There were passages in the game when even the most invested fans turned their heads away, their eyes wandered, their conversation drifted to the England-like weather (though the Bostonians would claim it was so very Boston in summer). Some hollered out the names of the substitutes, and indisputably the bench was stacked with individuals that could pinch England three points, many that could conjure a spasm of invention. It needed an individual act of brilliance rather than a structural rejig.
On cue, Tuchel rang in the tweaks. The Arsenal pair of Eberchi Eze and Bukayo Saka strode in. But not that it punctured Ghana’s belief in their defensive durability. They blocked and blocked until they could block no more. Another England fan cribbed: “It’s worse than losing. Tell me one decent shot on goal.” Just then, England had their most incisive spell in the game. Saka whipped the ball fiercely goal-wards, but for the goalkeeper Benjamin Asare’s bold intervention. The next minute Nico O”Reilly headed the ball fearsomely into the crossbar. The rebound fell into Harry Kane’s path. It was difficult to control the ball from close range, but well within the superior prowess. He skied the ball into the upper tiers, to wrap off a forgettable day when both his precision and imagination deserted him. And so it ended. “A sticky day,” a fan consoled his gutted friends. England fans thanked them for their support, after the game, but indifference splashed on their face. Another gushed: “Same old England.”
Then, from the dugout emerged a familiar figure for English Premier League watchers, that of the sagely Carlos Queiroz, Alex Ferguson’s trusted accomplice in Manchester United’s halcyon days, a human treatise on defensive tactics. A legendary story goes. Before the 2008 Champions League semifinal between United and Barcelona. To nullify Barcelona’s passing carousel, as he classified the tactic, he placed gym mats between the two midfielders, Michael Carrick and Paul Scholes, and the two defenders, Rio Ferdinand and Wes Brown. The ball was not allowed to touch the mats in any situation. For two long weeks, they trained just this, refined it to perfection, and kept Barcelona goalless across both ties.
Ghana defended stoutly and deeply, but not cynically, rather clinically. An immovable barricade of yellow blocked out all probable paths to the goal. Like the pawns that protect the queen on a chess board, England manager’s Thomas Tuchel’s favourite past-time, Ghana built a human fortress around the goalmouth. England had to breach several firewalls to at least have a sniff on goal. When defending, which they endeavoured for most of the time, they morphed from a 4–4-1 to more like 5-4-1. Whenever England were presented with half a shooting chance, and they were off-balanced, they flung their bodies at the ball. England came closest when Declan Rice soared a meaty free kick over goalkeeper Asare. Rice later appreciated Ghana’s defensive rigours: “You have to give them credit. 5-4-1 without the ball, very compact, tight spaces to play through.”
They were not merely defending in numbers, but defending intelligently. The speed in covering spaces was incredible, giving England as little time on the ball as possible. The defensive block was not stationary, they shape-shifted according to the situation. Slowly, England grew ponderous, self-doubts crept in. In the first half, Ghana enjoyed barely 10 percent possession, but their sole purpose was to frustrate England, just as England’s was to press unblinkingly and hope Ghana eventually surrendered to their pressure.
Like desperate sleuths plucking the suspects’ nails to gush out the truth, England resorted to all degree tactics to crack the resolute Ghanian wall. In-game adjustments ensued. Jude Bellingham was thrust into a playmaker’s role, operating just behind Kane, whose first meaningful attempt came in the dying minutes of the first half, only for the telescopic legs of Marvin Senaye to deflect the ball away. Neither side managed a single shot on goal in the first half.
This was England’s sternest proposition, to dismember low blocks. They required a moment of ingenuity, a genius’s brushstroke, a burst of ethereal creativity. Nothing came to pass, the game meandered in its usual riffs. It was England’s failure at a tactical as well, their inability to carry the ball through crowded defence. Like France’s Michael Olise, or Spain’s Lamine Yamal. Akin to English champions Arsenal, a set piece seemed the likeliest goal-scoring avenue. But even set-pieces fell flat on the face of a defensive rearguard directed by the master of defensive coups.
