Tactically, I went back over Mechelen at Kortrijk on Thursday morning, with my mug of coffee and my folder open at the free-kick page.
According to Voetbalkrant, Myron van Brederode was invisible for part of the match. That, I know: at my place we call it “pacing yourself”. Then in the second half he sends Cedric Van Meirvenne through, Ndjeungoue commits the foul, and Kortrijk finish with ten. The free kick hits the wall. And van Brederode picks up the follow-up and equalises.
The wall is my subject. My wall, on a Sunday, has two options: it jumps, or it turns round. Nobody has ever worked on the second ball. I run that on Tuesday. When we’ve got eleven, that is.
Van Brederode, for his part, explains it simply to Voetbalkrant: there was a bit of irritation in it, and a ball like that you take off the slipper without thinking. “One time it goes out of the stadium, another time it goes in.” At my place it goes into the neighbour’s garden, but the principle is the same.
On the red card, he is clear: “The red card was great for us, because before that we couldn’t get out. Then spaces opened up.” Spaces. On our sloping pitch 2, the spaces come by themselves, they run downhill towards the bottom goal.
And for the 1-3, he dribbles through the middle of three Kortrijk players. Yet he says: “That was a nice move, but I’d rather have scored one more time.” There’s a lad who thinks about the team and the scoring charts at the same time. I’ve got the same one at left-back.
Freddy, your left-back has never dribbled past three players. I’m weighing my words.
Mechelen go to Leuven on Saturday with nine points from nine. Me, on Sunday we’re redoing free kicks. With a wall that turns round.
It’s true, we checked: Voetbalkrant.
