by Michael Cox
Allardyce took it further. Once he realised there was nothing to stop these ‘passive offside’ players deliberately blocking the view of opposition goalkeepers at free-kicks, he started 2005/06 with an even bolder approach. In Bolton’s first home game, a 1–0 defeat to Everton, Allardyce placed Nolan in front of opposition goalkeeper Nigel Martyn, standing face to face with him. When the goalkeeper moved to get a better view, Nolan shifted with him. Allardyce’s reaction was familiar. ‘I don’t like what I’ve done,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t think it’s a good regulation, I think the interpretation is wrong and by doing what I did, I’ve shown it up to be wrong, even though we’ve tried to take full advantage of it. But while the regulations are there, we will try to use them to our benefit.’
That was Allardyce, always trying to steal a march on his rivals – and he had plenty of them. A long-running spat with Liverpool manager Rafael Benítez was particularly notable. ‘I think it is a model for all the managers around the world, their style of football and his behaviour,’ Benítez sarcastically once said. ‘It is the perfect model for all the kids and I’m sure all parents will enjoy this model and encourage their kids to be the same. The style of football, I think, Barcelona are thinking of copying.’
Most famously, Bolton’s upsets were against Arsenal, the Premier League’s symbol of technically proficient football. While there were similarities between Allardyce and Wenger in terms of physiological innovations, their football couldn’t have been more different, and these head-to-head meetings ensured Bolton became renowned as the most direct side in the division. They started in April 2003, when Arsenal were 2–0 up at the Reebok Stadium but collapsed in the final 20 minutes, unable to cope with Okocha’s skill or Bolton’s aerial bombardment, the perfect illustration of their hybrid threat. With Djorkaeff getting a goal back and Arsenal struggling to defend crosses, Martin Keown nodded into his own net to seal a draw for Bolton, which effectively ended Arsenal’s title hopes.
Later, between January 2005 and November 2006 – a period during which Arsenal won the FA Cup and reached the Champions League Final – Bolton played the Gunners four times at the Reebok Stadium and won all four games, with every opener a header. The first occasion saw Arsenal goalkeeper Manuel Almunia subjected to a relentless aerial bombardment he appeared completely unprepared for, with Wenger uncharacteristically criticising his goalkeeper’s decision-making afterwards. Bolton’s goal arrived when Jääskeläinen kicked long, Bolton won the second ball and Diouf crossed for Giannakopoulos to head in. But in addition to their attacking threat, Bolton were also secure at the back. ‘We sussed their formation, we forced them into making basic errors,’ boasted Allardyce.
While Wenger would complain about Bolton’s physicality after subsequent meetings, on this occasion he admitted his players were tactically outwitted. ‘We allowed Bolton to play the game that suits them; we gave them their ideal conditions and let them play,’ he said. ‘They sucked us in and played the long ball, but that’s the way Bolton play.’ It seemed Arsenal were completely flummoxed by a side using old-school tactics.
Bolton’s 2–0 victory in December 2005, when Allardyce targeted the unconvincing Pascal Cygan in an unfamiliar left-back role, again left Wenger acknowledging Arsenal weren’t suited to Bolton’s approach. ‘It was a tentative and frail performance from us. The way they played beat us; that is credit to Bolton and it is down to our weakness … they showed the type of game you need to beat us,’ Wenger admitted, alongside complaints about Bolton’s physicality. ‘They kicked us as much as we kicked them,’ responded Bolton midfielder Nolan. ‘But if they want to complain about that, then everybody knows how to beat Arsenal now, don’t they?’
They did, but few knew better than Bolton. A 1–0 FA Cup victory a month later saw Bolton again target a centre-back out of position at left-back, this time Philippe Senderos, with Giannakopoulos heading the winner from within the defender’s zone. The 3–1 win in November 2006 was slightly more fortunate, with Arsenal hitting the woodwork three times. But at the Reebok it was four defeats in a row for Arsenal, and their physical weakness, not previously considered a particular problem, was ruthlessly exposed by Allardyce.
