Csaba passes tactical test
Sep 03, 2006
PRE-MATCH, Jackson Mayanja was heralded as the tactical masterstroke that a desperate Laszlo Csaba would conjure to paper over the cracks in Cranes’ goal-shy attacking department.
By Joseph Opio
PRE-MATCH, Jackson Mayanja was heralded as the tactical masterstroke that a desperate Laszlo Csaba would conjure to paper over the cracks in Cranes’ goal-shy attacking department.
In the end, the much-anticipated return of the ageing messiah didn’t materialise.
Yet if Mayanja’s no-show was anticlimactic, that disappointment was alleviated by Csaba’s rivetting tactical masterpiece that ensured Uganda stormed out of the starting blocks and into the distance, to luxuriate above Nigeria by going top of Group three.
How the German improvised his shoe-string resources by employing his defence as a launch-pad for attack is the stuff of tactical folklore.
No Ugandan marshals the backline with more refinement than Ibra Sekagya. No player in the current crop supersedes the ice-cool Cranes skipper in executing the lost arts of a defensive libero.
Csaba hails from a nation that supplied the world’s pre-eminent libero and his courageous attempt at cloning Sekagya into Uganda’s Franz Beckenbauer reaped copious dividends.
Merging surgical game-reading with laser-like ball distribution, Sekagya was the good cop in a defensive partnership with the snarling, take-no-prisoners approach favoured by Timothy Batabaire.
Csaba’s decision to prefer Andy Mwesigwa to the adventurous Simeon Masaba at right-back seemed negative to all but the most judicious observer.
Mwesigwa, an archetypal central defender, was never going to sprout wings and engineer daring smash-and-grab raids deep into enemy territory.
But he provided a defensive counterbalance to the offense-minded Nestroy Kizito; meaning that Uganda reverted to a three-man defence every time Kizito marauded down the left flank.
Csaba has preached an attack-conscious philosophy since his arrival. But deprived of the offensive architect that’s Hakim Magumba, the German selected a midfield deficient on artistic inspiration with Johnson Bagoole and Noah ‘Babadi’ Kasule.
Both players are more destroyers than creators; and Csaba rectified his omission by withdrawing Bagoole for Dan Wagaluka long before recess .
It was an audacious decision, bearing in mind that Uganda was cruising on a two-goal magic carpet at that point.
It was a move that betrayed Csaba’s readiness to shrug off the natural instinct to jealously safeguard a slender lead, in search of more goals.
The German again showcased that strain of attacking DNA later by extracting Babadi for Masaba, switching Mwesigwa to centre-half and redeploying Sekagya as anchor.
That reshuffle utilised Sekagya’s attack-breaking and ball-distribution skills while allowing Masaba to venture forward with typical industry.
Put bluntly, Csaba passed his first tactical test in most spectacular fashion.
As a time-honoured footballing truism asserts, a coach can only be as good as his last result.
Mercifully for Csaba, his last result was very good.
Ends
PRE-MATCH, Jackson Mayanja was heralded as the tactical masterstroke that a desperate Laszlo Csaba would conjure to paper over the cracks in Cranes’ goal-shy attacking department.
In the end, the much-anticipated return of the ageing messiah didn’t materialise.
Yet if Mayanja’s no-show was anticlimactic, that disappointment was alleviated by Csaba’s rivetting tactical masterpiece that ensured Uganda stormed out of the starting blocks and into the distance, to luxuriate above Nigeria by going top of Group three.
How the German improvised his shoe-string resources by employing his defence as a launch-pad for attack is the stuff of tactical folklore.
No Ugandan marshals the backline with more refinement than Ibra Sekagya. No player in the current crop supersedes the ice-cool Cranes skipper in executing the lost arts of a defensive libero.
Csaba hails from a nation that supplied the world’s pre-eminent libero and his courageous attempt at cloning Sekagya into Uganda’s Franz Beckenbauer reaped copious dividends.
Merging surgical game-reading with laser-like ball distribution, Sekagya was the good cop in a defensive partnership with the snarling, take-no-prisoners approach favoured by Timothy Batabaire.
Csaba’s decision to prefer Andy Mwesigwa to the adventurous Simeon Masaba at right-back seemed negative to all but the most judicious observer.
Mwesigwa, an archetypal central defender, was never going to sprout wings and engineer daring smash-and-grab raids deep into enemy territory.
But he provided a defensive counterbalance to the offense-minded Nestroy Kizito; meaning that Uganda reverted to a three-man defence every time Kizito marauded down the left flank.
Csaba has preached an attack-conscious philosophy since his arrival. But deprived of the offensive architect that’s Hakim Magumba, the German selected a midfield deficient on artistic inspiration with Johnson Bagoole and Noah ‘Babadi’ Kasule.
Both players are more destroyers than creators; and Csaba rectified his omission by withdrawing Bagoole for Dan Wagaluka long before recess .
It was an audacious decision, bearing in mind that Uganda was cruising on a two-goal magic carpet at that point.
It was a move that betrayed Csaba’s readiness to shrug off the natural instinct to jealously safeguard a slender lead, in search of more goals.
The German again showcased that strain of attacking DNA later by extracting Babadi for Masaba, switching Mwesigwa to centre-half and redeploying Sekagya as anchor.
That reshuffle utilised Sekagya’s attack-breaking and ball-distribution skills while allowing Masaba to venture forward with typical industry.
Put bluntly, Csaba passed his first tactical test in most spectacular fashion.
As a time-honoured footballing truism asserts, a coach can only be as good as his last result.
Mercifully for Csaba, his last result was very good.
Ends