Regarding Lewandowski, the argument goes like this. With him in the XI, this is a Barcelona era when a significant degree of the positional and passing style that is central to the Rinus Michels/Johan Cruyff/Pep Guardiola idea of how to play is sacrificed or reduced. On the other hand, the Polish star brings absolute mastery of how to produce often remarkable goals — particularly in tight situations.
What gets sacrificed are the fluency of movement, the intricacy of build-up play, the rapid interchanging of positions and how creatively possession is used in the final third. Lewandowski’s associative and “build-up” play isn’t fantastic. And although he doesn’t hover around the penalty spot selfishly waiting to be served, he is, without question, an old fashioned “No. 9” whose best work is done either when he’s supplied with exceptional crosses into the box or when an opponent’s defensive line (often five or six men) is ragged.
It’s wholly natural that, at 34, his athletic speed is declining. He won’t usually win a sprint if the ball’s played long into space behind a high defensive line and, one-on-one, he’s less likely to go past a young, strong, clever marker. Some evidence nudging us further towards these conclusions comes from his failure to score, or make a serious impact, in four of Barcelona’s five matches against Bayern Munich, Inter and Real Madrid. Those who watched how Inter (in Milan), Madrid and Bayern — especially at Camp Nou — nullified Lewandowski and prevented him from getting the quality of possession he now needs will have been prepared for the pallid, sluggish performances he gave for Poland during the World Cup.
He remains brilliant, but he’s 34, human and no longer the rampaging colossus of his absolute peak.
