TOMKINS: MY DAY WITH RAFA Paul Tomkins 23 October 2009
	If Anfield is the outer appearance of Liverpool FC – its face, its skin, its very public expressions – then Melwood is its heart, its guts, its nervous system.
When Rafa Benítez personally invites me to meet him for lunch at the legendary training ground, Liverpool have just seen their six-game winning streak come to an end in Italy, but things are still looking good. There is no agenda; just a long overdue chance to say hello, and say thank-you for taking the time to write for this site for four years. And it is still only a few months ago that Real Madrid and Manchester United were thrashed, and a genuine title challenge was mounted. By the time the meeting takes place, the newspapers are full of 'crisis' talk, just months after the best league season that any late-teen Red will have lived through. (The kind of late-teen now spouting off on internet forums about his ineptitude, not that they can conjure such words.) Inadvertently, I am entering the eye of the storm. Or so I expect. The world is chattering about Benitez and his future, and here I am, about to spend part of the morning and almost the entire afternoon with him, chatting one-to-one about the club we both love. Melwood has clearly come a long way since the days Bill Shankly turned up to find a glorified flea pit. Space-age facilities, pitches that put the lawns at Hampton Court to shame, and a bold red decor; but all fenced off from the world, and autograph hunters, by the same old breeze block brick wall. I glance across at the legendary hill, constructed for gruelling trudges up and down, and the target boxes divided into nine squares, each with a number painted, the like of which I recall from pictures of Shankly's time. But otherwise it's from another planet, not just another era. Having been on the Kop for the visit of Lyon, I dread the mood as the final 20 minutes sees a win turn to defeat, and more players limp off. I half expect Rafa to cancel, and for everyone to be in a foul mood; a time for inquests and recriminations. However, I encounter no such despair; morale seems okay (if, understandably, no-one is performing cartwheels and dancing on tables like the cast of Fame). Admittedly I have no prior experience of the place to compare it with, but I am buoyed by the aura. I get to see some of the training, but of course, there aren't a lot of fit senior players out there, and it's only a short, gentle session after the night before. Around noon, Rafa greets me warmly for the second time that day, only now I will have his full, undivided attention. We head to his office, and within minutes he's sketching formations on scraps of loose paper. Despite the ever-widening criticism, this is a man who, over the previous four seasons, has seen his team average 78 points in the league; or the grand total with which Arsene Wenger won his first title. The team Rafa inherited averaged 62 points in its final two seasons. This is a man who has raised around £100m in Champions League qualification and progress, and reached two finals. This is not the ‘70s and ‘80s, when success bred success, as two geniuses held the reins for 24 years, before two other top managers kept things ticking over (and in Dalglish's case, to a new level of aesthetic brilliance). This is also not the '90s, when Graeme Souness, enjoying the last time the club was as relatively rich as its rivals (pre-Premier League boom, pre-United marketing machine, pre-billionaire backers), broke British records on spending to try and get the Reds back to the top, only to turn them into also-rans. And so I meet Benítez during a bad spell for the club, but a bad three months; not a bad three years, to point to the record of one of his critics this week. Some more context. At the end of last season, having shown them their best six months in over a decade, Martin O'Neill was being vilified by the Villains. Now he's great again. Arsene Wenger was being gunned at by Gunners, now he's back on track. Top managers have bad spells. It happens Rafa makes it clear that I am here so that he can say thank-you for my efforts over the past five years, and to let me know that he's impressed by how much I get right about him and his methods; he finds it unusual that someone takes the time and makes the effort. Of course, this being Rafa, he points out a couple of things I've got wrong. (I like this: it makes me feel that he is being totally straight with me; and he's clearly right about what I got wrong, as later demonstrated when we get into more depth about how the team defends set-pieces than most people will be privy to.) Equanimous The word I'd use to describe the manager is 'equanimous', which my dictionary notes as 'mental calmness, composure, and evenness of temper, esp. in a difficult situation'. If he doesn't punch the air in victory, he also won't punch a player in defeat. But this is not to say that he is not passionate; on several topics he gets very animated. His love for the club is clear. His desire to succeed his clear. His burning ambition to get the most out of what he has at his disposal is clear. I find him a warm, welcoming man – nothing like the