The Futbol Knowledge Pyramid

This little ditty was appropriated from a blog I used to write and served as the precursor to an Austin FC roster breakdown, my adopted hometown that just welcomed a brand new Major League Soccer team.  It felt like a natural transition to pull this chunk over and post as an initial offering — plus it’s cute.  We’re all on the same level and this sets the tone.

Before analyzing and sharing formal opinions about futbol, one should know where they rank in the hierarchy of soccer wisdom. Identifying your grade ahead of time is paramount. This allows you to properly inform your audience of exactly who is informing them.

By not being candid with your grade, you give the reader/viewer carte blanche to assume you’re a battle-hardened soccer guru, an utter dipshit, or anything in between. This is where the Futbol Knowledge Pyramid comes into play.

Forget the term “analyst” in the the traditional sense. The Futbol Knowledge Pyramid views anyone with even a passing opinion of the game as an analyst, because we all analyze the beautiful game to some degree. From the silverware hoarding manager dominating Europe to the village idiot drunkenly shouting slurs in the pub, we all share this common thread.

We’re all analysts — but we’re certainly not the same. We fall into different tiers, and the breakdown looks like this:

I’m sure you’ve seen tiny blurbs displayed underneath the talking sports heads saying things like “Two-time MLS Cup Winning Manager” or “Three-Time Premier League Champion”. These titles act as reminders of the analyst’s highest achievements in the world of futbol and help to reinforce why the hell we should be listening to them blabber in the first place.

Here’s a fun question: What would your tagline be?

“Soccer career peaked in high school.”

“Watches the Premier League, like, every weekend.”

“Managed multiple clubs in various editions of FIFA.”

“Small-time soccer podcaster who questions the decisions of professionals”

“3 Seasons Played in the Austin Sports and Social League” for teams named something like Let’s Get Messi, Beercelona or Josh’s Wolff Pack.

“Fantasy football legend.”

“Could have gone pro but got distracted.”

 

What all of your blurbs should read: “Tier 6 Futbol Analyst”

The gap between European glory and bragging to your pals “I told you so” is True Experience — the kind of experience only acquired through vocations where your judgement of the game is directly tied to your professional success (Ex: professional scout, professional player, professional manager, etc.). All of these people fall somewhere between Tiers 1 and 5, depending on their relative success within their profession. For everyone else, there is still a place to call home: Tier 6.  Come on in — the water is sublime.

Don’t worry about Tiers 1-5.  We’re not qualified to properly rank them and Tier 6 is by far the most cozy tier to occupy, as you can rant and rave utter nonsense on a given day and at no time will your livelihood be affected. Be as audacious as you please, because when you question the decisions made by one of the world’s elite professionals no one is around to reprimand you in a meaningful way. The stakes couldn’t be lower — kick back and relax.

Armchair analysts. Know-it-alls. Unsophisticated assholes.

These are just some of the people who occupy the 6th Tier.  These folks would question one of Juergen Klopp’s decisions and subsequently offer up how “they would have done it better.” These kinds of critiques could be related to personnel changes, tactics, transfers — anything having to do with the inner workings of a team that the Tier 6 analyst has only practiced in theory but never in reality.

Don’t twist my shit; there are plenty of fine folks who own real estate in the Tier 6 neighborhood. Not all of them are self-righteous douchebags. The ones who are not insufferable are just the self-aware ones.  The bottom tier is full of comrades, lively, and is by far the most fun.

I am a Tier 6 analyst.