I’m assuming the squad will look like this:
3 Goalkeepers
5 Centrebacks (with 2 who can cover FB and 1 who can cover DM)
2 Fullbacks
1 Utility Player (Full Back, DM & Winger)
3 Central/Defensive Midfielders
6 Attack Mids / Wingers
4 CFs
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[Albion] Number 10s
- Thread starter Nameless
- Start date
I’m assuming the squad will look like this:
3 Goalkeepers
5 Centrebacks (with 2 who can cover FB and 1 who can cover DM)
2 Fullbacks
1 Utility Player (Full Back, DM & Winger)
3 Central/Defensive Midfielders
6 Attack Mids / Wingers
4 CFs
Codner wore 10. In fact didn’t our midfielders always wear 4 & 10, while our strikers wore 8 & 9? I’m sure that’s how I remember it from the late 70s on...
https://images.app.goo.gl/oUNFCht6DscarznWA
That’s Ian Mellor wearing 9 and Wardy wore 8.
Machiavelli
Well-known member
Number 9 is a CF in the Murray mould. Number 10 is the creative force, with Dalglish being perhaps the best example. This is resting on a 442 formation though.
Jonathan Wilson is great on formations, and you'll find the history of how different formations have emerged and evolved in his great book Inverting the Pyramid. I'm really surprised that you haven't heard this.
schmunk
"Members"
I cannot hear "Number 9" without thinking of this.
Don't let your kids watch the Wiggles, folks, they're seriously catchy...
Don't let your kids watch the Wiggles, folks, they're seriously catchy...
Indeed.
Goalie
Left back, Right back
Left mid, centre half, right mid
Left wing, inside left (number 10), centre forward, inside right, right wing (Spence).
That's how we lined up for 6th Hove and St Nicholas Portslade in the 60s.
WilburySeagull
New member
Good lord everyone seems to be too young to recall the days when the numbers referred to positions! In those days the 10 was an "inside left" just as 8 was "inside right" and both were providers 1st but also scorers
In my mind now 10 is a player who sits just behind the main striker. I had thought that Ali J would fit this role but looks like Macalister now.
In my mind now 10 is a player who sits just behind the main striker. I had thought that Ali J would fit this role but looks like Macalister now.
Left Half, Right Half - not Left Mid, Right Mid
northstandsteve
Well-known member
I started at inside left in 1968 and gradually made my way backwards !!!
we're keeping Solly March then.
Sheebo
Well-known member
- Jul 13, 2003
- 29,297
I’ve heard it - it was **** then and it’s **** now I have an explanation..! It’s a striker then. There’s an attacking midfielder or a striker. No other positions available unless you want to analyse how a striker plays. They’re still a striker
I’m not having this number 9 or number 10 bollocks sorry 
Machiavelli
Well-known member
I’ve heard it - it was **** then and it’s **** now I have an explanation..! It’s a striker then. There’s an attacking midfielder or a striker. No other positions available unless you want to analyse how a striker plays. They’re still a striker
Well, I think Dalglish and Murray are entirely different types of players, and think the distinction is informative, but each to their own.
Ripped from behind Paywall. Michael Cox with almost everything there is to know about No10.
It’s Arsenal against West Ham at Highbury in 1995-96 and the visiting side’s manager, Harry Redknapp, has a big problem — his star forward has just stormed out. Paulo Futre, recently signed from AC Milan, is refusing to play unless he’s handed his favoured shirt number.
“Futre 10, not 16!” he shouted at Redknapp. “Eusebio 10! Maradona 10! Pele 10! Futre 10! Not ****ing 16!” Redknapp explained that John Moncur already had the No 10 shirt and Futre would have to either wear 16, or go home. So he went home. And he only returned once he had convinced Moncur to swap shirts, sealing the deal by promising Moncur a fortnight’s stay at his villa on the Algarve.
No 10 is, put simply, the most revered shirt number in football, and carries an aura like no other. It’s the number of a team’s most creative, talented player. It was the favoured shirt of Ferenc Puskas, Eusebio, Pele, Diego Maradona, Michel Platini, Ronaldinho and Lionel Messi.