ludicrous 'cold' stereotype – and Melwood is the epitome of calming professionalism. Other staff members point out that they've seen him give lots of encouragement to players, and certainly offers a human touch. Yes, the conversation is almost exclusively about football, but his office has enough reminders of his family life outside the game to show that he is not some soulless robot, and his humour is clear. And anyway, he didn't invite me there to talk about that week's Strictly Come Dancing, did he? We spend almost four hours over lunch in his personal meeting room, and afterwards in his office, going through tactics, personnel, and almost anything else you care to mention. It is such a natural, easy conversation, at times I have to remind myself who I am talking with; and 'with' is the right word. At no point does he talk at me. And in person, his English is easier to understand than it is with a microphone thrust in his face. (For the record, I took no notes, nor made any recordings; it was just two men talking football.) After several diagrams sketched on A4 sheets, he leads me to the canteen and shows me the day's healthy selection. As I stand trying to decide, Alberto Aquilani taps him on the shoulder to ask about the reserve game later that night. They talk briefly in Italian. The boss turns back, and approves of my choice: paella, which I was pleasantly surprised to find amid the pasta dishes. Later we discuss the new Italian midfielder: an independent expert had told the club that he would be fit for the end of August, but that ended up being pushed back and back. It was frustrating, but Rafa was very happy with what he was now seeing in training - the lad has vision and technique - even if he obviously still has to adapt to the pace of the English game. He points out that John Arne Riise ('a good lad') has just texted him to once again to offer his support, and to say Liverpool have got a real gem in Aquilani. (I like that a player the manager has sold still texts his old boss; no signs of a lack of affection there, even if Rafa makes it clear that it is obviously not his job to be best mates with his charges.) It was a difficult summer, Rafa explains, with Alonso determined to leave and Barcelona niggling away at Mascherano. Time To Go? We are briefly interrupted at different times by Sammy Lee and Frank McParland, and I am introduced to both: intense, driven men who share Rafa's desire for success, and the trustworthy sign of a firm handshake. I'm not sure if the meeting is supposed to last as long as it is, and I keep asking the boss if he has something else to be doing; but he's taken training, the physios are doing their job, and Rafa isn't about to knock off early. It may have been a few hours, but it's only a small part of his working day. Even so, I can see how eager he is to have the world understand his ideas, especially when ex-players and the vast majority of the media are clearly hostile and keen to misrepresent him; he knows that unlike some of his rivals, he doesn't have friends in high places, such as Fleet Street, Sky TV, the League Managers' Association and the FA. (These are my assumptions; he gives no specifics. But it's not hard to see which managers work the system for their advantage through old pals networks, and which clubs have greater influence in certain areas.) Whenever I think I'd better leave him in peace, we get onto another subject. Zonal marking pops up. So, too, does Rafa – from his seat, demonstrating positioning, who should be where, against the backdrop of his broad office window's glare. This isn't enough. A DVD from his extensive library is slipped into the machine, and now he's showing me how what Liverpool deploy is actually a mix of both zonal and man-marking. I am shown who should be where, and what each individual's job is; how that job changes depending on which foot the taker is using (inswinger/outswinger); and how there is as much personal responsibility as the alternative – everyone knows their job. Then he takes me, beat by beat, through other teams, and the gross failings of some man-markers, and also points out several players who, despite being labelled man-markers, are marking zones! (men on the posts, and others dotted here and there.) We look at a side who are very successful at defending set-pieces, and he shows me how they defend a similar way to the Reds (and holy cow, they do!); they just happen to have a lot of tall players. It suddenly occurs to me that if every individual critic of Rafa's could sit down and have a similar conversation, they'd be converted. At the very least, they'd be a lot wiser. That wouldn't mean they'd suddenly feel mistakes still aren't made: every signing can go bad, every substitution comes with a risk, and so on. You can make the right decisions and get unlucky, and make the wrong decisions and get good fortune. Stubborn People inevitably say that Rafa is stubborn, but I don't know one top manager who doesn't have the courage of his convictions. Personally, I don't want a manager who has one set of beliefs one week, and who then changes his mind the next. If you know something works more often than not, you stick with it when