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Monday, Mar 10, 2014 - 01:01 SGT
Posted By: Gilbert

A Post In Three Parts


Deary Me

40.04% grievance of the week stems from a survey by the Economist Intelligence Unit, which puts Singapore as the world's most expensive city to live in, beating even the Swiss representatives into sixth - and that's for Geneva proper. The incumbent response has been that the measurement is only valid for expatriates, while a (local) study by the Asia Competitiveness Institute puts us at 61st for natives.

This pronouncement has brought forth numerous rebuttals, key among them being that the relevant minister's usage of "fillet mignon" and other atas goods to insinuate that they are not representative of an ordinary citizen's consumption, ignores the fact that the actual selection used is far more inclusive. I suppose the truth is, again, somewhere in between, but it should be remembered that that is no cheap hinterland for Singaporeans to retreat to under cost-of-living pressure, unlike in larger countries. They're tightening the population tap, but until really serious wide-spectrum attempts to boost fertility are made (as the HardwareZone forum regulars are only too happy to insist), it's just duct tape.


C'mon, pull out the big guns

Further on this, an NUS prof has been gently prodded to tone down his rhetoric against girls who like girls, which progressive Islam is supposedly okay with (who knew?). That said, from what I can tell, the general attitude here ranges from meh to strong curiosity, depending on what the females in question look like. Though given the utter pragmatism and profit-centeredness of our incumbent pack, perhaps they were looking at some venture funding (too late)...

And in entirely unrelated news, NUS went up in the rankings. Give it another century to sink in, and we'll be right up there!


Crossfertilization

While chatting with a fellow research drone during one of those occasional 4O gatherings at the soon-to-be condo-ified King Albert Park's McDonalds (where we saw not a few sorta-familiar faces), I was reminded of how even fairly closely related academic disciplines can drift apart, that it behooves me to explain my experiences in this regard with a parable:

Imagine that we are back in a time when agriculture had just been discovered. Confronted with this exciting new discovery, many impressionable youngsters went about trying to make the most out of it. However, one could hardly be expected to know everything about the craft, and people quickly specialised in one aspect or other of farming. Let us say, then, that I decided to adopt as my calling the creation of better hoes.

To an outsider, one could suppose that a hoe is, well, a hoe, and there is not much to be said about it. An initiate will, however, quickly realise that this is not the case. Even a most cursory dip into the subject will reveal the proposition of a multitude of hoes, and the actual implementation of rather fewer but still a very considerable number; the newcomer will be faced with a bewildering array of them - long, short, thick, thin, double-ended, triple-pronged... with scarcely a clue as to which of them are any good at all.

If he manages to keep from being overwhelmed, the novice will tend to pick a few of them, usually either because his master told him to, or because they were left behind in the training shed. Perhaps he will make a little tweak or two as he goes about his day making furrows. All is good.

At least, up until the day when his master informs him that, if he is ever to progress to be a journeyman, he has to invent his own hoe; at this, not a few trainees will be taken aback, and try to explain that they had been doing just fine with the small bundle of hoes that they had collected in the course of their labour - but no, the master says, rules are rules.

Now, honest apprentices would probably have suspected that the effectiveness of a hoe is strongly dependant on the field at hand - for example, tightly-packed soil would be best tilled with a heavy hoe, while loose mixed dirt might require a flat and broad head. Indeed, some of them might strongly suspect that there is simply no universally good hoe, nor even "better" ones, and that they can even prove it, but these tend to be chased off the land to congregate in dank dwellings, where they expound on the merits of imaginary hoes to each other at length, and call themselves "theorists".

The less quick on the uptake, however, are left with earth that isn't going to overturn itself, and can only shrug and patch together new contraptions, such that their masters will be pleased, so they can finally get their certificates and attract the other kind of hoe. Thus it is that every spring, hoe-makers of every stripe will gather about a campfire, and boast to each other of their revolutionary new hoes.

