JOYFUL - The Square Ball 26/11/21
Amateur hour
Written by: Rob Conlon
When Raphinha is scowling at Jamie Shackleton for a
misplaced pass or telling off a teammate for not making the correct run off the
ball, you wouldn’t necessarily guess from his body language that he’s playing
football to bring joy to himself and everyone watching.
Even when speaking to Adam Pope in an interview with BBC
Radio Leeds this week, Raphinha was sitting on a chair with his arms folded, an
occasional sigh belying his otherwise expressionless face. A translator could
be seen over his left shoulder, but Rapha’s poker face made it hard to tell if
he even realised the translator was there. “I just want to be on the pitch,
playing football, having fun,” he said. “I’m doing the same thing I was doing
in amateur várzea games back in Porto Alegre, the same focus, always looking to
enjoy and have fun doing what I love.”
Marcelo Bielsa spoke in praise of Raphinha’s amateur
attitude in his pre-Brighton press conference. The word ‘amateur’ is today used
to suggest sloppiness — ‘a person who is incompetent or inept at a particular
activity,’ is one definition provided by Google — yet it derives from the Latin
verb ‘to love’.
“To be a professional player, an important contribution is
to possess a high spirit of amateur[ism],” Bielsa said. “I am referring to what
a player develops when they play for nothing, without expecting any recompense
apart from the victory. They are the future professional footballers, they
consolidate the most important parts of that to then become professionals.
Raphinha is a clear example of this, he hasn’t lost anything of what you get
when you play for fun.”
In his book ‘What Sport Tells Us About Life’, the former
England cricketer Ed Smith writes a chapter lamenting professionalism’s
overtaking of amateurism, for burdening creative, instinctive talents. ‘I would
argue there is also a pragmatic reason for retaining a splash of the amateur
spirit: it is often a big part of how victories happen,’ he writes. ‘One half
of sport may be about harnessing human talent, but the other half depends on
setting it free. In that sense, sport is just like other forms of
self-expression.’
Smith cites an article from the sportswriter Simon Barnes,
commenting on Brazil’s 2002 World Cup-winning manager Luiz Felipe Scolari’s own
yearning for amateurism.
‘Scolari said: “My priority is to ensure that players feel
more amateur than professional. Thirty to forty years ago, the effort was the
other way. Now there is so much professionalism, we have to revert to urging
players to like the game, love it, do it with joy.” This is not romantic
twaddle. It is a fact that the more important something gets, the harder it is
to do well. We can all walk along a kerbstone in safety: but if the drop were
not six inches but six miles, how then would we walk? Football matters too
much; it matters to the players too much. As a result, the mattering gets in
the way of the playing.’
There is a sweet spot, however, where amateurism meets
professionalism. Raphinha is well aware football matters, which is why his feet
are dancing to a samba rhythm at the same time as his eyes are staring into the
soul of a defender. “Obviously today I [play] with a lot more responsibility on
my shoulders, but going from the tunnel onto the pitch, it’s the same thing:
I’m going on the pitch to enjoy myself and get the win, because I always want
to be winning,” he told Radio Leeds. “I want to win the game and enjoy myself
in the process.”
Bielsa concurs. “Of course, he has added to this amateur
spirit. He has added a lot of things that the professional game demands. The
important thing is the development of those virtues that come from when you are
a child, because the ones that come with the professional game are
complementary [to that]. Of course, Raphinha is recognised and he will be so
more and more for his capacity to invent responses that are not expected and
that is not a virtue that you obtain with the professionalism, you have to
conserve it and keep it despite the professionalism.”
Which is easy to say when you’re talking about a footballer
as talented as Raphinha. But what about the players that dragged Leeds this far
in the first place? Luke Ayling is the opposite to Raphinha. While Rapha was
tearing up street games and hanging out with Ronaldinho as a kid, Ayling was
being told he wasn’t quick enough or strong enough to become an elite
footballer, and giving up on the idea of playing in the Premier League even
while playing professionally at Yeovil and Bristol City. Ayling is now a
promotion hero and elevated himself to levels so far beyond his expectations he
was mentioned by Gareth Southgate last season as a contender for the England
squad, yet he still worries his time as an established player at Leeds could
come to an abrupt end, knowing the club are now able to buy someone ‘better’ than
him if they wish.
“I can only speak for myself, but those doubts are always
there,” he told Phil Hay in an interview for The Athletic. “That’s what pushes
you. It makes you want to make the weight, it makes you want to train hard and
it makes you want to be in the team on a Saturday, playing well. If those
doubts go, you’re going to sit back and think you’ve cracked it. That’s when
everything catches up on you and goes past you in the end. Doubts are good. All
players doubt themselves and all players want to get better. It’s always there
and I want it to be there.”
The differences between Raphinha and Ayling on the pitch
seem to be the wrong way around. Raphinha is the frowning global star who just
wants to have fun, Ayling is the grinning joker fuelled by the need to prove
himself every week. They meet at the same merging of amateurism and
professionalism thanks to the work of Bielsa, who goes to extreme lengths to
programme his players’ physical and technical skills so they can carry out his
game plan almost without thinking, encouraging their creative subconscious to
make them do something instinctive and fun, as if they were back playing on a
park as a child. Don Revie and Howard Wilkinson’s methods were similar,
drilling their players with dossiers on the opposition and through repetitive
training sessions, ensuring players like Eddie Gray or Gordon Strachan had the
foundations around them to be able to express themselves.
“Bielsa, who was very structured, who had very mechanised
movements, said that his greatest pride was when a player went onto the pitch
and did something that he decided for himself,” Atletico Madrid manager Diego
Simeone told Spanish newspaper El Pais in October. “Mechanisation generates a
stimulus to repeat things, and that’s where the other ‘you’ [the individual]
has to appear and add it to what the coaches say.”
By the time Ayling is back from injury and linking up with
Raphinha down Leeds’ right wing again, United might need to prioritise winning
over having fun if they remain worryingly close to the relegation zone. But
according to those who know best, playing football for the sheer thrill of it
can go a long way to providing the buzz of victory. After all, it’s only a
game.