it's not; changing is not the answer. For example, four years of having either the best, or one of the best, set-piece records (defensively), is to be taken more seriously than a spell of ten games. And anyway, will total man-marking make Insua or Mascherano 6ft 5? And people will criticise his decisions, such as playing three at the back at Sunderland; ignoring that previous deployments of the system, though infrequent, had proved successful. We discuss the irony of the boos over removing Benayoun (whom he felt had played well, but run himself to a standstill) when a year earlier, the general consensus was that 'he wasn't fit to wear the shirt'. And of course, there was the issue of confidence. The night before, Liverpool had at last found some of this precious elixir after taking the lead; but as soon as Lyon equalised, you could see it visibly drain away. That happens when things aren't going your way. Rafa tells me of Luis Aragonés' saying 'You can't buy confidence in Marks & Spencers'. There is no magic wand, no secret message, no miraculous injection; you can only keep plugging away, doing the right thing, and hope that it changes. We've all seen a striker who can't score for love nor money, then one goes in off his backside and he's bubbling again. That same thing can happen with a team; except on top of individual struggles, that undefinable 'wavelength' confidence goes askew as well. Everyone is hesitant, in their passing and in their movement. The same group of players who were passing-and-moving to near-perfection in the second half of last season (even when Alonso was absent) haven't suddenly forgotten how to play football. With candour, Benítez admits to some mistakes, particularly in the transfer market, but points out that he had to gamble on cheaper players when his first choices were out of reach. We discuss how, for example, people accuse him of wasting money on Dossena ('a top pro', he says, but one who has struggled with the system), yet one reason the Italian isn't in the side is the emergence of Insua – a very shrewd buy. Whether or not Dossena would eventually come good (if given playing time) almost becomes moot; Insua, for around £1m, is excelling. Insua could now well be worth much more than the fee paid for both him and Dossena, but people will only focus on the negative. Although he doesn't say so, if Insua had cost £7m and Dossena £1m, there'd be no problem. So ... what's the problem? (And that's before adding Aurelio, a free transfer; three international left-backs, two of whom can also play in midfield, for £8m.) Later on, as I get the full tour, we pass one lesser known teenage reserve, and Rafa, pulling me to one side so the kid can't hear, makes it clear that this lad has something about him. "Look out for him." Overhaul One subject that I bring up is the number of players he's accused of buying. He grabs the white A4, and draws out lists of how many first team players he inherited that were just not good enough (roughly half). He does the same with the reserve team (almost every player), and then the youth team (every player bar one). It turns out to be around 50 players in total. So when he is accused of buying far too many players, he points out that he had little choice; that many were bought because they were better than what was already there, even if, with youngsters, you can never guarantee who will make the grade, or how quickly they will progress. And even a 17-year-old needs a professional contract. He wonders why there is this obsession with all these signings, when every big club stocks its youth and reserve teams with imports and purchases. My take is this: if you have 50 players at a club (from top to bottom) who you believe are not good enough – and therefore they need to go – you will not replace them sufficiently with 50 signings. The law of averages say that some new purchases will get injured, some will not settle, some will turn out to be 'not as advertised' (i.e. they couldn't do what was asked of them, or, though well-scouted, were not as good when seen in your team. Some will have been poorly scouted, hence Benítez's desire to improve that side of things.) Make 50 signings, and maybe, with a good wind, 25 will be successes of varying degrees, from acceptable to outstanding; far less if you're talking about teenagers, who can fail to develop or lose focus. It might take three years to make those 50 signings, and you may still be very short at every level of the club. So to get the next 25, you might need to buy 50 more, by which time some of the successes have left for varying reasons. So it's a constant process of improvement, hampered by the financial inability to shop for more than the occasional established world-class player. Before I leave, I get the full guided tour by the boss (known simply as 'boss' to every player), and at the front doors, Rafa shakes my hand not once but twice. He smiles warmly, wishes me well, pats me on the shoulder, and I can't help but think 'crisis? What crisis?'

TOMKINS: WIN TOGETHER, LOSE TOGETHER Paul Tomkins 19 October 2009
	Earlier in the week I'd promised to take my son to see the new Disney Pixar film, 'Up', on Saturday evening.
