Carsley: Full Throttle – a strange attempt at reinvention was a tactical backfire | League of Nations

Lee Carsley achieved something at Wembley that may have seemed impossible just a few weeks ago. On an exciting, almost completely formless night of international football, Carsley made Gareth Southgate look like, just maybe, he should have known what he was doing, laying out a performance and tactical plan that was, in its own way, a wonderfully selfless act . tribute to its strangely maligned predecessor.

Okay, Carsley seemed to be saying here. People want full-on, brakes-off, English howler. Let’s see what that actually looks like. And the answer, of course, is, in any version of the real world,… well, what exactly? Like a collapsed wedding cake rolling down an ornate staircase, while a football match is taking place nearby. Like confused talented people running strangely. It’s like watching someone try to build a rubber boat out of nothing but licorice, diamonds and vibrations. At some point you will need some rope and some driftwood. But keep going. It’s quite fascinating.

No one could say this wasn’t fun until the end, as a half-empty stadium roared in confusion, Jude Bellingham’s hammered equalizer seemed to have saved the home day for the 48th ranked team in the world, only for Greece to ultimately lose one of their chances at death.

And yes, people can be harsh on Greece for only winning 2-1. But you can only beat what’s in front of you. And what was here in front of them was actually an idea from the Internet. No doubt Carsley has the best intentions for these games, including trying to get the England job by getting people to like him and think he’s something new. But this was also the most amorphous, strangely arrogant attempt to reinvent the basic idea of ​​international football against a team that can actually play.

Wembley had been a cold, tinny place at kick-off, with the familiar midweek feel of a tepid, light entertainment spectacle. But this was also a truly fascinating event. This was Carsley’s opportunity to express his vision, the Carsley-shaped future.

And so we got the England of everything everywhere at once. This was the entire tube of Pringles. Easter eggs for breakfast. Bellingham started in a false nine-like role. Behind him, well, count them, take down that full house. Sake. Palmer. Foden. Gordon. This was Carsley: Full Throttle, there on his diamond Vespa, shooting donuts around the Aldi parking lot, watermelon fumes pouring from his pockets.

Even in the run-up, Carsley had been talking seductively, promising a flood of number 10s. It made career sense. The gallery’s judgment is important. The FA would clearly like to appoint him if they can. Playing all of his most agreeable forwards was the perfect opportunity to sell himself and become the fun new stepdad. Those who had grown tired of Southgate, who saw a colossal act of betrayal in not winning all the tournaments, could now jump into Carsley’s warm bath for vindication.

Instead, Carsley’s England instead produced a 90-minute real-time demonstration of why loading all your attacking players onto the pitch is not the way to create cohesive attacking football. The main irony is that England didn’t actually do much attacking. Creativity comes from structure. And while there were some early chances, England at the other end were wide open from the start. This is no surprise. This team is designed to be open. Cool, brother. It’s under control.

Carsley was immediately on his sidelines and for the occasion wore tight-fitting jeggings and a cropped hoodie that drew attention to 1. his qualifications as a tracksuit coach; and 2. his buttocks. So England left with half free jazz, but free jazz without the right instruments, just banging on a plastic bag, a crate of dates, a bicycle wheel.

Cole Palmer came in as the second midfielder, which in itself is a funny idea, like asking King Charles to attach some jumper cables to your car. Phil Foden made a fuss about playing number 10 behind a false nine, which isn’t actually the case. You could see Foden thinking this as the half progressed. What have I… what is he doing…?

England sometimes had difficulty keeping the ball. But this was also a formation where you will have a lot of ball possession with an opponent dropping deep but then no striker to go to, an expert act of tactical foot-shooting.

Behind it was Declan Rice every midfielder. Just ‘do it’ in midfield, Dec. All midfield. We will be there. Rice could have been booked for an early lunge, later stretching to cover the open spaces.

A 0-0 score at half-time seemed strange, and not only because England would be 8-0 behind France in this way. They only had one shot on target at that point, despite all the players being there and all the problems today.

There were no changes in England during the break. Trust the process. To believe. To grow. And Greece rightly took the lead. The aim was for him to run through the heart of the England team, leaving Vangelis Pavlidis free to fire into the corner as a strange bottom of white shirts recoiled from him.

Towards the end, with Dom Solanke and Ollie Watkins now, England played classic 4-4-2, a fascinating Benjamin Button-style return to the tactical soup from which Carsley emerged, back in the safe, warm space of David Moyes Everton. team. It worked a little better because the players knew what to do.

But Greece was tenacious and passionate and really wanted to win this match, and that’s the point after all. No doubt England and Carsley wanted this just as much. But if this seemed like a populist pitch for the permanent job, it ultimately felt like a fairly disastrous tactical backfire.