Actually, the majority of these wonders tend to bear a striking resemblance to items that have been presented at past gatherings, but the accepted convention is to smile politely and congratulate each other on how absolutely fantastic their new hoes are - of course, there are the party-poopers who pull out drawings to argue that a very similar hoe had been exhibited three seasons ago at the meet over the hill; these uncharitable souls are generally tolerated but mostly ignored, in a spirit of mutual good cheer.

Oh, definitely, superior basic designs do come about once in a blue moon, but in between it is mostly extending the handle a bit, or adding a grip or somesuch. The demonstrator will then gravely assert that his addition performs better - usually on a patch of soil transplanted from his own plot of land. In these cases, it is not uncommon for others to find that the new hoe doesn't work quite as well on their own land, sometimes because the introducer simply neglected to include all the small but important tips on how to wield the hoe to maximum effectiveness, thinking them self-apparent.

Indeed, whenever considerable prizes have been offered for the best hoe for a particular plot, the winners invariably tend to be fiendishly complicated montrosities that one doubts would operate half as well in even a slightly changed plot. Under such circumstances, one would understand if budding hoe-makers simply tire of the entire enterprise, and resolve to enter into a proper occupation, encouraged by parents who had known all along that all hoes are the same.

We can imagine, then, a not-very-successful novice hoe-maker, now resolved to leave the trade after despairing of ever producing a suitably improved hoe - all that talk of new metal alloys, of the optimal weight distribution in the haft, of the ideal hand placements... he's tried most of it, only to be informed each time that his new invention is alright... but not quite good enough - and then he turns the corner, and comes upon a group of farmers scrabbling about with their hands.

Of course, lest hoe-makers puff out their chest and be too proud, it is often the case that they are shocked to learn that there actually exists a method by which they can separate out crop seedlings from weed ones, or some other astoundingly simple fact that their neighbours thought they must have known. Thus are fields sown by each other...

Other than that, it seems that Fermi estimation has gotten too mainstream in interviews, to the point that (one of the?) original popularisers, Google, is moving away from them, most likely having formulating new gauges of ability - such as, one hopes, inventing cookie drinking mugs.


Of Cups And Balls

Finally won the national cup in the Hattrick online football manager game again, after eight long years. Championship Manager is one thing, but the buzz from managing it against hundreds of human-controlled sides is another thing altogether (and you get only a few tries a year). Incidentally snagged an entry into an unofficial Polish tournament after that.

So... appropriate book review(s) time:


(Image sources: constablerobinson.com & mediasnobs.com)


Footie has been a recurrent topic here, with Soccernomics, Futebol and Match Fixer among others having found an airing, without going into the many random musings on the subject, so I'll dive right in. How They Stole The Game is one long exposé of... eyebrow-arching stories from FIFA, mostly connected to long-serving former president João Havelange - his wiki article has a summary of the most serious allegations, much expanded in the book, which may however have a slight pro-British slant from its author. On the other hand, Inverting The Pyramid is rather more technical, tracing as it does the evolution of football formations. I will hop between the two, as the fancy takes me.

How first. Only the youngest fans will probably not have heard of Havelange, with Sepp Blatter having succeeded to his office (and more than his fair share of controversy - Yallop alleges juicy chicanery between the two). Well, Havelange was an Olympic-level swimmer (and middling central defender) in his youth, with an obsessive streak towards training, and an eye for detail that even Yallop had to acknowledge; squeaky-clean or not, one doesn't rise to the top by being lazy.

Dubbed "The Sun King" by Yallop for his eventual ostentation, Havelange's tale began proper in 1958, with his election to the presidency of the Federation of Brazilian Sports (CBD). For the past twenty years, he had gone from construction and practising law to becoming director of an inter-state bus company, all the while keeping a workaholic lifestyle and slowly rising in sport administration; in 1952 (at 36 years of age), he even made the national water-polo team.

But, of course, this was Brazil - what was water-polo compared to football? At that time, however, Brazil were rank underachievers, having won exactly zero of the five World Cups held previously. Inverting dates the invention of the modern game to 1863 (when handling the ball was finally outlawed, sundering football and rugby evermore), but football remained a "man's game" despite the passage of some ninety years - there were no substitutes, and certainly no sissy clutching of the face and rolling about; offenders would have been at best ignored, probably laughed at, and perhaps "accidentally" stomped on. Times were hard.