Shortly after getting seated, any hopes I harboured that my mind would be taken off the defeat at Sunderland were swept away; typical, then, that this particular film should be based on the amazing powers of inflatable spheres. There are definitely grounds for concern with four defeats in nine league games. But I thought Rafa Benítez's post-match comments were very honest, and unlike the ploy of some managers, not at all diversionary. The league is very open this year, and no side is without its problems. But clearly Rafa was disappointed with the performance, and didn't hide from that fact, even though the winning (and game-changing) goal was both a fluke and against the laws of the game. I write this piece with the disappointment of this performance as a given. I am not glossing over that disappointment. Liverpool need to play better in the next two games (and, I feel, almost certainly will play better.) But this is not the time or place to throw in the towel. A win next weekend, in another tough game, will alter both the chances of the league title and everyone's mood. Liverpool's woes have been slightly exaggerated by the nature of the fixture list; it's been an incredibly tough start away from home. The Reds have already gone to three of the current top seven (as I write). So that skews things. However, that's the way football works; sometimes you get a good fixture list, other times it's more demanding. This was always a pig of a fixture, even before the freak goal gave the home side the boost to end all boosts. Any side going away from home to face buoyant opposition needs a good start to quieten the noisy crowd; that certainly wasn't the case here. It's hard to say how much that changed the game, but the beach ball certainly didn't help an under-strength Liverpool settle into proceedings. Benítez had just seen his players jetting all over the world, and in the case of two attacking players, for a friendly in Australia of all places (I mean, come on!). It's a bit catch-22 when you buy such quality, as you know they can potentially struggle after international break, especially those who have to travel outside of Europe, like the South Americans. Also, Liverpool's two best players came back crocked after representing their respective countries, and if that isn't a leveller, I don't know what is. Sunderland have gone down another route: quite an expensive team, but mostly with not-quite-internationals; a collection of strong Premiership players rather than outstanding ones, and a dogged attitude. So they were always going to be ten times fresher. On occasions like this, Liverpool's disruption suited their host's fast-pressing game, where freshness was always going to be a factor. Benítez, who was facing the manager who has caused him more problems in the league than any other, had to weigh up whether it was better to go with a stronger but more jet-lagged side, or hope to get more from some squad players. Either way there was an element of a gamble, and neither way is ever ideal. It didn't work out, but then Sunderland should have had all three points away at Man United last time out, after a quite brilliant display. So anyone who thought this was an easy fixture is living in dreamland, even before the international break was taken into consideration. The problem with playing tired players is that it then carries over into the next game; and then the game after, especially when in a run of unenviable fixtures. This is a horrible week in that sense: a manager will want to start with a win to take into each successive game, but he knows something will give. In the book "Why England Lose", Simon Kuper notes what the head of AC Milan's 'Milan Lab', which is 'probably the most sophisticated medical outfit in football', says about playing 50 tough games a year: "The performance is not optimal. The risk of injury is very high. We can say the risk of injury after one game, after one week's training, is 10%. If you play after two days, the risk rises by 30 or 40%. If you are playing four or five games consecutively without the right recovery, the risk of injury is incredible. The probability of having one lesser performance is very high." And of course, this does not take into account the additional strain of long distance travel, or the emotional drain of, for example, captaining your country in two must-win World Cup qualifiers amid a backdrop of feverish hysteria. So picking a Liverpool side this weekend must have been an incredibly difficult process. There are further extenuating circumstances (rather than excuses). Only last week I said that the Reds weren't having any luck with referees this season. This latest technically incorrect decision is yet another example of the officials getting it wrong to the probable cost of Liverpool points. I'm not sure I can remember a run of fixtures when there hasn't at least been a hint of decisions evening up. The Reds, playing exactly the same way, could easily have five extra points now just from poor judgement calls or a failure to implement the correct rules. Plenty of other big teams have played as poorly this season as Liverpool did at Sunderland or Spurs, but got fortuitous own goals or generous refereeing decisions; when, rather than make their own luck, they've been handed it. I agree that if can often go both ways, but this season that hasn't happened. I accept that it always seems slightly pathetic to talk about the officials, as if you have to accept whatever comes your way. The same applies when blaming the fixture list, or injuries. These are all real factors that affect the result on any given week, and then affect the confidence going into the next game. Some managers heap intolerable pressure onto officials, and that's not the Benítez way. Given the situation going into a very tricky fixture, and the worst of luck in the 4th minute, this is when football management seems a thankless task. For