It’s a number that has prompted books to be written solely about its mystique, a number which has prompted laments about its declining importance in the modern game. If you turn up at a match and don’t know any of the players, it’s a decent bet that the No 10 for either side will be worth keeping an eye on.
None of this would have been considered vaguely plausible back in the inter-war years when shirt numbering was introduced — it was simply a way for referees and spectators to identify players. Yet somehow, nearly a century on, the No 10 carries enormous importance on every continent.
When considering the No 10, though, you instinctively think of South America and, in particular, of Argentina. Nowhere else is the No 10 quite so fetishised and storied, which is the result of various factors.
First, there was a determination for Argentina to create its “own” style of football, away from the European approach, which was considered heavily-systemised and therefore, Argentine sides often accommodated a player allowed freedom from the overall structure, given license to do his own thing. There was the legend of the “pibe”, the scruffy kids from poor backgrounds, who used their cunning from the streets to beat the system. And there was Argentina’s love of mythology, to create a story and a legend to follow. The image of their perfect No 10 had been created long before Diego Maradona came along.
Maradona was everything Argentina No 10s were supposed to be: small, left-footed, from a poor background, capable of coping with aggression — and sometimes giving it back — and a mazy dribbler. Maradona epitomised all that and, for all the extraordinary worship he received throughout his playing career, understood that the point of him being freed from the system was not to play for himself but to play for the team.
After his departure from the national team, Argentines spent years desperately hoping to find “The New Maradona”. Juan Roman Riquelme was the closest they found: a brilliantly inventive No 10 who almost felt more Argentine than Maradona or Messi by virtue of sometimes struggling to impose himself in Europe. His more languid, considered game — and his consistent use of “the pause” when holding onto the ball and considering options — was distinctly Argentine.
Messi’s quickness, efficiency and extraordinary goalscoring record means he’s arguably too “European” to be considered a pure Argentine No 10, although it’s worth considering that in his formative days in Barcelona’s youth system, Messi was considered distinctly Argentine. When asked for his preferred position, he responded with “enganche”, the Argentine word for the No 10 translating as “hook”, which no-one at La Masia understood. He was also chided for his constant dribbling, when other Barca youth products were instructed to “offer, receive, pass” rather than taking too many touches.
Messi played a variety of roles in Barcelona’s youth system but for Argentina’s youth teams, was always fielded as a No 10, with that number on his back. He became the world’s greatest under Pep Guardiola after switching to a false 9 position in what was considered a variation upon Barca’s usual 4-3-3, although an Argentine might reasonably have viewed that system as a classic South American 4-3-1-2, with Messi as the enganche behind two (wider than usual) forwards. Today, it’s become common to see Barcelona fielding Messi in something of a classic No 10 role, while his declining stamina and lack of pressing ability means he plays the position in a somewhat more reserved, old-fashioned Argentine manner.
Over the border in Brazil, the No 10 shirt also carries huge importance. Its cult was started by Pele, who first wore the shirt at World Cup 1958 and continued wearing it up until World Cup 1970. Pele was simply a brilliant all-round attacker: a prolific goalscorer but also much more than that. He would scheme between the lines and also dropped back to collect the ball in deeper positions, essentially connecting midfield and attack in a role that Brazilians often call the “ponta de lança” — the point of the lance (although this usage is somewhat different from the way English football observers might use the word “spearhead”, a similar term).
It was arguably Zico, though, who was the more typical Brazilian No 10 — less powerful and more purely technical. Recent iterations have varied in style. Rivaldo fitted the bill: slender, left-footed but a little too individualistic. Ronaldinho was arguably more effective from the left, where his speed and trickery worked better. Kaka was a peculiar No 10, depending upon acceleration and power, almost a centre-forward in style. Neymar probably deserves more credit for his performances as Brazil’s No 10 — he’s one goal away from passing Ronaldo in Brazil’s all-time goalscoring standings, which would leave him behind only Pele.