One sometimes hearkens for the old days
[Note: Rivaldo is still an active player at 41!]


That said, training methods were likewise unrefined, this being the era of bacon, eggs and beer, with a slice of orange for pain relief. Enter Havelange and coach Vincente Feola. Here, the two books are not completely clear about which of these men were responsible for Brazil's preparations (How focusing on Havelange, Inverting more on Feola), but what is agreed is that Brazil were well-funded - and not taking chances. The Seleção may have a happy-go-lucky samba image, but the truth was that they were led by the Mourinhos of their time.

Their high-tech innovations extended to a team psychologist, Dr. João Carvãlhes, whose full-time job was assessing the intelligence of bus drivers (Havelange link here?). Garrincha being found to be unfit for that profession was mentioned in Futebol, but we get more details here - apparently, Carvãlhes found that the more instinctive players tended towards abstract art, with Garrincha's best effort at drawing a man being a stick figure. Unimpressed by Pelé either, the good doctor pronounced the future King "infantile", and Garrincha basically retarded. Neither started Brazil's opening game.

Brazil beat Austria 3-0, but then drew 0-0 with England, again without either of the greats. This left them needing to beat the USSR in the final group match to be certain of progress, and Dr. Carvãlhes dutifully prepared more tests. Garrincha, on being asked to draw the first thing he thought of, produced a circle with a few spokes, and pronounced it as the head of a teammate. Dr. Carvãlhes duly recommended that Garrincha be left out. Garrincha's colleagues, however, were well prepared to overlook his artistic deficiencies, and made this known to the coach, who agreed that knowing how to run with a ball might be marginally more important in a football game. Now with Garrincha and Pelé, Brazil crushed the USSR.

To be fair to Dr. Carvãlhes, Garrincha was rather simple-minded. How describes him confiding in the team masseur that he was ashamed at having bought an expensive radio in Sweden for a hundred dollars, because it only spoke Swedish - he was afraid that his friends would laugh at him back in Brazil. The masseur agreed gravely, and took it off his hands for forty bucks, on the condition that no one else would know. In retrospect, Havelange and company's initiative to replace all twenty-five female staff at the team hotel was wise.


Huh, "pass"? What's that?


We rewind a little here. In Inverted, Wilson claims that the dribbling technique of Garrincha and Stanley Matthews is lost to the modern game, because players are simply not afforded that sort of space any more (Inverted came out in 2008, so I assume he has considered Messi and Ronaldo here). Returning to the 1860s, football was dribbling - team tactics such as passing or defending were regarded as "clever" (a pejorative) and not quite done, old chap. This began to change after 1872, when auld enemy Scotland held England to a goalless draw in the very first international game ever by - horror - passing, having started with a timid 2-2-6 formation, against the proper and correct 1-2-7 of the English gentlemen.

It should be noted that long high balls had not yet become part of the English tradition either, but things soon began to change. By 1878, the Welsh Cup final saw Wrexham down to a 2-3-5, and in 1885 the Football Association legalised professionals, to the disgust of sporting gentry everywhere. The 2-3-5, the "pyramid" referred to in the book title, did become the standard, with the English national team converting by 1884, and would remain so until the revision of the old offside law in 1925.

Football had in the meantime spread to Europe and South America thanks to British expats, and the continentals and New Worlders proved more flexible tactically - recall that the first four World Cups were shared, two apiece, by Uruguay and Italy. In any case, footballing authorities got concerned about the lack of goals (in 1925, not 1990), and made the radical proposition that just two, instead of three, defending players were needed to keep an opponent onside.

The response was the W-M formation. Since one could no longer reserve an additional full-back as insurance just in case the forward slipped through, the full-backs were tasked to mark wingers instead of inside-fowards, a responsibility they exchanged with wing-halves, while the inside-forwards themselves dropped deeper. This turned the 2-3-5 into a 3-2-2-3, i.e. W-M, as introduced by Herbert Chapman's Arsenal side that went on to take several Cups and league titles.

