How Arsenal Killed The Wingback

In the heady summer of 1996 a sporting tragedy of Shakespearean proportions was playing out across England.

Minnows held the nation before an auld enemy was defeated, with the help of a Bradford born goalkeeper. A giant was demolished on route to a nation becoming forever indebted to the safest of safe hands once more; the Spaniards conquered, in a time when they still choked in the heat of battle, in the days before metronomic midfielders held sway.

But sadly, the story played out all too familiarly. A majestic Geordie was inches away from sending a nation into raptures, into the Promised Land, and yet it was a false dawn. The enemy came roaring back, the Germans too organised, too meticulous in their penalty taking for even David Seaman to stop. He needed back up; he didn’t receive it. England’s moment was gone. The wait continued.

A major player in this piece was Gary Neville, playing the now archaic role of wingback, in the days when not just Sunday league managers thought a back three could be the key to success. The role was made with the intention of freeing the fullback, to allow him to get forward down the flanks without endangering the solidity of defence. It wasn’t just Venables that employed the tactic, and it wasn’t just Neville that carried out the orders. England had a whole raft of players that could play there. Andy Hinchcliffe used his left foot to devastating effect when there wasn’t a defender within 5 yards, Graeme Le Saux made it his signature, and with it gave us an idea of what post match interviews could be like if not all English footballers were forced out of education proper at 14 and into a life of “one game at a time” media trained boredom.

Teams across the land began to play 3-5-2, 3-4-1, 3-1-1-1-1-1-1-1, whichever suited their players, so what happened? Today’s Premiership doesn’t have a single team that varies from 4 at the back. There are changes in midfield numbers aplenty, but the classic back 4 remains, as it does across Europe.  Inter Milan teams, Barcelona, Real Madrid, all play with fullbacks and two centre halves. Even the clubs that have built their history upon an additional member to the back 4, Milan with their lock door system, and Munich with the sweeper, stick with a back 4.

And then came Arsene Wenger. Before his arrival the fullback needed to be quick to catch wingers, and possess an ability to punt a ball 50 yards down the flanks. But as Adams et al began to retire English football began to see a revolution at fullback. Out went the centre halves that couldn’t head, in came footballers who could pass, cross, dribble, and most importantly, get back into position when all that was in vain.

With Silvinho, Ashley Cole and Eboue came a transference in power. The fullback, so often ignored, was making use of the time and space afforded to him; creating attacks, overlapping wingers and setting up goals, all before sprinting 50 yards backwards to have a centre half order him back into line.

Before Arsenal there was attacking full backs, Brazil with their ‘laterals’ a prime example, but they were luxuries, only afforded to sides with the brilliance of South Americans, or the naivety  of an Ossie Ardiles as manager. We loved them, but in club football at least they seldom brought anything other than a few moments of joy, before the crushing sensation of high scoring defeat. 

A full back now needs to be quick, comfortable in possession, strong in the tackle and able to cover 8 miles in a match. A look through the Premiership team sheets asks the question, which team doesn’t have a full back that gets forward? Liverpool paid £17 million for theirs, the same amount that they paid for their new first choice central midfielder Aquilani. The full back is now king, and all because Arsenal killed the wingback.