‘Wenger seemed to want a rule where Arsenal should be allowed to do what they wanted with the ball, without us being allowed to tackle them,’ Allardyce said. ‘There was no credit [from the media] for the fact we’d spent all week studying how to nullify their skilful players and not let them have a second on the ball. It was a skill finding their weakness and how to exploit them.’ This is the crucial thing about Allardyce’s game plan; he’s a studious manager who scouts the opposition in depth before formulating his strategy, making him among the most reactive tacticians the Premier League has seen. He particularly loves playing against managers with a defined, inflexible philosophy – it simply makes his tactical task easier, as he outlined in a 2014 interview.
‘There are two types of coaches. There’s coaches like me who weigh up the opposition and ask the team to adjust. Fergie was similar. José [Mourinho] is similar. Then there’s Arsène, who won’t adjust. There’s Brendan [Rodgers], who looks like he won’t adjust. There’s Manuel Pellegrini, who looks like he won’t adjust … their philosophy is different to ours. Ours is more about who are we playing against. Their philosophy is more, “We always play this way,” and they won’t change, they carry on doing the same thing. That’s why you can beat them.’
Allardyce was a master of finding balance – between physicality and flair, between his old-school persona and his innovative methods, between a consistent approach and tactics that took account of the opposition. Few neutrals admired his Bolton side from an aesthetic perspective, but Allardyce’s teams always contained exciting players; he also provided tactical variety, challenging the big sides with a completely different threat. Always the outsider, Allardyce reintroduced traditional English football into an increasingly continental Premier League.
Part Four
Universality
10
One Up Front
‘You see Thierry, and it’s beautiful. You see me, and it’s not classic.’
Ruud van Nistelrooy
Formation changes during the Premier League’s early years were primarily player-based evolutions, usually modifications to 4–4–2 in response to a foreign import’s unorthodox characteristics and positioning. The start of the 21st century, however, was dominated by the shift from two-striker systems to one-striker systems, and it’s significant that Sir Alex Ferguson, this movement’s trendsetter, decided to change formation first, then identified players who would fit into the new system. His switch from a player-first to a system-first mentality highlighted the increased emphasis upon tactics.
In keeping with Ferguson’s ever-improving tactical acumen throughout the 1990s, his inspiration came from European competition. United’s 3–2 defeat to Real Madrid in the European Cup quarter-final of 2000 is sometimes cited as the match when Ferguson decided to shift away from 4–4–2, but United had performed impressively, creating chances but constantly being foiled by young Real goalkeeper Iker Casillas. Besides, there was no shame in being defeated by the eventual European champions. Two losses in the following season’s competition, to PSV and Anderlecht, proved more crucial in changing Ferguson’s mentality. The Dutch side overcame United 3–1 with a conservative version of the classic Dutch 4–3–3 formation, while the Belgian champions utilised a flexible diamond system in a 2–1 win.
In both matches United struggled to keep possession for long periods, were exposed on the counter-attack and only scored from the penalty spot. ‘We were battered,’ Ferguson later recalled of those two defeats. ‘We played the traditional United way, 4–4–2, and were thumped. I told the players and staff that if we could not keep the ball better and stay solid in midfield we were going to suffer more that way, because opponents had sussed us out. So we switched to playing three in the centre of the park.’ With a winger on either flank, that inevitably m
eant room for only one centre-forward. Ferguson experimented with a 4–5–1 midway through 2000/01, primarily because of injuries, but at the start of the following campaign it had become his default system.
This was a very deliberate move, with Ferguson sacrificing attacking resources to ensure United had the upper hand in midfield, helping them to dominate matches. This proved controversial among Manchester United fans, many of whom considered 4–4–2 part of the club’s tradition. The comfortable title victories of 1999/2000 and 2000/01 were achieved with that formation, still with a squad-rotation system incorporating treble-winners Dwight Yorke, Andy Cole, Teddy Sheringham and Ole Gunnar Solskjær.
