The World Cup is entering its decisive phase, but for millions of fans around the world, the brilliance of the greatest sports forum is no longer the same. The problem of modern international football, however, is often deeply misdiagnosed.
On the eve of the decisive eliminations, we witnessed yet another stupid statement on the subject - former Spanish Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy wrote in an author's column that the French squad is at an extremely high level, but “there are no Frenchmen“. This cheap political rhetoric misses the real sports diagnosis: the crisis in football is not demographic, but tactical. The problem is the complete loss of the playing identity of the national teams. Instead of a clash of radically different football civilizations, today we observe a monotonous product in which everyone plays according to the same template.
Demographic reality versus “imported“ passports
When we talk about the squads of leading European powers such as France, England and Germany, we cannot help but notice the overwhelming number of players of different ethnic origins. Whether traditionalists like this or not, this is simply the demographic picture of these societies today.
„These guys are not just foreigners with hastily arranged documents, as was the case with the Brazilian Marcelinho in the Bulgarian national team. They were born in Paris, London or Berlin.“
These guys, in their vast majority, grew up in the local environment, absorbed the local culture and lived there from their first day. Their presence on the field is a natural reflection of the modern country they represent. French citizenship has no skin color - something that history has long proven. It is enough to go back decades to remember the legendary trio of dark-skinned footballers who were pillars of France - Jean Tigana, Marius Tresor and Gerard Jeanvion. They were as French as Michel Platini, and no one questioned their identity at the time. The problem with football is not the roots of the boys, but what is happening to the game outside Europe.
The death of “Jinga“ and the Europeanization of South America
The most painful example of true depersonalization is Brazil. The historic Brazilian “Jinga“ (Ginga) - that street, improvised and explosive style born from capoeira - is practically dead today.
The reason is purely economic and is rooted in the early export of talent. European clubs suck up South American kids even before they reach adulthood. At 16 or 17, they are already in the academies of Portugal, Spain or Germany. There they are tactically broken and molded according to the requirements of modern European football: strict discipline, positional play and quick release of the ball.
When they return to their national team, they no longer play like Brazilians, but like perfectly programmed European robots. Creative risk and beautiful dribbling have been replaced by sure passes back and to the side.
Club football as a fashion dictator
In the past, World Cups were a showcase for unique philosophies: the Italian Catenacho faced the Dutch Total Soccer, and German discipline collided with Latin American fantasy.
“Instead of a clash of civilizations, the modern World Cup is just another industrial Champions League match disguised as different national flags.“
Today, national coaches simply don't have time for such creativity. Since they have their players for only a few days a year, they copy the systems of club football out of the box. Most teams use standardized variations of systems such as 4-3-3 or 4-2-3-1, relying entirely on high intensity, pressing and closing spaces. The modern standards of positional play imposed in the Champions League are automatically transferred to the international stage, making matches extremely predictable.
One dressing room, uniform football
The geographical concentration of football power in Western Europe has completed the process of global uniformity. Whether a player is from Argentina, Senegal, Japan or France, he is likely to play in the English Premier League, La Liga, Serie A or Bundesliga.
Elite players share the same dressing rooms, train with the same methods and analyse each other using the same computer programs. When they face each other at the World Cup, they are effectively playing against their club colleagues, applying exactly the same automatisms. The fear of losing has given rise to an era of extreme pragmatism, in which coaches prefer safety to risk.
Where is the game going?
The romantic football at the national level seems to have been definitively lost in the name of commercial and tactical efficiency. As FIFA continues to expand tournament formats for greater revenue and European clubs monopolize the development of young talent, uniformity will deepen. For the modern fan, fed up with the authentic football of the last century, the bitter taste remains that he is watching a globalized product without a soul, in which the colors of the flags are simply a cosmetic detail.