In no time, W-M became the new 2-3-5, and Italian coach Vittoro Pozzo put his own touch on the sistema with his W-W, or 2-3-2-3. Next up was the 4-2-4, which Wilson suggests was first introduced by Soviet coach Boris Arkadiev - note that Wikipedia credits Márton Bukovi with both advances, while Inverting clarifies that he created the M-M, i.e. 3-2-3-2, for the great Hungarian team of the 1950s.


The Magical Magyars


It is quite understandable, at this juncture, if the reader were to wonder whether the formation is that significant. Surely, given that football is eleven against eleven with no restriction on movement, it will be overwritten by the flow of the game anyway? Wilson addresses this in the prologue, through the mouth of an Argentine friend: "The formation is the only thing that's important - it's not worth writing about anything else".

To a degree, anyhow. But back to the Brazil of 1958. Honestly, Garrincha probably didn't care much about that crap other than that he should be somewhere in front and to the right, so the more understanding Zagallo had to keep a balance on the other side. The outcome has been said to be a 4-3-3, but generally amounted to Garrincha going where he damn well pleased, and the other fellows making themselves useful. They won two World Cups that way.

Garrincha nearly didn't make the 1962 finals, though. Hosts Chile were not taking kindly to being behind on home soil, and figured - not without good reason - that Garrincha was the main culprit. Their solution was to kick, in a very manly way, the problem out of the game. Finally, a very bruised Garrincha retaliated in kind, and was sent off by the referee.

Then as now, the rules are clear - dismissal means suspension for the next match (i.e. the Final) at least. End of the matter? Not for Havelange. Before the disciplinary hearing, a large suitcase filled with cash magically travelled to Santiago from Rio. The linesman in charge of the incident wound up in a hotel. Garrincha's suspension became a stern warning, and the Little Bird led Brazil to a 3-1 victory over Czechoslovakia.

About this time, with the 4-2-4s and 4-3-3s floating about, the storied catenaccio was born. While now indelibly associated with the Italians, it was the Swiss Karl Rappan who first used it to compensate for his semi-pro players' inferior fitness. His 1938 vintage resembled a compressed 4-3-3, and its final form only came to be under Helenio Herrera's Inter team that dominated the mid-1960s.

Other than the solidity of having a sweeper behind four defenders, Herrera had other aces up his sleeve - after trailing 1-3 after the first leg of their European Cup semifinal against Liverpool, the English side found themselves kept awake all night by rowdy fans outside their Italian hotel. In the actual match, the referee awarded goals from an indirect free-kick and a handball. Inter went through 4-3 on aggregate. Probably no formation would have helped against that one.


You be the judge


England did win the 1966 edition as hosts, which Wilson bemoaned as having ruined the English game by giving false assurance that their style of play was workable. Other than that, not a lot changed. Just before the 1970 World Cup, all thirty referees were instructed to take a hard line. Then, in their second group game, hosts Mexico took, and went on to score from, a free-kick awarded to opponents El Salvador. The referee briefly considered correcting the error, before coming to the conclusion that he had not yet lived a long enough life. The goal stood. In the end, however, it was Brazil who would keep the Jules Rimet trophy by shattering the Italian catenaccio, in what could be described as a 4-2-3-1, as Pelé came into his own.

While this might have been Pelé's playing swansong, at least on the biggest stage, Havelange was only getting started. To his credit, he did find a twenty-thousand dollar bonus - a huge sum at the time - for each player, and there turned out to be plenty more where that came from. Despite to this day insisting that he had no ambition to become president of FIFA, Havelange began to do some quite extraordinary travelling - 86 countries in ten weeks, by his own admission.

One feature of FIFA is that all countries' votes are of equal weight, certainly more than can be said for the United Nations. Havelange did his sums, and realised that while he had South America's ten, he required over fifty more votes to claim the top job. He was largely unknown at the time, but no problem - he had the world-famous Pelé accompany him.

