The sound of leather on wood echoed around the stadium with increasing desperation. Twenty three times Spain peppered the Cape Verdean goal. Twenty th...
The sound of leather on wood echoed around the stadium with increasing desperation. Twenty three times Spain peppered the Cape Verdean goal. Twenty three times the ball was repelled, either by a desperate block, a sprawling save, or the frame itself. It was a statistical anomaly that spoke to a deeper, more troubling pattern. For all their pretty patterns and metronomic possession, Luis de la Fuente's side have run headlong into a familiar wall. Not just a physical one, but a psychological and tactical one.When the final whistle blew, a huGoalZaza voiced de la Fuente shrugged off the evident impotence in front of goal. "Nothing has given us any doubts. Whatever is said or has been left unsaid... this is the path we must follow," he insisted. Admirable loyalty to a principle, perhaps. But in the unforgiving arena of a World Cup, stubbornness is the first step towards an early flight home. The Spanish media, a notoriously fickle choir, have already begun sharpening their quills. The question is not whether Spain can keep the ball. We know they can. The question is whether they can do anything meaningful with it when a side parks the bus with the discipline of a Swiss watchmaker.Cape Verde offered the template. They sat deep, compressed the space between the lines, and dared Spain to play through them. And Spain, for all their intricate passing triangles, looked flummoxed. There was no Plan B. No runner in behind to stretch the play. No willingness to sacrifice a pass for a shot from distance. It was football as entropy: lots of movement, zero end product. The midfield trio kept the ball moving in neat circles, but it was the circular logic of a hamster wheel. They went sideways, then backwards, then sideways again. Clinical finishing was absent. Transitional play was feared rather than exploited.A turning point is approaching, and not the sort de la Fuente enjoys. He has to ask himself the hard questions. Is this possession for possession's sake a shield or a sword Does his tactical flexibility extend beyond swapping one tiki taka merchant for another The international game is littered with sides who dominated the ball but left with nothing but passing statistics to warm them. The great Spain of 2010 had a Xavi, an Iniesta, and a Villa who could finish a chance from a half yard. This iteration has plenty of the first two archetypes, but is desperately lacking the third. Unless de la Fuente finds a ruthless edge, or a different tactical approach for when the wall stands firm, this World Cup campaign will not be remembered for its beauty. It will be remembered as the tournament where Spain passed themselves into a corner and had no idea how to punch their way out. Squeaky bum time has arrived early in the Spanish camp.
