The bielsista fluidity

The philosophy of this Barcelona, of course, is rooted in Total Football and the ideas implanted by Rinus Michels and Johan Cruyff in the early 70s. What has become increasingly clear, though, is that their style is Total Football viewed through a bielsista prism. The central tenets of Marcelo Bielsa's style – the hard pressing, the high defensive line – are very much of the Dutch tradition, but in their use of a back three, which admittedly echoes the 3-1-3-3 Cruyff sometimes employed in the early 90s, Barcelona have taken on a bielsista aspect. The use of a central midfielder, Sergio Busquets, to initiate attacks from the back is classic Bielsa, as is the desire to fight battles high up the pitch in opposition territory – as in the use of Dani Alves to negate Marcelo in El Clásico and so cut off the support to Cristiano Ronaldo.

It is not just Barcelona, though. Guardiola famously drove through the night to meet Bielsa in Argentina; another Argentinian, Jorge Sampaoli, a self-confessed disciple of Bielsa, has used his methods to great effect at Universidad de Chile, who won the Chilean Apertura and the Copa Sudamericana and are in the semi-finals of the play-offs for the Clausura. They are astonishingly tactically flexible in terms of shape, but the basic style remains bielsista, something exemplified by the use of a 3-1-4-2 in their Copa Sudamericana semi-final against Liga de Quito, engaging the opposition wing-backs deep in their own half.

Bielsa himself, perhaps too fundamentalist for one of the world's biggest clubs, works away at Athletic Bilbao, where he has tempered his idealism with pragmatism, abandoning the back three for a back four, and playing to the strengths of his target-man centre-forward Fernando Llorente.

High lines are not for everyone

Everything is relative. What is right for one group of players in one set of circumstances will not necessarily be so for another group of players in a different set of circumstances. In the summer, both Chelsea and Internazionale appointed new managers. Both their new managers prefer a high line and a hard press. Both squads they inherited were ill-suited to their style of play, the defences in particular too slow to play high up the pitch and risk balls being played in behind them. In both cases the incongruity of managerial philosophy and squad was clear.

At Internazionale, Gian Piero Gasperini lasted only five games before being dismissed, which made you wonder why on earth they had appointed him. At Chelsea, although André Villas-Boas suffered defeats to Manchester United, Queens Park Rangers, Arsenal and Liverpool (twice), and only just made it through the group stage of the Champions League, there seems for once to be patience, an awareness that the constant churn of managers since José Mourinho's departure has allowed the squad to stagnate, and that it will take time.

Villas-Boas, recognising the limits of his squad, has stepped back, adopting a compromise position with a much deeper line. The result has been an immediate improvement in performance, but if he is given another year or 18 months to oversee the transition, it is safe to assume Chelsea will move towards the fluidity and pressing style of his old Porto side. Whether he is the right man for the job or not is almost irrelevant; having appointed somebody of such stylistic principles, to do anything other than give him time to mould the squad would be self-defeating. Frankly, it defies belief that a club would not consider how suited its squad is to the approach of the new manager, but that apparently is what Inter did.

The false nine and other falsehoods

At the end of last year, the false nine was still something unusual, a quasi-mystical novelty. Now it is mainstream, so mainstream, in fact, that Lionel Messi, the archetypal false nine, has at times reverted to being an orthodox No10, playing behind a front man. Certainly in El Clásico, Alexis Sánchez played as the main striker, buzzing in from the right flank again and again; he had an element of falseness in that he did not stand, as an orthodox centre-forward would, up against the opposing central defenders, but whereas Messi's drift would be deep, into midfield, his was to the flank.

In that regard he fits the growing trend of forwards who start wide. Cristiano Ronaldo, perhaps, has been the greatest exponent, but Edinson Cavani and Ezequiel Lavezzi often come from wide in Napoli's 3-4-3, while Universidad de Chile's Eduardo Vargas, who will join Napoli in January, was the top scorer in the Sudamericana coming from a wide-right position.

This year has also seen the advent of the term "false 10", a coinage that feels a little clumsy. There is as yet, though, no other term for a player who operates as Wayne Rooney did towards the end of last season, playing off a front man as an orthodox 10 would but coming deep to help win possession. When United had Michael Carrick and Ryan Giggs in the middle of midfield, in fact, Rooney was the main ball-winner. The logic, in a sense, is the same as Barcelona's use of Busquets as a centre-back in that it means the battle for possession takes place in front of the initiator of attacks, who should in theory then have more time when the ball is won.

Markarián and the platense austerity

The Uruguayan Sergio Markarián did not set out to be a football coach. When he decided, aged 18, that he would not make it as a player, he got a job with a fuel distribution company, rising to be general manager. When he was 30, though, he watched Holland humiliate Uruguay at the 1974 World Cup, and decided he had to become a coach so his country would never again suffer in the same way. He started out at Bella Vista, where he coached Oscar Wáshington Tabárez, who is two years his junior. Although Markarián's career then led him to Paraguay and Peru, if he had any influence at all on Tabárez he can take some credit for the resurrection of Uruguay's football.

Exactly what influence Markarián had on Tabárez is hard to quantify, but there is a clear similarity of attitude. Both produce tough, resolute teams, sides paced with "garra", the mythical quality of streetwise courage and resolve that underpins Uruguayan football. At the Copa América, Markarián's Peru operated in a lop-sided 4-4-1-1, with Juan Vargas playing off Paolo Guerrero and to the left; Uruguay were as protean as ever, shifting from four at the back to three at the back as required (the return of three at the back as a proactive formation in the past year has been a corollary of the influence of both Bielsa and Markarián). Peru conceded two goals in four games before going down to Uruguay in the semi-final; Uruguay conceded only three in six as they won the tournament.

Perhaps it is premature to talk about a reaction against the fluid attacking football played by the likes of Barça and Universidad, but there is a spirit of austerity and attrition about platense football at the moment. Boca Juniors, reinvigorated under Julio César Falcioni, won the Argentinian Apertura conceding a record low of six goals in 19 matches. Racing, who came second, conceded only eight.