The one that has to run is the ball

There is a common phrase when you want to criticize football, or you don’t understand it: “There are 22 players running after a ball”. There are several errors in that sentence. First, that two of those players – the goalkeepers – don’t usually run. Then, that while some run, let’s say the attacking midfielders and forwards of a team, others from that same team, the defensive midfielders and defenders, don’t usually run too much (I know that this phrase also has its flats: the full-backs tend to go on the attack and other variables, but I use that division between positions to advance and get to the point).

I could give many counterarguments to demonstrate the error of that sentence, but I prefer to leave it here for opposite reasons. I want to say: in football there is a truth hidden in the relationship between players, running and the ball. Because unlike the opening line, which suggests it’s a charmless, silly game that anyone in terms of fitness can play (who can’t run after a ball!), the truth of soccer lies in the running of the ball, not the players. And that is very difficult! Said more precisely: that one team moves the ball, and the other runs after it. When a team does that, they usually win. Of course, to achieve this, you also have to run, that is, rotate, get unmarked, play first, play in small spaces. But none of that is as tiring as running after the ball.

The trivial discourse of soccer players, and often also of fans, associates running with putting in, getting stuck, sweating, fighting, giving up everything. But the only thing to leave is the ball at a teammate’s feet! And then running becomes triangular, getting unmarked, embittering, rotating, stinging into space, changing fronts, starting on one side and finishing on the other, as in Di María’s goal in the World Cup final, a masterpiece of offensive counterattack, in which the ball goes faster, with the French always running behind.

At the beginning of August the round of 16 of the Libertadores begin. River seems to be the only Argentine team in a position to make the rival run. Only that he has to play against a Brazilian team, Inter de Porto Alegre, who, beyond floating around the middle of the local championship table, is always dangerous for the simple fact of being Brazilian. For years, we have not known what Boca plays. It’s not too serious: if we still don’t know what’s on the dark side of the moon or what an important part of the brain is for, why should we know what Boca de Riquelme and Almirón is playing? Play against an accessible team, Nacional from Uruguay. If it happens, in the quarterfinals it may be up to a Racing team that begins to look more and more like Gago as a player: someone who promises, but doesn’t deliver.

Going back to the beginning: how difficult it is, in these times, to find a guy who stops the ball, raises his head and passes between the lines. Let the ball run and let the rival walk slowly until inside the arc to grab it and get out of the way.