The taxonomy of football is a difficult and unrewarding science, but two families of attackers that I think we would all recognize are the shambling/slouching/mesmerizingly ill-fitting rogues and the barrel-chested/candid-thighed chargers. The first sort look deceivingly broken-down and loose-limbed, as though their bodies were assembled out of parts that didn’t quite match; away from the ball, they trot like their feet hurt (Pirlo, Berbatov), look fragile through the shoulders (Robben), almost slink; then when it comes their way they slide into weirdly syncopated movements (Ronaldinho), find rhythmic gaps (Henry), exploit their unpredictability. The second sort look strong and are strong (Toni), have precision-engineered deltoids (Drogba), and play straightforwardly (Totti), like old-school supermen (Ballack).
It’s part of the strange magic of Zlatan Ibrahimović that he seems to represent the equatorial point between these two groups, and to embody, completely and simultaneously, their mutually exclusive styles. He’s big and strong, but in a way that suits neither of those adjectives, almost as if his size were a function of agility and his strength were a function of guile. His most surprising moves are performed in a way that makes them seem frank and undesigning, as though he’d found a way to trick you that also confirmed his honesty. His large gracefulness contains just enough of the ungainly to throw you off the track, and his moments of sudden contortion—was there ever a player who looked more comfortable when twisted halfway around?—never look cramped or difficult, or even as though they involve any meaningful physical stress. Watching him is like watching the unspooling thread of a screw, something that confounds the eye simply by being so obvious.
The moment I love most with Ibrahimović is the one in which he gets the ball and, for a second, just stops. He stops better than anyone in football. It paralyzes defenders, and thrills us, because he contains so many contradictory possibilities that no one can guess what he’s about to do. Is he going to slice to the side, whirl around, and shoot while he’s still spinning? Is he going to lurch toward the defender and muscle his way through? The game dilates while he pauses; parallel worlds come crowding in suspense. He holds all that on his foot. However temperamental he is, whether he vanishes in important games or not, he has the power to make a million people lean forward slightly in their seats. To my mind that’s not much smaller than championships.
Read More: Inter, Portraits, Zlatan Ibrahimović
by Brian Phillips · February 26, 2008
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Another great post, Brian. You put it eloquently the few seconds of pause. Indeed, there are so many possibilities in the hands of a master, to make a pass, to burst through, do a shimmy, to shoot…
His individual skills are a sight to behold but his effect on the team is not as profound as what I will like to see.
A charming article, but I’m not sure Ibrahimovic is in the same class as some of the other strikers you mention. He’ll never be make the impact Henry, Ronaldinho, Totti or Drogba has and, after seeing him disappear for 90 minutes against Liverpool last week, he needs to deliver on the biggest stage on a regular basis to convince me I’m afraid.
Again – he’s a revelation. Some of them make you love football more for what they can do with the game, some make you love it more with how they play it, and Zlatan fulfils both criteria for me, in a way that goes beyond caring what the tangible consequences of his being on the pitch are. I can’t think of anyone else in football who does that for me — Pirlo, a little, but he deals a bit more in ineffable geometries than Zlatan does, which can make him less effective and less of a made-for-TV delight [as you once said yourself, I think.]
Bet Blogger,
let’s just keep in mind that Drogba has had only one good season in his whole career-and he’s thirty; Henry has never been a big game player for mine and his five *HUGE* finals appearances for zero goals confirms that; Totti is another one who has sometimes disappointed on the big stage, especially for the Azzuri. I’m not sure if Brian had this in mind but at the least they are apt on this account.