The man to end all debates - Lionel, Scaloni
Written by Ruairidh Barlow
For decades, Argentina have searched for the right answers to the debate that has defined football in the country. Two World Cups eight years apart in which only Daniel Passarella spanned both squads in the final, and he didn’t play the second. One, led by the loose shirts and airy ideas of César Luis Menotti (1978). The other by the sharp-suited and military operation of Carlos Bilardo (1986). Two diametrically opposed schools of thought. Menottismo was about winning football matches through philosophy, creativity and brio. Bilardismo was about winning football matches through conservativism, uniformity and discipline. At resting temperature, one is a liquid and the other a solid. And while both have had predecessors and successors, there have been variants and developments, Argentinian football has roughly divided itself between the two.
With their golden generation Argentina had tried it all. Lionel Messi has been played and placed in every which way. In 2010, Diego Maradona was given the chance to lead by divine intervention, perhaps the man with the golden touch could inspire victory through sheer force of character. As if by simply uniting the two great geniuses of Argentinian football history in a single image, it would conjure up a World Cup between them.
On our sliding scale, the late Alejandro Sabella falls clearly on the Bilardista side of the debate. Brazil watched on in 2014 as a stingy team inched their way to the brink of glory, one block at a time. A side that waited for the one moment that would give them something to defend. Famously, Javier Mascherano tore his anus protecting his goal – that he had as much claim to be their best player of the tournament alongside Messi corresponded perfectly with their football.
Four years later, France would tear Argentina apart in dramatic fashion. Jorge Sampaoli is expressly Bielsista in his own methodology, but those ideas lie closer to Menotti in mindset. The ball was to be theirs, and with it they sought to sweep the opposition off their feet with electric combinations.
What then, is Lionel Scaloni? What was this Argentina side? Following that defeat in 2018, the Argentine Football Association were out of ideas, and more pertinently, out of money. Back in the era when Messi was paying for their flights across South America out of his own pocket, Sampaoli’s assistant Scaloni was given the job on a temporary basis. With no senior experience of management, he was eventually handed a permanent contract.
Picture this Argentina in your mind’s eye and what you see is passion, grit and grinta. Others might highlight the aggression, bite and well, s***housery. Follow the neural pathway on, and you might recall their collective spirit. All running hard, pushing until it hurt and seeking that suffering that according to Rodrigo de Paul, they were born for. If a player missed a tackle or a pass, a lavish chain of Argentinian expletives flowed. But right after came their mate, bursting a gut to ensure the damage was controlled. At the same time, it was also a World Cup run dotted with moments of individual brilliance from Messrs Messi, Enzo Fernández and Emiliano Martínez.
Their second goal against France is liquid gold, enough to caffeinate even the weariest football fan. Up there with the very finest in the tournament, the Albiceleste move up the pitch in seven touches and ten seconds. Alexis Mac Allister plays an out-turn that curlers dream of when they get down to the final end. It was of an aesthetic value that belongs in a Joga Bonito advert, or perhaps even a famous French art gallery.
Then there was the other side of the coin. Against the Netherlands, Scaloni added an extra central defender and let them have the ball for large swathes of the match. Argentina open the scoring through a Messi pass that looks unique to him. Only he could have found Nahuel Molina through the death star gap. There, the parallels with Maradona the player returned.
When the going got tough, they added dynamite. Fierce scraps, defiant celebrations and even Messi shooting his mouth – if in a sort of comically PG manner. The match before, Argentina dropped off against Australia too, adding a third defender to see out their two-goal lead. As a standalone statement, it sounds satirical.
Over the course of the tournament, Scaloni started with three different formations and used every outfield player in his squad. Most games included at least two variations on shape and often mentality. While they were shaken by Saudi Arabia, Netherlands and France for spells, rarely did this team seem unclear on what they wanted to do. Without pretending Scaloni is a saint who got everything right, although he may find he is back in Buenos Aires, it worked. Ending droughts in each competition that lasted 28 years and 36 years respectively, two trophies in 18 months attest to that.
After Gonzalo Montiel’s penalty, Scaloni barely reacts. There are some hugs, a few grimaces, perhaps trying to hold himself together. In fact, he goes back to his bench, sits in the dugout, and has a drink of water. Eventually he stands, and walks back to the pitch – and starts heaving out great big bodily sobs. The tears of a human entirely overcome. The man with not a single match of experience in senior management four years ago had won the greatest trophy of them all.
With no mission statement, he refused to put himself or his side in a box. In an AFA polo, without a suave blazer, a sharp suit, a grandiose vision nor a stern system. His Argentina were the example of a collective; yet every player in their starting XI was given the chance to shine individually. Scaloni, Pablo Aimar, Walter Samuel and Roberto Ayala interpreted the game and their own players.
Scaloni has ended the great Argentinian football debate. Here is definitive proof that there is space for both Menottismo and Bilardismo not just in the same team, but in the same game. Here is a truce between two warring ideologies. Here is La Tercera, a third way and a third World Cup.