In Neymar’s absence, the shirt was worn by Milan midfielder Lucas Paqueta in November but he was substituted at half-time in a 1-0 defeat to Argentina, which prompted a furious response from one of his predecessors in that shirt: Rivaldo.
“I watched the match between Brazil v Argentina and was very sad to see what happened with the No 10 shirt,” he wrote on Instagram. “They gave the shirt to Paqueta against Argentina. A shirt that is respected worldwide. This shirt is not meant to be on the bench, let alone go off at half-time, because it is the shirt the world knows and respects because it was worn and honoured by Pele, Rivelino, Zico, Rivaldo, Kaka, Ronaldinho and Neymar. The player is not to blame but the coaching staff is because they know the weight of this shirt.”
In European terms, Italy springs to mind as a classic No 10 country. Traditionally, Italian sides would deploy a “trequartista” — essentially three-quarter-man, as in three-quarters of the way up the pitch — behind two outright forwards. Compared to the South American model, the Italian No 10 tended to have more grace, and play in a calmer manner. Gianni Rivera, who starred for Milan throughout the 1960s and 1970s, and most famously for Italy at World Cup 1970, was a classic example of a refined, almost statesmanlike No 10 famed for assists rather than his goals. Giancarlo Antognoni, the greatest player in Fiorentina’s history, was a similar example.
In the modern era, Roberto Baggio was the world’s greatest No 10 during the early 1990s, starring on home soil at World Cup 1990 before being the fall guy four years later when his missed penalty confirmed Italy’s defeat in the final to Brazil. Baggio’s role in Arrigo Sacchi’s Italy had caused much debate amongst the public — Sacchi fielded him as a second striker whereas the public, and Baggio himself, wanted him in the classic Italian trequartista role, behind two forwards. Sacchi believed a 4-3-1-2 made it difficult for the side to remain compact, however, and he was also against the idea of building the side around one individual.
Alessandro Del Piero briefly made the Italy No 10 shirt his own, although he was more of an inside-left, a second striker, rather than a genuine No 10. Later, Francesco Totti took on the mantle of the shirt. His most memorable season for Roma was 2000-01, when he played behind Gabriel Batistuta and Vincenzo Montella in Fabio Capello’s 3-4-1-2, although Totti proved very versatile, shining as a second striker, as a false 9 or from the left of a 4-3-3. Italy haven’t truly found a replacement for Totti since he retired in the aftermath of World Cup 2006 success. When talented Roma youngster Nicolo Zaniolo was in good form last season and asked if he would like to wear Totti’s old No 10 shirt, the answer was immediate. “I wouldn’t even think about it. I’d like to keep my own number, out of respect for the captain (Totti). I wouldn’t even try to say yes.”
Elsewhere in Europe, you can find a South American-esque reverence towards the No 10 in the Balkans. In particular, Croatia manages to produce more than its fair share of No 10s, with 1990s legends like Robert Prosinecki and Zvonimir Bobab inspiring their modern equivalents, Luka Modric and Ivan Rakitic. They’ve both adjusted to deeper positions in Spain, although in their formative years, were certainly more typical No 10s, playing at the top of midfield.
France’s relationship with the No 10 is essentially based around two men. No-one has ever enjoyed a better European Championship than Michel Platini in 1984, when he scored in all five matches, including two hat-tricks, for a ludicrous final tally of nine goals. It was unusual for a No 10 to be such a prolific goalscorer, however, and when France finally found a decent replacement in the shape of Zinedine Zidane, he shied away from the comparison because, in his words, he was neither a goalscorer nor a true leader.
Zidane interpreted the No 10 position very differently to Platini. If the most typical No 10s are somewhere between a midfielder and a forward, it’s unquestionable that Zidane was very much the former. He often operated deeper than you would expect, and though he’s famed for scoring goals in finals — two headers from corners at World Cup 1998 and his astonishing left-footed volley in the Champions League final four years later — he didn’t often pop up in the box. He also wasn’t regularly seen in the shirt at club level, wearing No 21 for Juventus and No 5 with Real Madrid, because of the presence of Del Piero and Luis Figo respectively. France have relatively rarely depended upon a No 10 since then and now the shirt is worn by Kylian Mbappe, a speedy forward.
