As it stands, Pep Guardiola appears to have had the right idea. Manchester City’s ambition for a subsequent double treble could now only be described as a “theoretical fantasy”.
Guardiola perfectly expressed this concept prior to Wednesday’s second-leg game against Real Madrid, indicating that his visions are laden with theories, algebra, and hypothetical situations, akin to a football-focused interpretation of Evelyn Waugh’s character Silenus. Silenus, a modernist architect, spends his nights engaged in rapid calculations, culminating in the creation of another machine-age marvel with the break of dawn.
In numerous respects, the match between City and Real Madrid, ending in a 1-1 draw after extra time and a 4-4 aggregate, resulting in a 3-4 defeat on penalties, was a masterclass. The game was extraordinarily engaging – brimming with underlying meaning and continuous story. Even during the more excruciating moments of repetition, it conveyed a significant message to us.
For the impartial observer, it should be pleasing that City won’t be repeating their treble success. After all, the spectacle of witnessing the same team clinch an unheard-of double treble might have been tediously divisive. This rings especially true in this context.
It’s an indication of our times when Real Madrid’s victory, in a tournament forged from capital, for capital, to benefit future capital, could be viewed as a triumph for the underdog. Many City supporters would naturally cast their team in the role of the challenger in this competition, however, it requires a degree of mental gymnastics to truly accept that perspective.
Lastly, it’s worthwhile to keep in mind the true purpose of the City project. At its core, it is a PR venture organized by a sovereign nation with a contentious human rights record, with the objective of fostering a post-fossil fuel economy. [ Pep Guardiola expressed no regrets following Manchester City’s departure from the Champions League ]
Self-proclaimed as the wealthiest football club globally, City has been heavily investing in the sport, fueled by a billionaire’s ambition. This makes a mockery of football’s laughably ineffective governance, considering this as a foreign policy sport. This is also backed by the false notion that the Abu Dhabi ruling monarchy is breaking up a monopoly, representing the underdog in the face of a privileged class.
This spectacle, though grotesque on many levels, is not unique, given other hyper-incompetent hedge-bro owners. Paradoxically, this has cast Real Madrid in the underdog light, making another semi-final for a team valued at $1 billion seem like a triumph of sport against the machine. Kudos to everyone involved in shaping this populist game.
However, there is a technical and substantive aspect to this. Why would Real Madrid’s pursuit to the brink of fatigue, resulting in victory with the final kick, appear as a peculiar form of sporting elegance? Why is the sight of City’s superbly tuned machine testing its own thresholds so satisfying?
At present, an understated tactical debate is underway, partly sparked by the successful implementation of Pep’s approach. Jamie Hamilton, a coach and tactical theorist, has named this Positionism (strict zonal play) against Relationism (organised spontaneity, non-zonal attack). City epitomizes the Positionist team, focusing mainly on control and utilizing players as system supports.
Carlo Ancelotti, leading up to the match, claimed that these types of games are ‘player-owned’, a statement Pep is not likely to agree with.
Relationism suggests a method where players are provided structured freedom, attacks based on spontaneous combinations. This results in a play that is less predictable, less premeditated, and primarily dependent on momentary decision-making. This is the standard play for Madrid. They are inadvertent Relationists.
It’s quite effortless to overlook the dichotomy within this framework, considering that every system is bound to have a blend of elements to a certain extent. Delving too deep into these concepts might lead to their gradual evaporation. However, it was undeniable that the confrontation between City and Madrid offered an intense and engaging juxtaposition. Even while defending, Madrid’s players, to a certain extent, arrange themselves spontaneously. In their offensive, they rely on their unique style, which leans more towards creativity, impulsiveness, and individualism.
Jude Bellingham referred to it as spontaneous play. In the preparation for the match, Carlo Ancelotti made a remark indicating that such matches are “owned by the players”. Pep, whose voice can be heard in City’s Netflix documentary insisting about how sport and life are essentially about body language, particularly after a Carabao Cup loss at Southampton, would probably never utter such words.
The initial half at Etihad was apparently a clash of these systems, Madrid’s fast and erratic counterattacks alongside Bellingham’s cool alpha-male offensive abilities testing City’s defensive line.
The secondary half was analogous to watching Positionism throw itself head-first, City trying to dominate this tenacious and talented adversary through sheer number of repetitions, firmly believing that the system will eventually prevail if it retains its consistency. City took 47 shots throughout the match yet it felt like they were somewhat meandering in most parts of it. Kevin De Bruyne delivered the ball into the Madrid area 21 times on Wednesday night to no avail. What was the reasoning behind such consistent attempts?
Towards the end, the match had morphed into a struggle, with City’s players bringing themselves to the brink of fatigue chasing the win. Perhaps a non-systemic approach lacking, for example, the intuitive creativity of Cole Palmer, who has thrived in a disjointed Chelsea side, liberated by the absence of a rigid system to fully realize his capabilities, was noticeable. By contrast, City deployed their player, Jack Grealish, whose earlier creative and daring style has now been reduced to the role of a winger who maintains possession as his squad regroups. He was out there playing a predictable game of football: top quality, but consistent to the point of monotony.
Taking us back to the core essence as well as the aesthetics of the game, Guardiola’s strategy proves to be an excellent choice for affluent teams. Mixing this high degree of orderliness with a team comprising highly skilled individuals, brings us as near to an invincible squad as possible.
This notion of certainty, a lack of unpredictability, and seeing triumph as a purchasable item, is built into the philosophy of billionaire football. However, is there an alternative? Over the past decade, the alluring charm-football of Real Madrid has stood as the closest comparator. This is what made Wednesday night’s match so fascinating. It seemed like a clash of bigger forces, testing both teams to their maximum abilities.
More importantly, this could serve as a catalyst for something new. It may carve a pathway for City to move forward and for others to bridge the gap. – Guardian