Goodwill was one thing, but translating it into votes quite another. The vote was to take place in Frankfurt, a trip that was simply out of reach for the representatives of many impoverished nations. Unwilling for such base monetary considerations to exclude his foreign friends from participating, Havelange dipped into his own pocket (evidently, bus companies in Brazil then, as in Singapore now, are very profitable), and 37 very happy African delegates made their way to Germany, with some spending money besides.

It has to be said that an ex-business partner and fellow director of said bus company has asserted that Havelange's official sinecure was barely that of a journalist's wage, and that the funds came out of the company's - and the CBD's - account. It was also said that the bus company did a sideline in arms and explosives, dealing with the Bolivian junta, and moreover majority owned by a former Portuguese Minister of Finance with maybe a billion dollars in urgent need of cleaning. Nothing very serious, of course.

His rival for the post was dyed-in-the-wool old-fashioned Englishman Sir Stanley Rous, 27 years Secretary to the Football Association, and President of FIFA for thirteen. Rous admitted to knowing a thing or two about handling committees, through judicious use of indirect filibusters and the like. In other words, he was completely no match for Havelange, who won by 68 votes to 52. Horst Dassler, of Adidas, come on board, beginning a long and fruitful partnership involving Dassler's ISL company. The mechanism was similar to tax farming - FIFA (i.e. Havelange) sold the advertising rights to ISL for a fixed lump sum, and ISL keeps whatever they make from resale; none of the extra goes back to football (note: ISL collapsed in 2001 under huge debt)

Let it be known that hanky-panky is par for the course at the highest levels of football, however; it's Serious Business. How recalls the World Cup Finals decider for 1978, which had hosts Argentina needing to beat Peru (who were by then out) by four goals to take Brazil's place in the Finals (then, there was no knockout; the top eight teams were split into two groups, with the winners qualifying for the Finals)


Come on, guess what happened


Nowadays, final group matches are scheduled to kick off simultaneously to prevent just this sort of thing, but back then it was a free-for-all. On the diplomatic front, Peru received thirty-five thousand tons of grain and some loose tens of millions with admirable alacrity from Argentina; in a completely unrelated event, the Peruvian team lost 0-6, an unlucky member missing an open goal from four yards.

The scheduling issue had not been fixed by the 1982 World Cup, and fate decreed that Germany and Austria would both proceed from their group in the event that Germany won 1-0. Algeria would go through with any other result, but despite the odds seemingly being heavily for them, Algeria quite justifiably feared the worst. Germany won 1-0, and FIFA belatedly implemented simultaneous games. For good measure, the highlight of the presentation ceremony was the police clubbing reporters for taking photos.

On the conventional tactics front, the flavour of the decade was the Dutch total football, with Ajax premiering a 4-3-3 that would turn into a 3-4-3 on a whim. Headed by Johan Cryuff, it was illustrated as a perfect nine-point grid on paper, with a sweeper and goalie right behind. Even Cryuff was not immune to the lure of the green, though in a more acceptable way; according to Inverting, he once complained of knee pain before a match. Knowing his captain only too well, his coach rubbed the afflicted area with a thousand-guilder banknote. Cryuff was cured.

It was about this time that Dynamo Kyiv coach Valeriy Lobanovskyi began applying the scientific method in earnest; an engineer by training, Lobanovskyi set targets for specific actions in a game - short, medium, long passes, shots... even interceptions! He did get two Cup Winners' Cups...

All this paled compared to the creativity off the pitch. Mexico got the 1986 World Cup hosting rights, after Havelange had a man-to-man chat with media baron Emilio Azcarranga. Insurance business for the tournament went, of course, to Havelange's company. On the home front, a man named Giulite Soutinho became President of the Brazilian Football Federation (CBF), and began publishing annual accounts and holding equipment tenders, which Topper and not Adidas won. Out went Soutinho, and in came Ricardo Teixeira, who so very coincidentally happened to be Havelange's son-in-law.

Enough has been said about Maradona's Hand of God, and we move on to Italia 90, one of the most boring editions ever. England were by now long-ball merchants, but Gazza got them to the semis, where they took Germany to penalties, i.e. lost. Pelé made his move, alleging corruption in the CBF, pitting himself against Havelange's son-in-law. Havelange banned Pelé from the draw for the 1994 World Cup. He found that, for once, he had bitten off more than he could chew.