Other major European countries are less obsessed with the shirt. Spanish football prides itself in developing deeper midfielders who generally prefer 4, 6 and 8. Dutch football has often been based around 4-3-3, which doesn’t have a place for a traditional No 10. When Dennis Bergkamp played as as withdrawn forward at Ajax, Dutch journalists felt the need to invent a new term for his position: “schaduwspits”, meaning shadow striker. Bergkamp was actually Ajax’s main goalscorer and when Dutch sides play with a traditional No 10, the system is often about the No 9 servicing the No 10 through movement, rather than the No 10 servicing the No 9 with through balls.
In recent times, Ajax can also take plenty of credit for the development of Christian Eriksen, the best Danish No 10 since the elusive, selfless Michael Laudrup. His Barcelona boss Johan Cruyff, intriguingly, once said that the only thing stopping Laudrup from being the world’s best player was that he came from a rich country — in other words, implying he lacked the scrapping, fighting spirit of others. The likes of Hristo Stiochkov and Gheorghe Hagi, two other natural No 10s at Cruyff’s Barca, were the type of player he was referencing, and took Bulgaria and Romania respectively to new heights in the mid-1990s.
German football has occasionally produced talented No 10s — Mesut Ozil is the most recent example, although he’s often credited his Turkish roots for the creative side of his game. German football’s relationship with the No 10 shirt was actually most interesting when they were still obsessed with converting attacking midfielders into sweepers, a practice which essentially died out at the turn of the century. Beforehand, though, it wasn’t entirely unusual to witness a No 10 playing at the back. When Bayern defeated Kaiserslautern 2-0 in the 1998-99 Champions League, for example, both sides fielded a No 10 as a sweeper — Lothar Matthaus and Ciriaco Sforza respectively. Traditional centre-backs shouldn’t be allowed near No 10 — see William Gallas at Arsenal — but playmakers converted into sweepers is a different situation altogether.
Portuguese football has tended to produce star wingers like Luis Figo and Cristiano Ronaldo (and, it must be said, the aforementioned Futre, who wasn’t really a true No 10) rather than central playmakers, although the absolutely magnificent Rui Costa was an obvious exception. More than most, he absolutely epitomised the No 10 role, running matches with elegance and purpose, dribbling fluidly and playing killer through passes, most notably for Gabriel Batistuta during their extended period together for Fiorentina. His successor at international level was Deco, a Brazilian, and in recent years, Portugal have tended to produce more complete, versatile midfielders. Renato Sanches, Bernardo Silva and now Bruno Fernandes have all been hyped as Portugal’s next great attacking midfielder, although none fit the No 10 shirt quite as perfectly as Rui Costa.
English football’s relationship with the No 10 shirt is curious. Traditionally, English sides played 4-4-2, or sometimes 3-5-2, which meant no obvious position for the classic No 10. Teddy Sheringham’s tendency to drop into deeper zones briefly ensured the withdrawn striker position became known as “the Teddy Sheringham role”, a self-titled status perhaps only Claude Makelele has also reached. But Sheringham was certainly a second striker rather than a true No 10, while England’s recent world-class attacking midfielders, the likes of Paul Gascoigne, Frank Lampard and Steven Gerrard, have been No 8s rather than No 10s.
England haven’t always got their shirt numbers right upfront. Gary Lineker and Michael Owen were both out-and-out strikers who wore No 10, while Bobby Charlton was an attacking midfielder who wore No 9. Wayne Rooney was a No 9 when very much a second striker, and then a No 10 when his best position was less clear. Harry Kane wears No 10 for club but No 9 for England, while the No 10 shirt was worn by speedy attacker Raheem Sterling at World Cup 2018, and then by midfielder Harry Winks in their most recent competitive match.
