Tactically, you have to look at the scene in order. In May, Bayern celebrate their title. The players lift the trophy one after the other. And Michael Olise, at the back, is playing chess on his phone. HLN, the Belgian daily, reports it, and I read it twice, sitting on the bench at pitch 2, towel on my knees.
I’m a pitch man. When one of Vincent Kompany’s players does something, I don’t judge: I test. Kompany wanted him in Munich, brought him from Crystal Palace in the summer of 2024, and according to HLN he talks about his discipline, his work, his respect. So there’s a method. I’m looking for it.
On Sunday we won at home. Not a title, three points. But in the prefab dressing room I gave an instruction: anyone who wants to can take out their mobile during the celebration. For concentration. The keeper took his out to film. Our number 8 opened a game of chess, lost his knight in two moves and asked for a substitution. I had none left: I’d used all five, two of them to go and pick up the kids.
The club delegate (the volunteer who looks after the match paperwork) didn’t follow the plan. He took out his folder and wrote “phone during celebration” in the warnings box. There is no box for that. He drew one.
Silly question, but in chess, when you win, what do you lift? I checked: nothing. You shake hands and put the pieces away.
My analysis is that the celebration is a low moment. Everyone looks at the trophy, nobody watches the depth. He stays compact, thinking three moves ahead. I run that on Tuesday. When we’ve got eleven, that is.
The result of the experiment is mixed. We celebrated the win by half, the mug of coffee went cold, and the number 8 wants a rematch against the app. I admit Bayern have one more trophy than us to train with. A flat pitch away, mind you.
It’s true, we checked: HLN.
