The Short Ramble - The Point of the Dance is the Dance

Most of my posts focus on my approach or setup and how my players play but these rambles seem to be the chaotic, incoherent little moments where I can remove myself from the technical parts of coaching and indulge that little voice inside my head that says “you know what, just excite me!” Constantly thinking about the game and reminding myself to “take note of the shape" is, frankly, exhausting. It becomes easy to forget something: the point of dancing is the dance.

Maybe it's just that I'm getting older but my perspective on life has shifted. I've never necessarily been a coach who is focused strongly on results - I believe they're a by-product of good development - but this year I've found myself reliving the idea of fun and beauty above all else, the Proustian whiff of goal compilations and infamous moments allowing me to remember things past. Those doomscrolling corners of the internet that drill right into the pleasure centres.

I saw a YouTube short recently that on the face of it was simple enough: a nostalgic reminiscence of an old Call of Duty. But within the memories of the now gone game mechanics the comments settled on something else. It became a forum for gamers - now probably in the same age bracket as myself - to ponder on the situation of their comrades from yesteryear, a unity now lost to time and the inevitable march of progress that we call “growing up”; nostalgia as always the more potent figure in the fight between new and old.

---

Somewhere I’m sure the “game’s gone” crowd are cheering the welcoming of another to their ranks, but in no way is that the case. I’m not saying it was better then. I’m not longing for the return of the Barclaysman, or 4-4-fucking-2 (although what a mini-renaissance that’s having by the way). Football is still glorious and ever-evolving; the style and personnel has changed but the sport is all the more advanced for it.

We learn from the past, adapting and moving on, or working in cycles to reuse old knowledge to solve new problems. I’ve recently begun listening to a podcast called “Football Ruined My Life”, a beautifully simple premise where three gentlemen of a certain age reminisce on the game gone by and how it’s changed. It's cathartic but it also tracks important tactical and practical changes in the game to get us where we are now, all from a perspective of looking back - (a note to say that since writing this the news of Patrick Barclay's untimely death has added it's own incredibly sad, poignant note).

But as the game changes, it is important we remember that the point is to dance.

Football, quite often these days, is too serious. In youth football it's about getting into academies; in academies it's about making it to senior football; in senior football it's about reaching the very highest level. Like the travel analogy Alan Watts uses above so much of the modern game is a way to arrive at a certain destination; join a team, win a league. Goal-orientated thinking dominates but do we ever stop to ask ourselves “why?”

Year after year pundits, fans and journalists ask if Man City have it in them to “go again” the year after winning a title as if anything less than that is failure. They question if Mo Salah can “keep up this form” as if a golden boot is the defining metric of success.

Modern football has become a constant repeating quota cycle geared to the same targets season after season. It’s the “20 goals is the sign of a top Premier League striker” or the “40 points guarantees safety”. The chasing of results is the price of business in professional football, and there’s nothing wrong with that; it’s competition after all. But for all the formulaic creature comforts, why then does the “Barclaysman” still prevail? Why do I keep watching videos of El Fenomeno?

Maybe like the orchestra conductor he wasn’t the best for how well he finished, but because of the path he took to get there. He danced the dance better than the rest. The build in conducting was as important as the crescendo. In the world of goal-orientated thinking we still value the method over the outcome, sometimes even to the point where the outcome becomes irrelevant. Even now, after watching Brentford in their fourth year in top flight football, us fans still say with affection “cor imagine if Toney’s shot in the Playoff final had gone in rather than rattling the crossbar”.

It would have been irrelevant. The game has long been won, Toney now moved to pastures new, but a hammered ball crashing against the woodwork is still exciting. Almost more so than a goal.

---

A more recent discovery for me has been Corzek; a fairly genius little content creator that takes everything we’re used to in football media and casts a focused lens on moments of magic. It’s slow-mo, we’ve seen that before. It’s a close angle, we’re used to that. But it gives us a look at the game that normal broadcasts never have. It’s not broad enough to show all the action, but not zoomed so far to provide microscopic analysis. It perfectly captures what we want to see as football lovers; the ball, its movement, and where it ends up - be it the back of the net or the gap between a defenders legs. Although only a single clip, much like the fragmented, fleeting nature of a compilation there is no focus on structure or shape; there is only the moment. The joy of play. It is, plainly and simply, the dance.

