Chapter 16: Actually, I'm a Striker

Santos' attack was once again nullified, this time by Baptista, São Paulo's young defensive midfielder who was their biggest revelation last season. Not only was he energetic with an impressive work rate, but his positioning was impeccable, and he had made rapid progress this season. However, his defensive role garnered less attention.

While both were sudden revelations, Kaka attracted significantly more focus, undoubtedly the center of attention.

A substitute's greatest advantage is abundant energy, so Kaka didn't spare his running, engaging in intense midfield battles with Santos' players. His defensive abilities were yet to be determined, but his attitude was certainly commendable.

Many scouting reports noted, "Defensively committed but technically and positionally naive; potential to become a complete midfielder with experience." As they observed, Kaka's naivety extended beyond just his defending – his orchestrating left much to be desired.

His passing was decent, generally finding teammates accurately and comfortably. However, for a central midfielder, passing was a basic skill; vision, awareness, and controlling the tempo were paramount. Kaka's passing was largely instinctive, finding whoever was in the best position, leaving the next move, let alone the one after, to chance.

In reality, game situations constantly fluctuate, and even midfield masters often pass instinctively, particularly with their first touch, reacting without time for contemplation. Yet, pundits would later analyze how multiple passing options surrounded them, but they invariably chose the optimal one, not only evading defenders but opening up the game, transforming a congested midfield into a fluid orchestra.

Essentially, they were just blindly passing, likely unaware of supporting runners, yet the passes were exquisite and logical...

Such abilities stemmed partly from teamwork and experience accumulation but primarily from two words: natural talent.

Some could study for decades but never write as beautifully as a dog casually urinating. Conversely, others working with steel and concrete could produce calligraphy leaving onlookers in awe. That's talent.

Kaka had a reasonable understanding of his own abilities, preferring to dribble into the final third before deciding whether to pass or shoot. This wasn't particularly unusual in Brazilian football, infamous for tactical naivety, a stark contrast to European teams. South American players generally favored individual dribbling over combination play.

A scene from the film "The Kicking and Screaming" illustrates this: The coach throws a ball forward, instructing the protagonist Santiago to chase it. After several failed attempts, the bewildered coach asks what Santiago has learned. His dimwitted response: "Maybe I should shoot from halfway?" The coach retorts, "No, the ball is always faster than you, so we must pass."

Hence, for coaches, a passing player was a good player, and an excellent passer was a top player. But for the expressive Brazilians, "Why pass when I can dribble and solve it myself?"

Returning to the match, Kaka's second game proved far more challenging than his debut, receiving the kind of defensive attention reserved for key players, hampering São Paulo's midfield fluidity.

"São Paulo find themselves in trouble again. Kaka hasn't been able to play the super-sub role, and when his dribbling is restricted, his poor organization can't help the team unlock defenses. This youngster still has a long way to go before becoming a top midfielder." Cafu's comments echoed the sentiments of many pundits.

Fast, strong at dribbling, decent passer but lacking vision and awareness, suited to counter-attacks but not orchestrating – this was the consensus on Kaka, likely the key difference between his current and former self.

What fans could discern, Álvarez had undoubtedly noticed too.

He summoned his assistant, and after a brief discussion, made an adjustment.

"Lura, warm up." The assistant called out to a young black player on the bench.

Hmm, he shared a name – or nickname, initials? Who knows? – with Santos' manager.

"Huh?" Lura looked bewildered before joyfully rising to warm up.

Lura was a utility player, capable of playing every outfield position except goalkeeper, albeit not particularly well in any. Unless faced with an injury crisis like now, he rarely featured in important matches.

"You're coming on for Luis," Álvarez instructed the warmed-up Lura.

"Luis? Me, as a striker?" Lura wasn't sure.

While he could play anywhere, striker was arguably his weakest position, and objectively, Fabiano had fared decently, certainly more reliably than the recently introduced Bergis.

"You're playing midfield," Álvarez clarified, "Kaka's moving up front."

Lura understood immediately.

It seemed the coach had given up on Kaka's orchestrating abilities, asking him to organize the attack while liberating Kaka further forward.

Ah, the life of a supporting player.

Lura knew his place, waiting by the fourth official for the stoppage.

"São Paulo are making their final substitution, with young Lura coming on. Well, their entire team is youthful, with an average age below twenty-five... He's replacing Luis Fabiano? Has Álvarez lost his mind?" Cafu instinctively assumed it was a like-for-like change.

Many questioned Álvarez's decision.

The newly-arrived Fabiano had progressed rapidly, becoming São Paulo's most potent threat. Few believed Lura could adequately replace him.

Fabiano trudged off displeased, embracing Lura before the substitute approached Kaka. "Kaka, you're taking Luis' role, I'll play midfield."

"Me, as a striker?"

That didn't sound too bad.

(End of Chapter)