instance, while Liverpool have proven time and again in the recent past (just last season!) that they can win without Gerrard and Torres, it stands to reason that the team will be more likely to do so with them present. It also means that those playing in their place, who are the next-strongest players, will not be on the bench to come on and change things. So that lessens a manager's options, no matter how strong his squad. Of course, Liverpool no longer possess Alonso, nor (quite yet) his ‘replacement', Alberto Aquilani. So that's one further potential match-winner absent. Gerrard, Torres and Aquilani may well be the main attacking unit for the rest of the season. I fully respect Rafa's decision to buy a player he believes in for the long-term, rather than compromise by getting someone less gifted who would be ready for August. I don't think anyone expected at least four games to have been lost before the Italian even makes his bow. Also, Liverpool haven't had quite the Jamie Carragher of old; the defender has been very candid in admitting he's not been at his best this season. However, if anyone has done enough to deserve a bit of slack being cut, it's Carra. It's almost automatic to write off anyone over the age of 30 if their form dips, but if you can read the game (and he can!) then you can play centre-half until your mid-30s, if not beyond. And you can't buy the kind of leadership and kinship with the club that he offers. But as a team, and as an individual, whether you play brilliantly or indifferently, you usually need a bit of luck at the right time. You probably make your own luck more often when your play merits it, and there's a case for saying that the Reds haven't deserved it on occasions this season. But equally, they haven't deserved the really bad breaks, and the lack of any fortunate ones. It's only part of the story, of course, but it's an important part, all the same. In the first nine games last season, the Reds, while far from lucky (disallowed goal against Stoke?) had better fortune, and it helped build the foundations of a title challenge, even though the form was equally patchy. The truth is that a few wins will quickly change the complexion of the table. If people don't believe those wins will come, that's up to them; just as people have the right to believe that they can. And it's almost certain that the biggest clubs will drop a greater number points against the next tier of teams, as seen with Aston Villa already scalping Liverpool and Chelsea, and with Sunderland taking points off the Reds and Man United. Spurs are also more of a threat, and of course, Manchester City now have the costliest squad in the country, and have already hammered Arsenal 4-1. Ultimately, the amount of defeats a team suffers will never be the defining factor; points on the board will decide everyone's fate, once each side has faced one another home and away. Never before in 120 years of league football history had a team lost just two games and not won the league. Rarely, if ever, can the team that won the league have lost twice as many games as the team that finished runners-up. Records are broken all the time. By pulling together, the Reds can break another. It's only a few months since the Reds racked up their best points tally in 20 years. Without any draws to date, there's still a chance that Liverpool could lose three times as many games as in 2008/09 and still end up even closer to the title.

TOMKINS' CHELSEA REVIEW Paul Tomkins 05 October 2009
	While I admit to feeling like Liverpool's hopes were over after three games, I actually feel the opposite now, after a third defeat.
Those first two defeats really bothered me; this latest one didn't. The key was to get some wins under the belt after losing two out of the opening three, and that happened; otherwise the hole could have got quite deep. But now, the table is still so tight that a couple more wins in quick succession can easily change things. I do get sick of the “yes they can”/”No they can't” guff that surrounds every big team after a win or a defeat. It's a manic depressive state of analysis. Viewed dispassionately, it's ludicrous. Six points off the pace at this stage is not ideal, but equally it's nothing to panic about, particularly with Chelsea and United able to drop points cheaply, as they have at places like Wigan and Burnley; and with United's squad looking weaker than last season, and Chelsea due to lose almost half a team to the African Nations. I'm also curious to see how Chelsea's ageing team copes come the spring, especially as they have for once escaped injury problems to their major players (which helps them very much for now, but could lead to burnout for the thirtysomethings.) Of course, the Reds will still need to be in the mix, but I think that's easily possible. I felt that Liverpool were marginally the better team at Stamford Bridge, but Chelsea were more clinical in front of goal. On that score, they will argue that they deserved the points, and that argument always carries water, but they didn't impress me as much as they have in the past. I felt they had all the luck. Unlike the Fiorentina game, this was a match Benítez's men didn't deserve to lose, and had a penalty been awarded at 0-0 for a foul by the unusually upright Drogba on Skrtel, the table might look very different now. Unusually wayward misses from Torres and Benayoun summed up the day in the final third, but on the whole there was much to be encouraged by, particularly from some of the less-heralded players, and the return to form of both centre-backs (even if Carragher did get beaten for the second goal). All last season we were told that draws cost the Reds. Draws draws draws. Doesn't matter if you gamble and lose, but avoid the draws. Well, there have been no draws this season. We were told that it's not beating the big teams that counts, it's beating the little ‘uns. So is that no longer