viola nation 
25-04-2024 20:56
25-04-2024 20:56
Atalanta 4-1 Fiorentina: 3 things we learned
1. Vincenzo Italiano’s reaction time is glacial. Fiorentina got battered in the first half. Atalanta got the ball forward quickly and attacked the space in front of the defense, getting Charles de Ketelaere or Teun Koopmeiners running with the ball at the back line in a series of 3-v-3 or 2-v-2 breaks. That’s where the first goal came from and the same approach could’ve resulted in 2 or 3 more before halftime.
What Atalanta was doing so well was pretty simple. Gianluca Scamacca and one of de Ketelaere or Koopmeiners would take up a position on the last line, occupying the Viola central defenders. Whichever of CDK and Koopmeiners wasn’t pinning a defender would drop deeper to get on the ball, either via a knockdown from one of the two attackers ahead or from a ball into space from a wingback or midfielder. Whoever was on the ball drove forward unchecked, often from midfield to the edge of the box, and had ample space to shoot or play in a pass. Rolando Mandragora, as the deeper of the Viola pairing, was clearly tasked with tracking that runner. His failure to do so doomed his team. Koopmeiners’ goal, in fact, was one of his better efforts: at least he got in the way, although he knocked the ball into space for the Dutchman to run onto and open the scoring. He was rarely in the vicinity afterwards. For example, on the red card, de Ketelaere strolled from the center circle to the top of the box unchecked; Milenković and Luca Ranieri didn’t want to step forward and leave a space for Scamacca to dart into and backed off the whole way.
There were a number of solutions here. Cristiano Biraghi or Dodô could’ve sat much deeper to offer that spare defender, allowing the centerbacks to step up when necessary. Mandragora could’ve stopped pressing, leaving Lucas Beltrán to drop into midfield out of possession (this was clearly the plan but it was executed poorly). Still, Fiorentina survived it in the first half and remained in the game.
At the half, though, Italiano had to change that up. His team was getting killed through the middle. Bringing in Lucas Martínez Quarta and moving to a 3-4-3 was, to me, the obvious solution: a spare marker in the back and more dynamism building from deep. With Fiorentina bypassing the midfield anyways (more on that in a minute), it’s not like losing a body there would make too much difference. Instead, though, Cousin Vinnie tried to run it back, with predictable results. His failure to react to his team’s obvious weakness resulted in a butt whooping. That’s a concern.
2. A vertical passing game makes no sense for this midfield. I’ve been ambivalent on dropping Giacomo Bonaventura into midfield all year. It works great against teams that want to sit very deep, but in more open games, it’s a disaster. Jack wants to stay higher up (which, as the team’s most creative midfielder, he should) and that leaves his midfield colleague with too much space to cover. That’s why the middle gets overrun (see previous item).
It’s not just the defensive side, though. The idea of putting Jack in the middle is that he gets more touches on the ball, giving him more chances to influence the game going forward. Here, though, Fiorentina played directly from defense to the forwards time and again. Maybe Italiano saw a mismatch he liked, as all 3 forwards—Andrea Belotti, Nico González, and Christian Kouamé—are very good in the air, but they never managed to connect that way to any great effect. Remember, Atalanta’s defenders are all big and strong and good in the air too. That’s not my criticism, though. My criticism is that playing the ball long every time removes any reason to put Jack in that midfield role in the first place. He spent a lot of the game watching the ball fly over his head rather than looking for space on the edge of the box. At that point, why not trot out Alfred Duncan for more physicality and positional responsibility? Or Arthur, who at least sits deeper? If the idea was to play that vertically, you don’t need a creator in the middle. You need a runner. A grinder. And that ain’t Jack.
3. The ball is round but the universe is flat. We came into this one trying to hide our hopefulness. Fiorentina had thrashed Atalanta last time around and Italiano’s record against la Dea is weirdly excellent. With a rested squad, it wasn’t crazy to think that the Viola would get through this tie and make it to the Coppa Italia final. And, as we all know, anything can happen in a single 90 minute game. The ball is round.
Did I fall for this line of thinking? Buddy, you better believe it. “Weird stuff happens in this game all the time,” I told myself. “The whole point is that it’s unpredictable.” That is, after all, the reason they play the games. If it were up to the Juves and the Real Madrids, we’d have the Superleague, giving all the big teams the chance to ignore those fixtures against little teams they ought to beat anyways. What makes the whole thing fun is that that those little teams don’t always cooperate. Sometimes, 4-2 happens. That round ball can bounce in any direction.
