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| Hoplite. Before and after. |
I’ll start this one with a statement: MLS, and soccer as a
sport, needs to figure out how they want to cope with the rise of video
technology – specifically how much they want to let it into the game. Yeah, I
sound late to the party, but I think it’s live more now than ever, and more
subtly. Of course I’m referencing the sending off of Atlanta United’s Yamil
Asad for knocking Eric Zavaleta in the back of the head in Atlanta’s 2-2 road
draw at Toronto FC. The lag was long enough to make it look like the referee flashed
red only after a chorus of rage rained down from the crowd, maybe even after he
caught video of Asad’s dubiously raised elbow.
I know video technology is coming, but I still think its
introduction begs questions that are more dichotomous than its advocates want
to admit. Assuming yesterday’s ref (David Gantar (clearly from Planet Awesome)) responded to
pressure from the crowd, what does that detail, specifically, mean to the
larger problem (yeah, I see it as a problem) of video review? I think there’s a
lot of ambient faith that soccer fans get pissy when someone interrupts their
collective flow. Maybe, that’s all I’m saying. What I’m arguing is that, the
more people bitch about every last failure that any given referee will inevitably
make, the more readily those gripes translate as pressure to “clean up” more
and more parts of the game, Dr. Frankenstein didn’t want to create a monster,
etc. (come, there’s a slippery slope to ride down!)
The underlying logic to video review gets at a symptom: the
unspoken desire for a perfectly officiated game. Consider, however, the
incentives. Once video review for certain circumstances comes into play, a
referee has every reason to just blow the whistle and let video sort it out
momentous decisions. The trick is, the referee has to patrol the rest of the
game relying entirely on his own judgment and, personally, I think the mindset
of relying on video will bleed through
I’ll be the first to admit this makes for a two-step
argument, but I think it holds, so here goes: the second greatest service that
any referee can bring to any game is consistency in the way he/she calls fouls,
and generally handles shit (The first greatest: barring violence from the game
to the extent possible). It is my strong belief that anything that causes a ref
to second guess himself undermines said second greatest service.
But enough of that…to the game!
TFC 2-2 Atlanta United FC
Intellectual honesty compels me to confess that my desire to
see the high press broken as a tactic may overwhelm my balance. To hit that
from the other side, I think Toronto looked the stronger team tonight,
precisely because they kept finding ways to evade Atlanta’s annoyingly
relentless pressure – pressure that, by way of theory, led to Asad’s sending
off. (I mean, what else besides tactical direction gets a player to chase down
an outlet pass at a dead sprint, and with enough desperation to swing an elbow
in what may or may not have been a swim move?)
At any rate, after succumbing to an early, breakaway goal by
Atlanta, and even after…succumbing again at the top of the second half, Toronto
kept finding ways to settle down and carve an impressive number of paths to
Atlanta’s goal - and they followed those paths to the end in their best moments. Think of Atlanta as a hoplite, basically (or at least my
understanding of one): once you get past the long spear and the shield, there’s
just a squishy human behind them, and that’s an ass you can kick. “Can” makes
for a good, accidental verb there because, for all the chances Toronto created,
or even all the botched passes that could have led to chances (Jozy Altidore,
in particular bumbled a bunch; and Victor Vazquez murdered a few early),
Toronto blew too many of theirs; sure, they forced a couple out of Alec Kann,
but they never got their goals.
They didn’t do much else, but Atlanta got their goals, both
from Hector Villalba, and both on different kinds of breakaways (theme; also,
that second one was pretty damned inexcusable), and that’s how Atlanta’s season
looks like it’ll go: if their pressure trips up your players, your team will
lose; if your team gives their team room to run in the open field, Atlanta will
score on you. And that brings up a useful point about Atlanta, and a good way
to get into bullet points.
On Atlanta United
Can they actually break down a packed defense?
I’m not saying they’ve never scored one, but I can’t recall
Atlanta scoring any goals this year that didn’t rely on breaking into space
like maniacs. They had to run at Toronto a couple times tonight, and with
Toronto compacted. It didn’t go well, and there are lessons to be learned from
that.
Assessing Almiron
The kid is damned fast, and gets faster the further he runs;
he runs well off the ball and hits a reliably good pass: again, though, he does
all that best in the open field. Almiron can play decent passes in tighter
quarters, but his best passes, and his best runs, happen in space – i.e., where
speed can compensate for lack of precision. Almiron’s clearly great at
jailbreaks, but how’s he do with picking locks? (And will that matter? I mean
after the summer?)
Two Key Pieces
I hereby admit that, at time of writing, I severely underestimated
how much gas Jeff Larentowicz has left in the tank; the man racked up more
interventions yesterday than Dr. Drew did over three seasons. Atlanta also
picked a peach (mm…just didn’t want to use the “gem” metaphor) in Leandro
Gonzalez-Pirez. Tough fucker, and mobile too.
On Toronto FC
One-Man Answer to the Key Question
Every team that faces Atlanta this season will be asked one
simple question: can you handle the pressure? TFC answered with a tempered “yep”
tonight, but their first confident answer came from Armando Cooper. The man
crushed it tonight, especially when it came to spinning out of Atlanta’s
pressure. Sometimes you beat them on the dribble, sometimes with a pass; Cooper
did it just by twisting and turning over the ball, and keeping it under him,
until he could face forward and find an outlet. Toronto rode his composure back
into the game, at least as far as it got into it.
The Essential Victor Vazquez
Toronto recovered impressively from Atlanta’s early pressure
(e.g., these cats can ball), but you can get a sense in how easily that can
break down in the body of one player: Victor Vazquez. When Toronto struggled
early, Vazquez fluffed a lot of those passes. Once he got rolling, though,
Toronto did too, not just in the attack (two assists, especially this one),
but all over the damn place – as in, Vazquez started providing a great outlet
for Michael Bradley.
Michael Bradley Still Has A Special Purpose
It’s just mostly as a defensive player. If he simplifies his
passing, he could become a great asset.
Wingbacks Flying
Steven Beitashour and Justin Morrow (or Rasheem Edwards)
play such a big, visible role in Toronto’s system, that I was literally making
notes about it while they combined to score Toronto’s too-short-lived winner (see the link, like, right above; just really liked Vazquez's contribution).
Anyway, watch for this, because, when they’re on, Toronto probably will be too.
In closing, I only wish failure upon Atlanta so long as they
play this high-press, high-speed tempo. I get why people like it (no, I don’t,
not really, hence the next few words), but I’d argue it’s more fast than
beautiful, or even capable. I’m definitely hoping to see more MLS teams break
it, and mostly because I believe its primary goal is disruption. And stopping people
from doing things is boring.
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