With all of these little videos and compilations the use of music takes it to another level, the parallel of beat and ball harmonising perfectly. It fits so well because, much like Alan Watts says in the comparison of the universe and music, there is no necessity for football whatsoever - "it is basically playful".

It’s no surprise that England Football have introduced the "Play" Phase as an introduction to football - I recently took the time to do the online course even though I don’t coach in the foundation phase, because there are still some parts that I think are universal to all players regardless of age. Yes it’s more heavily focused on physical literacy over football itself but the idea rings true - beginning to play football is all based around “play”. So why do we lose this? And why do we lose it so quickly? There are contradictions that creep into the game from such a young age, that often we ignore or perhaps don’t even think about.

We encourage our players to be on the ball early, to stay on it - "master the ball" - and rightly so. “Ball rolling time” is drilled into us at every level we coach - and rightly so! We need players wanting the ball, using the ball as much as possible. And then we complain about “honeypotting”, kids all swarming around the ball, stopping practices to encourage spreading out into space. Move AWAY FROM the ball - be further from the thing that you want, and that we WANT you to want. It’s a contradiction, a race to 11-a-side principles.

Germany (and now since writing The FA in England) moving to a focus on smaller sided games (3v3 at the very earliest level) is a brilliant, much needed change where play can grow and the rush to 11-a-side can be slowed. It is an opportunity to get young players to understand the most important aspects of the game; the ball and the battle.

For all the analysis of teams, shapes and styles, within the heat of battle it is amongst chaos that winners are formed. And whilst gaining wins will draw plaudits, showing you’re out there to play will win hearts and minds regardless of results. It’s like the difference between “taking a walk” in baseball and “stealing home”.

I’ve spoken recently - as have others far more qualified and insightful than me - about “invading” teams, not spreading out but getting close, occupying and playing into the compact areas rather than perhaps the more traditional routes of going around, over or dropping between the lines. Invasion, to me, is far more playful. It’s like “capture the flag” at paintball; it understands that the goal is the very heart of the opponent’s territory. It’s the ultimate objective and should be attacked with abandon, side by side supporting one another. It’s appreciating the game for the fight it is and exploring that further.

We may all have our different styles and approaches to arrive at the same universal point - scoring goals and winning matches - but as Alan Watts says we can’t miss the point of it all. We can’t “arrive” and ask was it all really worth it? At the time of writing, Burnley have gone 7 (SEVEN) games without conceding a goal; 33 games in and they’ve only shipped 9 goals in total, not yet giving up 2 league goals in a match (9 goals against in 9 games). They sit third in the table, firmly in the Playoffs but 5 points behind second place. Some Burnley fans aren’t even enjoying it. “Dull”. “Anti-football”. “Sh*te” even. They’re arriving without much of the dance.

---

The YouTube videos that prompted all of this might have been a simple example of how gameplay has changed in CoD, but within the comments was a longing to return to the all-night sessions with strangers known only by their gamertag. Where the mechanics made the game engaging to play, the shared experience made it worth playing.

I'm 33 now.. all the boys are gone. We gamed every night, for years. One night we said cya tomorrow. Like we always did. Little did any of us know. That was the last night we'd ever speak. I miss you all and hope you're all doing well. My son is making his gaming friends now. Maybe he'll meet one of your sons.. start the legacy over again.  @jonjustice5106

Since watching I've seen other comments on similarly innocuous videos where people feel pain and regret at earning the kill or the goal and hearing a simple "ah you got me" echo in their headphones from an older player who can't quite keep up anymore. Time has done it's thing but as the young successes move efficiently forwards it's their interactions with the old heads still enjoying themselves in defeat that have the lasting impact.

You may score, you may not, but the ultimate outcome - scoring, winning, however you want to define it - can’t trump play, and for play to work it has to be entered into voluntarily with enthusiasm and desire. As with video games, football may look better, but it is as worth it? We have to make sure it is, it has to be fun. We feel the pang of that with every YouTube or TikTok compilation. Like Don Draper’s pitch of Kodak’s Carousel in Mad Men, these platforms aren’t just ways to consume media; they’re time machines, the ache of nostalgia reminding us of how much we enjoyed to “play”.

Folks back in the day dreamed of the days when graphics would reflect reality. I believe we all lost something important along the way, I hope we find it again soon. @TheDreadedAssassin