By this stage, the star man was Sheringham, who top-scored for United from his withdrawn forward role in 2000/01 and was voted both PFA and FWA Player of the Year. Surprisingly, Ferguson allowed Sheringham to rejoin former club Tottenham immediately afterwards. Officially this was because United were only offering Sheringham a one-year deal when the 35-year-old wanted two, but it seemed strange United lost the Premier League’s best player purely over contract length, especially when Sheringham was the classic type of player who had never depended on pace, so could easily play into his late 30s. The fact Ferguson intended to move to a 4–5–1, a system that wouldn’t suit a second striker like Sheringham, surely contributed to his departure.
The 4–5–1 required different types of players to 4–4–2, and Ferguson therefore made two significant purchases. He broke the British transfer record by signing centre-forward Ruud van Nistelrooy from PSV, then smashed that record shortly afterwards with the purchase of Lazio’s Argentine midfielder Juan Sebastián Verón. ‘I never thought I’d spend this much money on a player,’ Ferguson said about the latter. ‘But this is something United had to do.’ His intentions were obvious; Van Nistelrooy was a striker capable of playing up front alone, while Verón was a third top-class central midfielder to play alongside Roy Keane and Paul Scholes. Ferguson, incidentally, had announced his intention to retire in a year’s time, at the end of 2001/02. Notably, that season’s Champions League Final was to be played in Ferguson’s home city of Glasgow – he’d identified success at Hampden Park as the ideal farewell, and 4–5–1 the best system for winning a second Champions League.
United’s experience with the 4–5–1, however, didn’t start well. There were various factors; Jaap Stam’s shock departure after falling out with Ferguson and his replacement Laurent Blanc struggling wasn’t helpful, while Ferguson later admitted that pre-announcing his retirement was a huge mistake, as his players switched off. But the system inevitably attracted plenty of criticism, with United’s build-up play being noticeably slower. The scapegoat was Verón, which was slightly unfair considering that he was adapting to a different league. Besides, the change of system had prompted a decline in performance from teammates boasting considerably more Premier League experience.
There was always confusion about Verón’s optimum role, however; he was neither a classic Argentine number 10, nor a deep-lying playmaker, while he was too languid to be considered a box-to-box player. ‘I played with him, and I couldn’t tell you his best position,’ admitted Ryan Giggs. Verón drifted around providing occasional brilliant long-range passes but was rarely decisive. His teammates spoke about his quality in training – and Ferguson called him ‘a fucking great player’ and lambasted critical journalists as ‘fucking idiots’ for not appreciating his talent in a press-conference rant – but Verón was ultimately underwhelming considering he was the most expensive – and the highest-paid – Premier League player at that point. It’s arguable that Verón arrived a couple of years ahead of his time, when English football hadn’t yet embraced silky midfielders and three-man midfields, but then other foreign talents, such as Eric Cantona, fought against the tide and effectively re-educated supporters. Verón was unable to replicate that influence and was happier with the slower pace of football in Italy and Argentina.
Having found themselves as low as ninth in early December 2001, United improved dramatically and won 14 of their next 16 games, taking them to the top of the league, by which time Ferguson had reversed his decision to retire. Notably, while Ferguson continued with 4–5–1 in Europe, he reverted to 4–4–2 in the Premier League, which suited United’s natural style and prompted their sudden improvement. In March, however, they were surprisingly defeated 1–0 at home by Middlesbrough, now coached by their former assistant Steve McClaren, courtesy of an Alen Bokšić goal that stemmed from Verón losing the ball unnecessarily in front of the defence. United were leapfrogged by Arsenal that weekend, and the Gunners never conceded first position on their way to the title.
More pertinent than Verón’s performances, however, were the displays of Van Nistelrooy, as the Premier League attempted to work out precisely what was required from a lone centre-forward. Previously, playing with one up front was considered a defensive move, usually utilised by smaller clubs away from home. Now, it was a viable attacking strategy.
