Tinkering the little details could be crucial to Irish hopes

When you really stop and think about it, Giovanni Trapattoni’s comments on Monday night were pretty startling.

After four years of absolutely refusing to budge from the same rigid 4-4-2 formation, he was suddenly — and very surprisingly — contemplating a switch to three in midfield. It’s even more amazing when you consider the recent context.

Look, after all, at what failed to convince him. In March 2009, there was a constant concession of possession to Bulgaria. In October 2010, there was a filleting at the feet of Russia. Five months later, there were the problems Macedonia posed at Lansdowne Road. And, in September of last year, there was the miracle of Moscow.

Still, he was unmoved... until a mere warm-up in Budapest brought a manager as “unbending” as Trapattoni to the brink. Only to the brink, though.

Because, as it stands, it seems unlikely that he will force a new system on the team tomorrow in Poznan. According to Robbie Keane and Jon Walters, the squad haven’t been practising any new formations in training at all.

“Not yet,” Keane claimed. “I wouldn’t say the formation will change. We wouldn’t just automatically go to [three in central midfield] when we haven’t done it for a long time.”

And that notion of time, really, is the key issue when it comes to this mooted conversion. Trapattoni has said that, even if he doesn’t use it tomorrow, it now has to be under consideration after Croatia.

The history of international tournaments, to be fair, is filled with inspired improvisations in formations.

The most famous of recent times — and perhaps the most relevant to Ireland, given the shared tactical backgrounds of the squads — was Bobby Robson’s switch to a sweeper system with England at Italia 90.

Like so many such moves, this was born of a minor adjustment rather than a major plan. In short, Robson was petrified of Marco van Basten and Wim Kieft shredding through his flat back four in England’s second game, against the Netherlands.

“Bobby was thinking about changing because of the way the Dutch played,” Gary Lineker has said. “He went to the experienced players — Bryan Robson, myself, Terry Butcher, Peter Shilton — and we all thought it would suit the type of players we had, particularly with Mark Wright, who was a natural player to come out with the ball.” The switch succeeded, stayed in place and then propelled England to the only international semi-final they’ve ever contested outside their own country.

Twelve years later, Guus Hiddink would guide Korea to the same stage of the same competition without ever playing the same formation in any game. Two years after that, Otto Rehhagel’s Greece would famously go even further with the same flexibility.

Perhaps the most fascinating of all such formation changes, though, come from the best team of all. It was only on the eve of the 1970 World Cup that Mario Zagallo stumbled on the framework that allowed Brazil to play arguably the finest football the international game has ever seen. Previously, they looked uncomfortable and unconnected. By then, they were linking brilliantly and effortlessly.

All of this, of course, offers encouragement for any ideas Trapattoni has of switching. But it comes with heavy caveats.

For one, they’re all remembered because they were successful. By contrast, no-one generally recalls Germany’s switch to 3-6-1 for their last group game of Euro 2000. Looking to rescue their tournament, they were routed 3-0 as Portugal further unravelled a shapeless mess.

And that leads into the second caveat. To a certain degree, the foundations that facilitated those more successful changes were already in place. As Lineker said, the sweeper system simply “suited” England in 1990. It just felt a natural fit; one that didn’t really need proper preparation because the players were so comfortable in it. Sometimes, it can be that simple. It is, however, also that rare.

Korea and Greece were the opposite. They didn’t necessarily have the players that suited any single system but, instead, trained in a way that actually allowed instant, match-by-match changes.

Ireland, as we know, don’t. Indeed, Trapattoni has spent the last four years inculcating his team into a very specific approach.

In that case, there is at least the possibility that any switch so close to so many crunch games could actually prove to be a culture shock.

Such changes, after all, are rarely as simple as just moving a position. They may necessitate a different rhythm of play; different reference points; different interchanges to be understood.

It’s these kinds of intricacies that often explain why we suddenly see an international player lump a long ball out to empty a space on a wing. He’s usually accustomed to having his full-back raid up there.

Given all of that, any changes Trapattoni makes are likely to be more cosmetic than comprehensive.

“If there is an adjustment, it will be a minor thing,” Keane says, “me sitting on the holding midfielder maybe.” Minor that may be. But, for Trapattoni, it’s a major signal.