England are now unique as the only European nation who sticks to 1-11 numbering throughout qualification matches, rather than assigning permanent squad numbers, and therefore, when there’s a change in system, it often results in one — or more — players looking a little uncomfortable in their new shirt.
Yet English players are nevertheless drawn to the number. The most recent Premier League match — and perhaps the final Premier League match for some time — was Leicester City v Aston Villa, which was cast as a showdown for an England place between James Maddison and Jack Grealish. Both wore the No 10 shirt, and therefore the contest felt like a match from Argentina — our playmaker against your playmaker.
Both are modern, versatile attacking midfielders, more regularly fielded in the position of a No 8 or from the left of midfield, and there’s an argument that the No 10 has become about status rather than role. The last World Cup saw midfielders like Granit Xhaka, John Obi Mikel and Grzegorz Krychowiak wearing No 10, a recognition of their seniority rather than their role.
But the glamour and the romance of the No 10 shirt is undeniable, and while classic No 10s may have faded from the modern game, the increased prominence of false 9s, wide players who can drift inside and deep-lying playmakers means that, rather than there being no players who can reasonably wear No 10, there are actually more than ever before.
It’s Arsenal against West Ham at Highbury in 1995-96 and the visiting side’s manager, Harry Redknapp, has a big problem — his star forward has just stormed out. Paulo Futre, recently signed from AC Milan, is refusing to play unless he’s handed his favoured shirt number.
“Futre 10, not 16!” he shouted at Redknapp. “Eusebio 10! Maradona 10! Pele 10! Futre 10! Not ****ing 16!” Redknapp explained that John Moncur already had the No 10 shirt and Futre would have to either wear 16, or go home. So he went home. And he only returned once he had convinced Moncur to swap shirts, sealing the deal by promising Moncur a fortnight’s stay at his villa on the Algarve.
No 10 is, put simply, the most revered shirt number in football, and carries an aura like no other. It’s the number of a team’s most creative, talented player. It was the favoured shirt of Ferenc Puskas, Eusebio, Pele, Diego Maradona, Michel Platini, Ronaldinho and Lionel Messi.
It’s a number that has prompted books to be written solely about its mystique, a number which has prompted laments about its declining importance in the modern game. If you turn up at a match and don’t know any of the players, it’s a decent bet that the No 10 for either side will be worth keeping an eye on.
None of this would have been considered vaguely plausible back in the inter-war years when shirt numbering was introduced — it was simply a way for referees and spectators to identify players. Yet somehow, nearly a century on, the No 10 carries enormous importance on every continent.
When considering the No 10, though, you instinctively think of South America and, in particular, of Argentina. Nowhere else is the No 10 quite so fetishised and storied, which is the result of various factors.
First, there was a determination for Argentina to create its “own” style of football, away from the European approach, which was considered heavily-systemised and therefore, Argentine sides often accommodated a player allowed freedom from the overall structure, given license to do his own thing. There was the legend of the “pibe”, the scruffy kids from poor backgrounds, who used their cunning from the streets to beat the system. And there was Argentina’s love of mythology, to create a story and a legend to follow. The image of their perfect No 10 had been created long before Diego Maradona came along.
Maradona was everything Argentina No 10s were supposed to be: small, left-footed, from a poor background, capable of coping with aggression — and sometimes giving it back — and a mazy dribbler. Maradona epitomised all that and, for all the extraordinary worship he received throughout his playing career, understood that the point of him being freed from the system was not to play for himself but to play for the team.
After his departure from the national team, Argentines spent years desperately hoping to find “The New Maradona”. Juan Roman Riquelme was the closest they found: a brilliantly inventive No 10 who almost felt more Argentine than Maradona or Messi by virtue of sometimes struggling to impose himself in Europe. His more languid, considered game — and his consistent use of “the pause” when holding onto the ball and considering options — was distinctly Argentine.