true? Going into the Chelsea game, the Reds were actually a point up on the corresponding fixtures from 2008/09. That's fairly remarkable given the criticism that's been aimed at Liverpool since the summer. The Chelsea game shows that season-to-season comparisions cannot be totally trusted, mainly because the order of the games affects the momentum, and run of the ball can affect any single result. But Liverpool still have plenty of 2008/09 draws to turn into wins, to get back on course for more than 86 points, if such a high tally is needed this year. And take a team like Arsenal: Liverpool could afford to lose against them this season, but if they win the other they'll end up with more points than from the two draws last time. And anyway, how many teams win at Chelsea two years running? For the last 20 years, any kind of victory there has been a rare event. Defeat in Italy and defeat at Chelsea are a million miles away from the results that unduly bother me. And October was always going to be a hellishly difficult month. Remember, Liverpool have gone to two of the current top three sides in the country. That is far from a balanced fixture list, and that provides me with a calming optimism. There are far tougher games still to be played at Anfield, but it was the supposedly easy ones that caused problems last time around. There's no denying that Liverpool have contributed to some of their own reversals this season, but there are other issues, too. I have to say that I haven't been too impressed with the refereeing this season, and had mentioned the timekeeping issue even before United got their inexplicable never-ending injury time to avoid what should have been two more dropped points, in the Manchester derby. Liverpool just don't get those unfathomable decisions in their favour. Liverpool failed to get even the allotted added time at Spurs to claw back a point, and conceded the crucial second against Villa when there was no earthly reason to go beyond the one added minute. Penalty decisions aren't going the Reds' way either, with about four stonewallers waved away, and lesser offences, like Carragher's shoulder barge on Zavon Hines less of a foul than the clattering of Voronin at Spurs, where the Reds were poor but could have scraped the kind of lucky draw United got at the weekend. Meanwhile, Skrtel was pushed over by Drogba and nothing was given, yet the Chelsea striker has an air ambulance on standby every time he sneezes. While I don't believe that these things even themselves out (after all, that would need a conscious decision by some omniscient being), you have to hope that the Reds' luck improves in line with that of their rivals. While on the subject of luck and fairness, I have total sympathy for Lucas Leiva in terms of the press he gets. The whole team plays poorly in Italy, yet he gets singled out. While I felt he really struggled in the first half of last season, I see no such problems this time around. But still the stigma remains attached. There are probably reasons for this. If he was English, he'd be lauded for his workrate, feverish closing down and generally very good (if unspectacular) use of the ball. Because he's Brazilian, he has to fit a stereotype. That doesn't sit easily with people with no imagination. I've seen some idiotic comments in the press like he's “the most un-South American player I've ever seen”; as if, as a Brazilian, you have no worth unless you're a stepover king. At Stamford Bridge, Liverpool actually won the battle of the midfield, and Lucas played a massive part in that. The Reds lost largely because Chelsea's strikers had a better day in front of goal, and not because of the balance of play (dictated by Lucas and Mascherano) or chances created. As a psychology student helpfully pointed out to me during a discussion on my new website: “The ‘truth effect' comes when a message is repeated enough, then the receiver of the message will accept it as fact.” Lucas made many positive contributions to the Hull thrashing, with two forceful, direct forward passes leading to goals two and five, as well as getting to the byline for the sixth. But along with not being stereotypically Brazilian, he is criticised for not being Xabi Alonso. Which, to me, seems grossly unfair. Liverpool had their best-ever scoring start to the season, so how can Lucas, a league ever-present, be to blame for a “lack of creativity” that clearly isn't there? I thought Liverpool were creative against Chelsea, too, without ever tearing through them, but then this is a world-renowned defensive set-up, at home, and by the end, forced to defend in great numbers. Liverpool were no worse than in the fixture a year ago, but crucially, Chelsea were much improved, and the Reds didn't have that crucial slice of luck. I therefore believe that the ‘truth effect' to be very much in evidence with Lucas, as it so clearly is with zonal marking. Watch Liverpool defend a set-piece, and count the times ‘zonal marking' is discussed in negative terms. Watch a team defend man-marking, and you'll only get “great run/great cross/great header” if the ball goes in. I've been saying this very thing for years, but almost collapsed when Gordon Strachan pointed this out after the Sunderland vs Wolves game. Then again, he's managed at the top level using both man-marking and zonal, and he said that both work equally well, and that it just depends on what your players are comfortable with. How dare he talk such sense? Against Chelsea, I noticed that after every excellent Mascherano challenge or even just harrying, there was a positive mention from the commentators, but Lucas, who made loads of excellent contributions was only mentioned after mistakes. Go and watch the game again, and you'll see this to be true. The truth effect: bear it in mind next time you find yourself being told something time and again, its message driven into your brain like a hypnotist's mantra.