What I forgot, of course, is that those bounces are fun because they’re unexpected, and they’re unexpected because they’re unlikely. If the surprising thing happened every time, it wouldn’t be that surprising. Heraclitus was right: everything is in flux. What he forgot to add, though, is that the flux mostly moves downhill. You can map most of this stuff out ahead of time if you’ve got the skill in geometry and enough coordinate points. The ball may be round, but the universe is flat. And that means the better team usually wins.
What Atalanta was doing so well was pretty simple. Gianluca Scamacca and one of de Ketelaere or Koopmeiners would take up a position on the last line, occupying the Viola central defenders. Whichever of CDK and Koopmeiners wasn’t pinning a defender would drop deeper to get on the ball, either via a knockdown from one of the two attackers ahead or from a ball into space from a wingback or midfielder. Whoever was on the ball drove forward unchecked, often from midfield to the edge of the box, and had ample space to shoot or play in a pass. Rolando Mandragora, as the deeper of the Viola pairing, was clearly tasked with tracking that runner. His failure to do so doomed his team. Koopmeiners’ goal, in fact, was one of his better efforts: at least he got in the way, although he knocked the ball into space for the Dutchman to run onto and open the scoring. He was rarely in the vicinity afterwards. For example, on the red card, de Ketelaere strolled from the center circle to the top of the box unchecked; Milenković and Luca Ranieri didn’t want to step forward and leave a space for Scamacca to dart into and backed off the whole way.
There were a number of solutions here. Cristiano Biraghi or Dodô could’ve sat much deeper to offer that spare defender, allowing the centerbacks to step up when necessary. Mandragora could’ve stopped pressing, leaving Lucas Beltrán to drop into midfield out of possession (this was clearly the plan but it was executed poorly). Still, Fiorentina survived it in the first half and remained in the game.
At the half, though, Italiano had to change that up. His team was getting killed through the middle. Bringing in Lucas Martínez Quarta and moving to a 3-4-3 was, to me, the obvious solution: a spare marker in the back and more dynamism building from deep. With Fiorentina bypassing the midfield anyways (more on that in a minute), it’s not like losing a body there would make too much difference. Instead, though, Cousin Vinnie tried to run it back, with predictable results. His failure to react to his team’s obvious weakness resulted in a butt whooping. That’s a concern.
2. A vertical passing game makes no sense for this midfield. I’ve been ambivalent on dropping Giacomo Bonaventura into midfield all year. It works great against teams that want to sit very deep, but in more open games, it’s a disaster. Jack wants to stay higher up (which, as the team’s most creative midfielder, he should) and that leaves his midfield colleague with too much space to cover. That’s why the middle gets overrun (see previous item).
It’s not just the defensive side, though. The idea of putting Jack in the middle is that he gets more touches on the ball, giving him more chances to influence the game going forward. Here, though, Fiorentina played directly from defense to the forwards time and again. Maybe Italiano saw a mismatch he liked, as all 3 forwards—Andrea Belotti, Nico González, and Christian Kouamé—are very good in the air, but they never managed to connect that way to any great effect. Remember, Atalanta’s defenders are all big and strong and good in the air too. That’s not my criticism, though. My criticism is that playing the ball long every time removes any reason to put Jack in that midfield role in the first place. He spent a lot of the game watching the ball fly over his head rather than looking for space on the edge of the box. At that point, why not trot out Alfred Duncan for more physicality and positional responsibility? Or Arthur, who at least sits deeper? If the idea was to play that vertically, you don’t need a creator in the middle. You need a runner. A grinder. And that ain’t Jack.
3. The ball is round but the universe is flat. We came into this one trying to hide our hopefulness. Fiorentina had thrashed Atalanta last time around and Italiano’s record against la Dea is weirdly excellent. With a rested squad, it wasn’t crazy to think that the Viola would get through this tie and make it to the Coppa Italia final. And, as we all know, anything can happen in a single 90 minute game. The ball is round.
Did I fall for this line of thinking? Buddy, you better believe it. “Weird stuff happens in this game all the time,” I told myself. “The whole point is that it’s unpredictable.” That is, after all, the reason they play the games. If it were up to the Juves and the Real Madrids, we’d have the Superleague, giving all the big teams the chance to ignore those fixtures against little teams they ought to beat anyways. What makes the whole thing fun is that that those little teams don’t always cooperate. Sometimes, 4-2 happens. That round ball can bounce in any direction.
What I forgot, of course, is that those bounces are fun because they’re unexpected, and they’re unexpected because they’re unlikely. If the surprising thing happened every time, it wouldn’t be that surprising. Heraclitus was right: everything is in flux. What he forgot to add, though, is that the flux mostly moves downhill. You can map most of this stuff out ahead of time if you’ve got the skill in geometry and enough coordinate points. The ball may be round, but the universe is flat. And that means the better team usually wins.