Messi’s quickness, efficiency and extraordinary goalscoring record means he’s arguably too “European” to be considered a pure Argentine No 10, although it’s worth considering that in his formative days in Barcelona’s youth system, Messi was considered distinctly Argentine. When asked for his preferred position, he responded with “enganche”, the Argentine word for the No 10 translating as “hook”, which no-one at La Masia understood. He was also chided for his constant dribbling, when other Barca youth products were instructed to “offer, receive, pass” rather than taking too many touches.
Messi played a variety of roles in Barcelona’s youth system but for Argentina’s youth teams, was always fielded as a No 10, with that number on his back. He became the world’s greatest under Pep Guardiola after switching to a false 9 position in what was considered a variation upon Barca’s usual 4-3-3, although an Argentine might reasonably have viewed that system as a classic South American 4-3-1-2, with Messi as the enganche behind two (wider than usual) forwards. Today, it’s become common to see Barcelona fielding Messi in something of a classic No 10 role, while his declining stamina and lack of pressing ability means he plays the position in a somewhat more reserved, old-fashioned Argentine manner.
Over the border in Brazil, the No 10 shirt also carries huge importance. Its cult was started by Pele, who first wore the shirt at World Cup 1958 and continued wearing it up until World Cup 1970. Pele was simply a brilliant all-round attacker: a prolific goalscorer but also much more than that. He would scheme between the lines and also dropped back to collect the ball in deeper positions, essentially connecting midfield and attack in a role that Brazilians often call the “ponta de lança” — the point of the lance (although this usage is somewhat different from the way English football observers might use the word “spearhead”, a similar term).
It was arguably Zico, though, who was the more typical Brazilian No 10 — less powerful and more purely technical. Recent iterations have varied in style. Rivaldo fitted the bill: slender, left-footed but a little too individualistic. Ronaldinho was arguably more effective from the left, where his speed and trickery worked better. Kaka was a peculiar No 10, depending upon acceleration and power, almost a centre-forward in style. Neymar probably deserves more credit for his performances as Brazil’s No 10 — he’s one goal away from passing Ronaldo in Brazil’s all-time goalscoring standings, which would leave him behind only Pele.
In Neymar’s absence, the shirt was worn by Milan midfielder Lucas Paqueta in November but he was substituted at half-time in a 1-0 defeat to Argentina, which prompted a furious response from one of his predecessors in that shirt: Rivaldo.
“I watched the match between Brazil v Argentina and was very sad to see what happened with the No 10 shirt,” he wrote on Instagram. “They gave the shirt to Paqueta against Argentina. A shirt that is respected worldwide. This shirt is not meant to be on the bench, let alone go off at half-time, because it is the shirt the world knows and respects because it was worn and honoured by Pele, Rivelino, Zico, Rivaldo, Kaka, Ronaldinho and Neymar. The player is not to blame but the coaching staff is because they know the weight of this shirt.”
In European terms, Italy springs to mind as a classic No 10 country. Traditionally, Italian sides would deploy a “trequartista” — essentially three-quarter-man, as in three-quarters of the way up the pitch — behind two outright forwards. Compared to the South American model, the Italian No 10 tended to have more grace, and play in a calmer manner. Gianni Rivera, who starred for Milan throughout the 1960s and 1970s, and most famously for Italy at World Cup 1970, was a classic example of a refined, almost statesmanlike No 10 famed for assists rather than his goals. Giancarlo Antognoni, the greatest player in Fiorentina’s history, was a similar example.
In the modern era, Roberto Baggio was the world’s greatest No 10 during the early 1990s, starring on home soil at World Cup 1990 before being the fall guy four years later when his missed penalty confirmed Italy’s defeat in the final to Brazil. Baggio’s role in Arrigo Sacchi’s Italy had caused much debate amongst the public — Sacchi fielded him as a second striker whereas the public, and Baggio himself, wanted him in the classic Italian trequartista role, behind two forwards. Sacchi believed a 4-3-1-2 made it difficult for the side to remain compact, however, and he was also against the idea of building the side around one individual.
