Football singularity

Chapter 825: Chapter 825 The Wrong Foot

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[28-06-2021 | Arena Națională, Bucharest | 19:50 EET]

The rain fell in a thin, uneven curtain over the Arena Națională, giving the surface a silver shimmer. Despite the poor weather, it did little to dampen the atmosphere as the crowd of 22 thousand fans packed in their respective pockets were already belting out competing chants long before kick-off. The Bucharest sky sat low and heavy, the overcast so thick that the floodlights had come on early.

"Good evening, and welcome to the Arena Națională here in Bucharest for the first knockout round of Euro 2020," the lead commentator, Martin Tyler, began as the camera panned across the two sets of players coming out of the tunnel. "Germany against Switzerland are set to kick off their round of sixteen."

"Evening, Martin," Alan Smith replied beside him. "Not the conditions Löw would have wanted, I don’t think. This pitch is going to get skiddy quickly, and the ball is going to move faster than these Germans are used to at this tempo."

"And speaking of tempo," Tyler picked up, gesturing at the graphic that filled the wraparound screen, "we have a new-look Germany tonight. Four at the back, no three-man defence. Kimmich moves to right-back proper, Gosens on the left, and the front four are Gnabry, Müller, Rex, with Werner leading the line. Kroos and Goretzka form the double pivot. It is the most attacking shape Löw has picked at this tournament."

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Germany: 4-2-3-1

GK: Neuer

LB: Gosens, CB: Rüdiger, Hummels, RB: Kimmich

CDM: Kroos, Goretzka

LM: Rakim, CAM: Müller, RM: Gnabry

ST: Werner

Manager: Joachim Löw

vs

Switzerland: 3-4-1-2

GK: Sommer

CB: Rodríguez, Akanji, Elvedi

LM: Zuber, CM: Xhaka, Freuler, RM: Widmer

CAM: Shaqiri

ST: Seferovic, Embolo

Manager: Vladimir Petković

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"It’s a big shift, Martin," Smith continued, leaning forward slightly. "And I have to say, I have real questions about it. The 3-4-2-1 has been Löw’s baby for two years now. He’s ditched it for what, better wing service? Because he wants two of Rakim, Werner, and Gnabry stretching Switzerland’s back three? That’s a bold gamble, but there are clear compromises."

"Talk us through them."

"Well, first, you’ve got Rüdiger and Hummels as your only two centre-backs, and they are asked to deal with Embolo and Seferovic, both of whom are physical, direct, aerial threats. In a three, you’ve got Ginter tucking in. Tonight, if a ball drops in the box, one of those two has to win it clean, or you’re in trouble. And Hummels, God bless him, is thirty-two years old, and his recovery pace isn’t what it used to be."

"That’s a fair concern, but surely the offensive weapons make up for it?"

"Some of it, certainly," Tyler said, watching the two captains exchange pennants at the centre circle. "But Löw’s logic is simple; Switzerland don’t have express pace out wide, and if Rakim and Gnabry can get one-on-one against wing-backs who are more accustomed to tracking runners than raw speed, they can pry open the lid of the Swiss defence. It’s high risk, but a calculated risk with equally high reward."

The referee checked his watch, glanced at both benches, and blew his whistle. Germany kicked off, rolling the ball back to Kroos, and the stadium’s noise swelled as if someone had turned a dial. "And we are underway here in Bucharest," Tyler said, "under lights, in the drizzle, for a place in the quarter-finals."

[1]

The early exchanges were a cagey affair as Germany worked the ball patiently through Kroos and Goretzka. They probed for gaps, while Switzerland sat compact, content to let their front two hold the width and wait for turnovers. Twice in the first three minutes, Rakim drifted inside looking for the ball between the lines, but like a bad cough, Freuler stuck to him, snuffing out the pass before it could reach him.

"You can already see what the Germans are trying to engineer," Smith said. "He wants to create a fluid attack, but it needs bodies to execute under pressure, and this surface isn’t helping anybody find their first touch."

