this expression of overall collaborativeness has diminished to 71 in 2013/2014, followed by 79, 79, 70, 58, 61, and most recently 62 in 2019/2020. If we normalize those values by subtracting Messi’s contributions in each respective year, it’s an even clearer picture. In 2012/2013, the Barca squad put up 80 assists by players that weren’t named Messi. The next season, that value dropped to 60, then 61, 63, 61, 46, 48, and 41 this past season. And herein lies the problem.
A steady decline in assists that don’t come off Messi’s feet means that Barcelona have relied more and more on his gradually diminishing output since the turn of the decade. These numbers are the backbone of a fairly obvious inkling Barca fans have had for years—namely that Messi needs more help than what he’s getting.
Thus, the introduction of a player of Pedri’s profile and calibre signifies an exciting potential shift in the right direction. He popped up in the same standard zones as Messi typically does, but more left-side oriented, and was somehow terrifically skilled at ensuring they were never booking a double occupancy at any given time. This has long been the great concern—players like Coutinho or Griezmann had been previously criticized for being of a somewhat similar mold to Leo, making it hard to find places for them to nestle into the starting XI. But what Pedri does is different.
And so while the 17 year old found those pockets, he enabled Messi to weave his magic elsewhere, or simply with less responsibility of orchestrating every single attack. Pedri carved balls into the final third, slotted passes through the defense, and did everything nostalgic Culés will remember of the great Andres Iniesta, though we ought to hold off any comparisons for the sake of the youngster paving his own path.
Needless to say, it’s an exciting emerging duo at the ten. Pedri’s been classified as a left midfielder, but he excels at the top of the box breaking down low blocks like this Alaves stronghold. He’s got dazzling feet, an exquisite first touch, and is still rough around several edges—but the early signs are there. He has potential to be Barcelona’s next miniature talisman.
Vacillation: Barcelona’s Fatal Flaw
With all the praise I’ve unloaded onto the Catalan side, we might reasonably wonder: why didn’t they earn a victory? And as far as I’m concerned, it comes down to one offensive and one defensive bullet point. From an attacking perspective, Barca were shockingly hesitant to pull the trigger—and though chances were created, time and time again, there seemed few that were willing to take the initiative to be the final passing destination, light up a spark, and fire in the hole. This dearth of goalward appetency, coupled with an especially tepid lack of clinicality when shots were eventually taken, affirmed the pink and black outfit’s specious ferocity in front of goal. Tricky wizards abundant, the team beguiled their way into the final third ad nauseam, but failed to display the necessary ruthlessness when it mattered most—and paid the price for it.
Part of of the beauty of the Spanish attacking approach is the holy virtue of patience. The ball is worked around with no seeming sense of urgency, tiring the opposition until they eventually tear at the seams of their 15% possession and break character. It’s a tale of composed decomposition, but one that ultimately falters if it isn’t adhered to in its wholeness. The manner in which Barca probed and probed was disquieting, due to it’s failure to remember the Yang to the Spanish design’s Yin: when the opportunity arises, go! The crux of vintage Guardiola and del Bosque’s forbearing style is that rare, albeit eventual, moment when the defense gives in—and La Blaugrana were simply unable to capitalize. Possession football prioritizes selflessness, but if none of the on-field eleven are willing to showcase a bit of audacity, it withers.
Thus for all the effort and evident improvement the team displayed with regards to their ball retention and ball re-retention, the score line reflected an ultimately anticlimactic 90 minutes. Tease after tease, the Alaves goal finished the second half unadulterated by Culé efforts, and the points were split at the whistle.
Pacheco Masterclass
The second factor in Barcelona’s shortcomings was less in their hands—and much more so in those of a valiant Pachecoian wall constructed at the Camp Nou. I frankly don’t know what else to say. Nothing shy of a MOTM outing, the Alaves keeper made save after vital save to keep tightening the bolts on a box of Catalan incredulousness. The fingernail save on Messi’s quintessential inside cut and finish left the bionic flea cursing the heavens. His save on Pjanic’s knuckled cannon from range was tremendous, too, as was a strong handed parry on Ansu’s shot from the wing. As if he needed the assistance, the Alaves defenders valiantly protected the sticks, too. Twice, goal line clearances salvaged the draw, continuing Barcelona’s dry spell frustration, and bestowing even more confidence in the keeper’s aggressive shot stopping ability. Barcelona left much to be desired with their shooting precision, but it wasn’t facilitated by a certain Superman in the opposition net.
Final Thoughts
Barcelona are at a turning point. With tumult off the field, the world’s lens has been focused sharply on the Blaugrana, eagerly anticipating their faltering steps. And though the team certainly has areas in which to improve, football, as is everything else in life, must be put into context. As an elite team in La Liga, the games that often decide your title winning chances are more-so the niggly, small sides that compact their lines and begin the countdown until it’s all over, than the ones that will be eager to match you in attack-minded playstyle. After all, matches like Osasuna in last year’s season proved to be the final nail in Barcelona’s coffin. Thus, assessing the circumstances and arriving at a methodology for breaking teams of that nature is utterly crucial for long-term success in the table. With COVID-19 increasing the injury and fatigue toll on squads, while international duties have hardly ameliorated the issue, I’d be hardly surprised if we saw more and more teams sit back and look to conserve energy over the course of the season. As proclaims the old adage, “it’s a marathon, not a race”.
If so, these tactics will be deployed with even greater frequency. Against Alaves, Barcelona, despite struggling in various areas, displayed that there’s a plan in place to tackle that–and it’s being practiced. With enough iterations (opportunities for which will be plentiful), they’ll be hard to stop. The tools are all there, the blueprint’s been drafted, and the engineer at the helm doesn’t seem to flinch when it comes to making the tough decisions. I’m hugely optimistic about the future.
Till next time.