Alessandro Del Piero briefly made the Italy No 10 shirt his own, although he was more of an inside-left, a second striker, rather than a genuine No 10. Later, Francesco Totti took on the mantle of the shirt. His most memorable season for Roma was 2000-01, when he played behind Gabriel Batistuta and Vincenzo Montella in Fabio Capello’s 3-4-1-2, although Totti proved very versatile, shining as a second striker, as a false 9 or from the left of a 4-3-3. Italy haven’t truly found a replacement for Totti since he retired in the aftermath of World Cup 2006 success. When talented Roma youngster Nicolo Zaniolo was in good form last season and asked if he would like to wear Totti’s old No 10 shirt, the answer was immediate. “I wouldn’t even think about it. I’d like to keep my own number, out of respect for the captain (Totti). I wouldn’t even try to say yes.”
Elsewhere in Europe, you can find a South American-esque reverence towards the No 10 in the Balkans. In particular, Croatia manages to produce more than its fair share of No 10s, with 1990s legends like Robert Prosinecki and Zvonimir Bobab inspiring their modern equivalents, Luka Modric and Ivan Rakitic. They’ve both adjusted to deeper positions in Spain, although in their formative years, were certainly more typical No 10s, playing at the top of midfield.
France’s relationship with the No 10 is essentially based around two men. No-one has ever enjoyed a better European Championship than Michel Platini in 1984, when he scored in all five matches, including two hat-tricks, for a ludicrous final tally of nine goals. It was unusual for a No 10 to be such a prolific goalscorer, however, and when France finally found a decent replacement in the shape of Zinedine Zidane, he shied away from the comparison because, in his words, he was neither a goalscorer nor a true leader.
Zidane interpreted the No 10 position very differently to Platini. If the most typical No 10s are somewhere between a midfielder and a forward, it’s unquestionable that Zidane was very much the former. He often operated deeper than you would expect, and though he’s famed for scoring goals in finals — two headers from corners at World Cup 1998 and his astonishing left-footed volley in the Champions League final four years later — he didn’t often pop up in the box. He also wasn’t regularly seen in the shirt at club level, wearing No 21 for Juventus and No 5 with Real Madrid, because of the presence of Del Piero and Luis Figo respectively. France have relatively rarely depended upon a No 10 since then and now the shirt is worn by Kylian Mbappe, a speedy forward.
Other major European countries are less obsessed with the shirt. Spanish football prides itself in developing deeper midfielders who generally prefer 4, 6 and 8. Dutch football has often been based around 4-3-3, which doesn’t have a place for a traditional No 10. When Dennis Bergkamp played as as withdrawn forward at Ajax, Dutch journalists felt the need to invent a new term for his position: “schaduwspits”, meaning shadow striker. Bergkamp was actually Ajax’s main goalscorer and when Dutch sides play with a traditional No 10, the system is often about the No 9 servicing the No 10 through movement, rather than the No 10 servicing the No 9 with through balls.
In recent times, Ajax can also take plenty of credit for the development of Christian Eriksen, the best Danish No 10 since the elusive, selfless Michael Laudrup. His Barcelona boss Johan Cruyff, intriguingly, once said that the only thing stopping Laudrup from being the world’s best player was that he came from a rich country — in other words, implying he lacked the scrapping, fighting spirit of others. The likes of Hristo Stiochkov and Gheorghe Hagi, two other natural No 10s at Cruyff’s Barca, were the type of player he was referencing, and took Bulgaria and Romania respectively to new heights in the mid-1990s.
German football has occasionally produced talented No 10s — Mesut Ozil is the most recent example, although he’s often credited his Turkish roots for the creative side of his game. German football’s relationship with the No 10 shirt was actually most interesting when they were still obsessed with converting attacking midfielders into sweepers, a practice which essentially died out at the turn of the century. Beforehand, though, it wasn’t entirely unusual to witness a No 10 playing at the back. When Bayern defeated Kaiserslautern 2-0 in the 1998-99 Champions League, for example, both sides fielded a No 10 as a sweeper — Lothar Matthaus and Ciriaco Sforza respectively. Traditional centre-backs shouldn’t be allowed near No 10 — see William Gallas at Arsenal — but playmakers converted into sweepers is a different situation altogether.