In the fourth minute, Gosens surged down the left; a quick exchange of a one-two with Rakim allowed him to lose his man on the overlap. Using the space, he whipped in a powerful cross that Sommer punched clear under pressure from Werner. Still, the German fans behind that goal roared their approval, sensing happiness at the early signs of their team.

"That’s the sort of service Löw was after," Tyler noted. "Gosens is looking much more active than he has all tournament."

[6]

Around the sixth minute, the Germans ramped up their pressure, looking to establish their dominance with an early goal. Kimmich won the ball cleanly on the right and drove up the flank quickly, entering the middle third. Exchanging a one-two with Goretzka in the middle, the fullback picked up pace with the return pass.

Skipping past Zuber on the flank, he drove at Rodríguez, forcing the Swiss defender to rapidly retreat. Kimmich shifted the ball onto his stronger foot, shaped as if to cut inside, then burst free on the outside. He slid a low ball across the face of the box that curved into the run of Werner, but before he could get a touch, it was cut out by Elvedi. Diving in at full stretch, the loose ball spilled loose to Xhaka, who quickly sprayed it wide to Widmer under the pressure of Müller.

"Good bit of defending there from the Swiss," Smith said, nodding in approval. "They’re not just sitting off tonight, they’re stepping when they need to."

"They have to," Tyler replied. "Petković knows if he lets Germany build a head of steam in these conditions, on this surface, they’ll be chasing shadows by half-time."

The German pressure continued to build through the middle of the first ten minutes. Müller, dropping deep to link play, exchanged neat one-touch passes with Goretzka, leading to a few chances that utilised the gap between Freuler and Xhaka.

Then, in the ninth minute, Germany won a throw deep in Swiss territory on the left. Gosens took it quickly to Rakim, who cushioned it with his first touch, performing a swift sombrero to lift the ball past his marker. Exploding after it, he whipped in a volleyed cross into the box, sending a low and driven strike aimed at the near post, where Werner was making a darting run.

"Timo Werner," Tyler roared, his voice rising with the ball.

The delivery was true, but Rodríguez managed to deflect the strike at almost point-blank range, sending it looping to the edge of the box. The ball fell kindly to Goretzka at the edge of the box, who took it down with his thigh, looking to drop it to his striking leg. Before he could strike, though, Xhaka dove in pocking the ball away as the two collided with each other.

"Goretzka calls for a foul, but the Argentine referee says play on," Smith announced as the Swiss players surged forward with the force of an angry wave, launching a quick counter. "Shaqiri making up ground through the middle,"

The Swiss star raced up the middle, veering slightly to the right as he fought off Kross, who tried to pin him down. But Shaqiri remained upright, his twinkle toes allowing him to chop the ball back to Freuler, who sent a first-time through ball up the left flank. Zuber, like a race horse relased from the gates, sprinted forward, his feet eating up yards of green.

Trapping the ball in stride, he moved in front of Gnabry, creating some space which he utilised to increase the distance. Kimmich’s excursion up the flank had created a hole in the German rear, and the Swiss left winger made full use of it. Reaching the side of the box in a matter of moments, and immediately floated in a cross looking for the Embolo connection at the far post.

The lethal forward rose high into the air, angling his head at the incoming ball and made the connection. Before he could exert force, though, he crashed into someone from below, completely losing his balance. The ball wildly sailed away, but that was the least of his troubles as he came crashing down hard, barely managing to use his hand to brace his fall.

Referee Fernando Rapallini didn’t hesitate in the slightest, his whistle cutting sharply through the rain, and he pointed straight to the spot. Before the Germans could even think to protest, he reached for his pocket and brandished a yellow card at Hummels, who threw his hands up in protest. On the ground, Embolo writhed in pain, clutching his wrist as the team doctors rushed onto the pitch to treat him.

"Penalty," Tyler said flatly, "and I don’t think there’s much argument in that one."

"None at all," Smith agreed. "Hummels should thank his lucky stars it’s only a yellow. He was completely lost there, not sure what was going on in his head there, poor defending."

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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