Football in the 1970s was a fairly simple game, wasn’t it?  Defence hoof it long; miss out the midfield entirely; bit of a scrap around the penalty spot; and repeat, just in the opposite direction.  Not much to it.  No great strategy or intellectualising required.

But then things changed.

All of a sudden, football wanted to appear intelligent.

Personally, I blame Eric Cantona for starting the rot.  His image of Gallic enigma – “When the seagulls follow the trawler, it is because they think sardines will be thrown into the sea” – was in stark contrast to the dialogue of monosyllabic clichés that had passed for footballing interviews before it.  It was not long before an entire generation of football managers had sprung up who mistook Eastern inscrutability for intelligence. Suddenly there was a rash of perverse soundbites – “I went to see Stockport”; “Stick to the tambourine” – followed by a raft of perverse tactics; perverse substitutions; perverse team selections.

And then it was not long before the perversity transferred to the actual style of play on the pitch.  Suddenly midfielders were transformed into creatives not just bystanders.  Tiki-taka replaced long-ball.  Possession football became equated to a higher footballing IQ.  Goalkeepers were encouraged to ‘play out from the back’.  The ‘press’ was invented.  God, isn’t it all so clever.

Clever?  Questionable.  Boring?  Undoubtedly.

Half-backs with the highest pass-conversion rates.  Centre-forwards recording just five touches in an entire match.  It’s not right.  If I want ‘intelligence’, I will go to my local library and pick up a volume of Heidegger.  When I go to the football, I want to see end-to-end action; the ball being kicked forward rather than endlessly from side to side; centre-forwards with no teeth; rugby-match scorelines.  And, given the amount of hyperbole when Paris Saint-Germain and Bayern Munich get back to basics and dish up just such an old-skool match in a Champions League semi-final, I think there may be plenty of football-goers who would agree with me.

© Donnie Blake

Donnie Blake’s references date from a time when a forward pass from Ray Wilkins was as rare as one of Joe Jordan’s front teeth.

Check out Donnie’s World Cup Detective series of books.