Thanks. And, uh, no need to come back


The knives were sharpened, as elements in FIFA finally saw their chance to oust the Sun King. Some sources have it that a certain Sepp Blatter proposed this to the UEFA Executive Committee, in his capacity as General Secretary of FIFA. That source is not Blatter, who denies it. What can be ascertained is that he did not stand, and Havelange survived unopposed, with not even the appearance of a character reference for a notorious illegal gambling operator having any effect.

In parallel, the backpass was banned and the 4-4-2 would slowly diversify into the "diamond" 4-4-2, 4-5-1, "modern" 4-2-3-1 and all the others that armchair managers love to pick apart, but frankly Havelange is a more intriguing subject. 1995 saw him pally up to newly-installed Nigerian dictator General Abacha, and in an extraordinary exercise of bad timing accepted a honorary chieftainship from Abacha right before the general executed nine human rights campaigners.

But his pull was finally waning. Havelange intended to award the 2002 World Cup to Japan, totally unrelated to the fact that ISL was 49% owned by a Japanese conglomerate, with him on the record as declaring in 1996 that Korea would be awarded it over his dead body. Not without irony, he even proposed the vote be brought forward due to Korea's "aggressive lobbying". However, the heads of the Japanese and Korean delegations, both former Prime Ministers, wound up meeting without his knowledge and agreeing to share the tournament.

It got worse. Back in Brazil, Pelé had been elected Minister of Sport, and was pushing for a bill that would give players the right to negotiate with any club upon expiry of their contract, and also for clubs to exist outside the CBF - which, should be recalled, was under Havelange's son-in-law. That said, the husband of Havelange's daughter was not completely without merit - he was credited with managing to get Ecuador to host their game with Brazil at a stadium closer to sea level for US$100000. Brazil drew 0-0. The Bolivians held out for a round million bucks, and were denied. Bolivia won 2-0.

By 1998, Havelange felt that his time was up, and nominated Blatter as his successor. Blatter's main rival was Johansson, who had Europe's 51 votes, Africa's 44 votes, and surely enough odds and ends to take him over the line. Or so he thought. The result was Blatter 111, Johansson 90. Yallop describes a secret visit by Blatter with the Sheikh of Qatar, and the issuance of US$1 million to the Qatari delegate (a pitifully small sum, in the circumstances), most of which supposedly wound up in envelopes, which in turn wound up with selected other delegates.

Tellingly, Yallop wrote thus: "I do not know what Blatter offered the Sheikh but I would not be terribly surprised if there is a FIFA announcement in the near future that one of the many meaningless tournaments that the Havelange presidency gave birth to has been scheduled to be held in Qatar." This sounds like mean-spirited sniping... until one remembers that How was first published in 1999, and Qatar was awarded the 2022 World Cup in 2010. The chairman of their bid committee? The Sheikh's son. Not that the bid for 2018 was much less entertaining...

Now, the Qatari bid was always going to be problematic, but not due to cultural prejudice. Thing is, it's a desert out there, and average daytime temperatures in the summer - when World Cups are traditionally held - hit up to forty-one degrees, quite apart from Middle Eastern migrant labour practices. Qatar are waving air-conditioned stadia about, but apparently the actual implementation is still very much in the works.

Final note: Havelange was indeed found guilty of accepting bribes by FIFA last year, more than a decade after Blatter tried to get the book banned (and managed to, though in Switzerland only). This led to Havelange, his son-in-law and another executive committee member resigning - while Blatter's actions were described as "clumsy" but not unethical. End of story? I suspect not, but that's why we love football, dirt and glory and all...


Still the World Cup song



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Next: Scattered Investigations


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2 comments

anonymous said...
recommended:
http://www.amazon.com/Brilliant-Orange-Neurotic-Genius-Soccer/dp/1590200551


March 13, 2014 - 09:27 SGT     
gilbert said...
ah yes, Inverting had quite a few references to it.


March 17, 2014 - 19:19 SGT     

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