Van Nistelrooy had, slightly surprisingly, risen through the ranks at Dutch second division side Den Bosch as an attacking midfielder, before being converted to a centre-forward role in the Eredivisie by Heerenveen coach Foppe de Haan. After his move to Manchester United, De Haan recalled that a young Van Nistelrooy ‘wasn’t a real team player, and had no sense of what it means to play in a technical way – he wanted to have each ball, and he was very good on the ball, but he was playing for himself’. De Haan recognised Van Nistelrooy’s limitations, pushing him up front while instructing him to chase the ball less and wait for it more. He thereby created the purest goal poacher the Premier League has witnessed.
Ferguson nearly signed Van Nistelrooy in the summer of 2000, but the striker failed a medical when United detected a problem with his cruciate ligament. PSV insisted any injury was minor and Van Nistelrooy returned to Eindhoven to train, with the club filming him to provide evidence of his fitness. But midway through that training session Van Nistelrooy suddenly collapsed screaming, holding his knee in agony. He’d ruptured the ligament, justifying United’s concern. Ferguson visited the striker to assure him the transfer would go through next summer if he recovered properly, and he kept to his word.
Ferguson’s faith was justified, as van Nistelrooy proved an instant hit. He netted twice on his home debut against Fulham, and ended on 23 goals from his first Premier League campaign, being voted PFA Player of the Year. Throughout his five-year spell in English football Van Nistelrooy scored prolifically – and indiscriminately; of his 95 Premier League goals, 48 were scored at home and 47 away. Forty-eight were scored in the first half and 47 in the second half. Most strikers score more at home when their side is dominant, and more in the second half, when games become stretched; but Van Nistelrooy banged in goals whenever, wherever, invariably accompanied by the booming sound of United fans bellowing ‘Ruuuud’.
Another statistic underlines Van Nistelrooy’s role at Manchester United – of his 95 Premier League goals, only one was scored from outside the penalty area. In fact, extend the sample to Van Nistelrooy’s 150 United goals in all competitions and the figure is still only one, away at Charlton in his final campaign. Even for an unashamed goalhanger like Van Nistelrooy, it’s a remarkable statistic considering pure target men such as Emile Heskey (11 of his 111 Premier League goals), Chris Sutton (9 of 83) or Kevin Davies (7 of 83) scored many more from outside the box.
When Wayne Rooney made his debut for Manchester United in a Champions League tie against Fenerbahçe in 2004, he scored a hat-trick comprising three goals from outside the box. Three in 54 minutes; Van Nistelrooy managed just one in five seasons. But the Dutchman was a fantastic poacher, thriving on crosses, predicting where rebounds would fall, sensing when the goalkeeper was advancing and rounding him. While his goals were uniformly from close range, some of them were spectacular, particularly when he received the ball at an awkward height. Then he’d show an incredible ability to cushion the ball into a shooting position before pivo
ting swiftly and crashing the ball home. The ultimate purpose of football is putting the ball in the net, and of the thousands of footballers who have played in the Premier League no one has been better at that simple task than Van Nistelrooy.
But Van Nistelrooy also proved problematic. Before his arrival Manchester United won three consecutive Premier League titles. During his period at Old Trafford they triumphed just once in five seasons. When he departed in 2006 they immediately won three consecutive titles again. Van Nistelrooy isn’t solely to blame – Chelsea’s sudden wealth, Arsenal’s improvement and some questionable Ferguson signings are equally responsible – but Van Nistelrooy was impressive individually rather than a great team player.
While Van Nistelrooy’s teammates routinely described him as the best finisher they’d played alongside, his one-dimensional nature was obvious. ‘If we’d won 3–0 and he’d missed a decent chance, afterwards he’d sit in the corner of the dressing room looking miserable,’ said Ryan Giggs. He recalls an incident from a 4–0 win away at Bolton in Van Nistelrooy’s first season when Solskjær had upstaged him by bagging a hat-trick and putting the game to bed. With a couple of minutes remaining and the game already won, Giggs teed up Van Nistelrooy for a simple tap-in and was taken aback when Van Nistelrooy ran towards him shouting ‘Thank you, thank you!’ because he was so delighted not to finish the game without a goal.
