Total control: The cult of Louis van Gaal

There was a time when the great philosophers wrestled with less crucial posers. Stuff like whether the world exists at all outside the mind.

The big thinkers came up with a good few theories on that one, though I’m not sure if they ever truly got to the bottom of it. But we got on with things anyway, out in the notional world, which may or may not have answered the question.

Nowadays, the great philosophers have been pressed into the sporting arenas and have to do a bit more to earn their corn.

In hurling, for example, Derek McGrath thought about a team with no forwards, therefore he is.

Brentford have appointed Flemming Pedersen as Head of Football Philosophy, to get them to the Premier League or convince Bees fans that, ontologically, the Premier League is an unprovable construct.

And there is LVG. Van Gaalism must now rank with existentialism, rationalism, nihilism and co among the most quoted philosophies, even if it is Louis doing most of the quoting.

Like most of this stuff, Van Gaalism seems abstract. We can’t be confident we will ever truly get to the bottom of it.

Which is what made this week so exciting. A glimpse of a central tenet of Van Gaalism and a step closer to enlightenment. Get your highlighter and jot this in yellow: The reserve keeper must play in the reserves.

And so it is goodbye to Victor Valdes. “He doesn’t follow my philosophy. There’s no place for someone like that.”

There was better, if vaguer, news about Morgan Schneiderlin: “Morgan is the type that I think can play in our system and in our philosophy.”

Presumably, more will be expected from Morgan than a willingness to play in the reserves. But many further years of study may be needed to gain any more clarity than that.

Van Gaal has always had clarity on what makes him the best. “I think it’s my philosophy because it binds players with my training and in my career I have had a lot of players who are fascinated by that philosophy.”

Manchester United fans might be fascinated too, but one year on, they aren’t much closer to working out what LVG’s philosophy entails.

To the casual observer, it doesn’t appear dissimilar to a philosophy recently employed quite successfully by Chelsea and Manchester City: buy all the players. And if that doesn’t work, buy more.

Digging deeper, United fans will have remembered LVG over the years insisting: “4-3-3, always 4-3-3” and then lining out a 3-5-1 at Old Trafford and later a 4-4-2 with a ‘diamond’. But as long ago as his Alkmaar days, LVG assured us the philosophy was more important than the system.

The United faithful might have assumed, from LVG’s many philosophical discussions, that possession and short-passing were two more tenets of The Philosophy. But as Nietzsche put it, there is more wisdom in your body than your deepest philosophy.

In LVG’s case, it was the formidable, hulking body of Marouane Fellaini that beguiled him and he found a new kind of wisdom in directing punts towards that body at every opportunity.

Indeed, as the season wore on, and United finally found form following injuries to Van Persie and Luke Shaw, the return of the discarded Herrera, and the relocation, out of harm’s way, of Daley Blind; the more philosophical United fan might have accepted that life — under LVG — is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.

In Louis van Gaal, the Biography, Maarten Meijer attempted to break the philosopher’s circle by detailing Louis’s philosophy.

“Multi-functional players who could play with both feet, had both defensive and attacking capabilities, were physically strong, quick starters, had the necessary tactical acumen to function smoothly in different formations and above all, use their skills as part of a collective team effort.”

It sounded like one of those generic corporate mission statements that concludes with “solutions that meet customer needs at an affordable price”.

Surely LVG had something more to tell them at Bayern, for instance?

Early doors in Munich, Franck Ribery complained that The Philosophy was hard to understand. But by the time Ribery was jumping into Louis’s arms after scoring and Bayern were marching to a title and Champions League final, these men had found enlightenment.

“I have never witnessed such an overwhelming percentage of people believing in my philosophy,” thrilled LVG, undaunted that he had to show them his balls in the dressing room to achieve true understanding.

At Barcelona, LVG is credited for building on the Cruyff philosophy and creating a legacy for Pep. But Johan, who would count himself among the LVG sceptics, was keen to highlight an important difference in their philosophies.

“I want individuals to think for themselves and take the decision on the pitch best for the situation. He wants to control all the situations.”

Luca Toni, despite enjoying a full frontal of the LVG balls, agreed with that assessment. “Van Gaal simply didn’t want to work with me, he treats players like interchangeable objects.”

LVG was also keen to take credit for shaping the Bayern philosophy that created another legacy for Pep, but then-president Uli Hoeness, another sceptic, nailed that one. “Before the world existed, there was Louis... he cleared out the bad inheritance of his predecessor Jurgen Klinsmann for us” was as much credit as Uli was giving.

In fairness to LVG, he had another clean-up job to do at Old Trafford.

And whatever shape his philosophy takes, most United fans are happier to be back in the hands of a man who wants to control every situation.

Too much theory in the clash of the ash

Hurling, too, seems to be a game caught up in philosophising at the moment. And when you’re gazing at your navel, you tend to drive silly wides off your bad side.

This new revolution — the Fields of Fire years — was supposed to deliver us all the old thrills, just spiced with more fluidity and reshaped by original ideas.

But last weekend’s qualifiers were hurled self-consciously, as though everyone had thought too much about it.

And the Waterford system, given its sternest test, didn’t clean up much fancier than a damage limitation exercise.

We shouldn’t worry too much.

‘Transition’ was the word Dónal Óg Cusack used. The game is too mercurial for anyone to imprison it in tight spaces.

Hurling will never be a happy hunting ground for the man who wants to control every situation.