Portuguese football has tended to produce star wingers like Luis Figo and Cristiano Ronaldo (and, it must be said, the aforementioned Futre, who wasn’t really a true No 10) rather than central playmakers, although the absolutely magnificent Rui Costa was an obvious exception. More than most, he absolutely epitomised the No 10 role, running matches with elegance and purpose, dribbling fluidly and playing killer through passes, most notably for Gabriel Batistuta during their extended period together for Fiorentina. His successor at international level was Deco, a Brazilian, and in recent years, Portugal have tended to produce more complete, versatile midfielders. Renato Sanches, Bernardo Silva and now Bruno Fernandes have all been hyped as Portugal’s next great attacking midfielder, although none fit the No 10 shirt quite as perfectly as Rui Costa.
English football’s relationship with the No 10 shirt is curious. Traditionally, English sides played 4-4-2, or sometimes 3-5-2, which meant no obvious position for the classic No 10. Teddy Sheringham’s tendency to drop into deeper zones briefly ensured the withdrawn striker position became known as “the Teddy Sheringham role”, a self-titled status perhaps only Claude Makelele has also reached. But Sheringham was certainly a second striker rather than a true No 10, while England’s recent world-class attacking midfielders, the likes of Paul Gascoigne, Frank Lampard and Steven Gerrard, have been No 8s rather than No 10s.
England haven’t always got their shirt numbers right upfront. Gary Lineker and Michael Owen were both out-and-out strikers who wore No 10, while Bobby Charlton was an attacking midfielder who wore No 9. Wayne Rooney was a No 9 when very much a second striker, and then a No 10 when his best position was less clear. Harry Kane wears No 10 for club but No 9 for England, while the No 10 shirt was worn by speedy attacker Raheem Sterling at World Cup 2018, and then by midfielder Harry Winks in their most recent competitive match.
England are now unique as the only European nation who sticks to 1-11 numbering throughout qualification matches, rather than assigning permanent squad numbers, and therefore, when there’s a change in system, it often results in one — or more — players looking a little uncomfortable in their new shirt.
Yet English players are nevertheless drawn to the number. The most recent Premier League match — and perhaps the final Premier League match for some time — was Leicester City v Aston Villa, which was cast as a showdown for an England place between James Maddison and Jack Grealish. Both wore the No 10 shirt, and therefore the contest felt like a match from Argentina — our playmaker against your playmaker.
Both are modern, versatile attacking midfielders, more regularly fielded in the position of a No 8 or from the left of midfield, and there’s an argument that the No 10 has become about status rather than role. The last World Cup saw midfielders like Granit Xhaka, John Obi Mikel and Grzegorz Krychowiak wearing No 10, a recognition of their seniority rather than their role.
But the glamour and the romance of the No 10 shirt is undeniable, and while classic No 10s may have faded from the modern game, the increased prominence of false 9s, wide players who can drift inside and deep-lying playmakers means that, rather than there being no players who can reasonably wear No 10, there are actually more than ever before.
Murray 17
Well-known member
- Jul 6, 2003
- 2,159
I don't wish to blow your theory out of the water, but Dalglish always played at No 7 for Liverpool! [emoji3]
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Central attacking midfielders are pretty rare these days though, since almost every team these days play with two defensive midfielders, something that started already in the mid 90s. Also with the data revolution it is no longer "theory" but "fact" that forcing your opponents to play on the wings rather than centrally is the superior way of defending - meaning if you want your no 10 to have any space at all, you need to deploy him on the wing.
Machiavelli
Well-known member
This is not my theory. It's widely referred to terminology within the history of football. To reiterate an earlier point, if you want the best exposition on this, read Inverting the Pyramid by Jonathan Wilson.