Iceland, a nation of 300,00 with a film director in goal and a dentist in the dug-out – it’s
a World Cup cliché dream of brave underdogs punching above their weight.
While Iceland’s achievement of qualifying as the smallest ever nation to do so in terms
of population is remarkable, to focus on that rather than the quality of their football
is both a disservice and lazy commentary.
Iceland line up in a 4-4-1-1, with Gylfi Sigurdsson the link man to striker Alfred Finnbogason.
In a defensive posture, which is how Iceland spend a lot of their games, this becomes more
of a 4-4-2, with both the two front players pressing.
One will take the man, and the other will look to press the inside passing channel.
This is because Iceland, like other good 4-4-2 defence-orientated sides, want the opposition
to go wide most of the time.
By closing a central passing lane, especially against sides who like to build play from
the back by retaining possession, Iceland can use the touchline as an additional defender,
and double up by pushing the full back high, moving a central midfielder over, or having
one of the top two work hard to get back.
If the opposition do manage to break this by-line press, Iceland do not then rush in
to try to rectify the situation, though.
If the opposition find space out wide, Iceland tuck in and try to cut off passing options,
rather than recklessly close the man and get caught out of position.
The full back stays back and a wide midfield or striker angles their body to block inward
passes, shepherding the opposition player into a cul-de-sac, rather than rushing at
them and risking being bypassed.
It’s methodical and intelligent defensive positioning, pressing when it’s situationally
sensible and not otherwise.
Should the opposition attack centrally, the two central players will drop off and hassle,
without, again, pressing to frantically.
One of the two central midfielders does push up, but generally only if the opposition have
their back to the Iceland goal.
The aim is to present a unified mid-level block with no dog-legs, rather than needlessly
pressing the man and leaving a gap.
Iceland try to encourage teams to need to move the ball wide, rather than give them
the chance to play through.
Should the mid-level block be penetrated, though, Iceland’s centre backs to push up
to snap into tackles.
This forces the opposition strikers to play the ball back and, given the size and positional
ability of the Iceland defenders, is not as risky as you might think.
One or both midfielders will also drop off to try to win the second ball, should the
centre back’s tackle force the ball loose into open play.
Should the opposition break on the counter-attack, Iceland do rush back to cover, but their efforts
are to channel the opposition into the central column of the pitch.
The wide midfielders run in-field, while the forwards and centre midfielders look to recover
their position.
This squeezes the opposition towards the centre backs and seeks to prevent the ball being
released into space on the overlap.
It’s the one time that Iceland actively funnel play centrally rather than out-wide,
looking to congest the middle and prevent quick balls out wide while their team is on
the back foot.
Iceland’s defensive play is the product of intelligent coaching, hard work, and constant
communication to ensure that on pitch, every player know what they should be doing and
where.
Their attack shows some intricacy as well: while they tend to look long for Finbogason,
with Sigurdsson and the wide players pushing up in support, they can play some good flowing
football.
But it’s in defence that Iceland really impress.
To say that they are ‘over-achieving’ might be true in the reductive terms of population,
but Iceland are a footballing team to be reckoned with, not just a heart-warming story or
a series of clichés.