Directions of deference

The easy answer for Daniel Farke, and the answer he probably wanted to give, was 'One of them is Christian Pulisic, one of them is not.' He'd been asked if he knew why the USMNT had granted Pulisic early leave to return to AC Milan, citing his workload, while Brenden Aaronson had played the same amount this season and stayed to add another ninety minutes against Mexico. Why wasn't Aaronson also allowed to leave early? Well, is he Christian Pulisic? Are Leeds United AC Milan?

Farke couldn't say this, promising instead that he didn't want to make any 'accusations' or besmirch the good name and work of new USMNT head coach Mauricio Pochettino. Instead he was spinning it as a positive — a few months ago, the US would have sent Aaronson home for being rubbish. Now things are different — they played him through all of their defeat to Mexico, despite player-turned-pundit Charlie Davies giving him 2/10 on CBS and saying, "I’ve never seen Brenden Aaronson play that bad in my entire life."

The whole scenario summed up the Championship's awkward relationship to international football, as a league with enough international players that it closes during international rounds, but nonetheless a second tier league barred from the arguments about workload and unable to organise its 46 rounds of matches so that players flying back from all points of the globe are not being thrown into Leeds United vs Sheffield United on a Friday night. Pulisic, meanwhile, can be flown back early before Udinese visit Milan on Saturday teatime, arguing that the eight round difference between the Serie A and Championship fixture lists is made up for by at least eight games in the Champions League.

These are the shifting rules of football deference, where nobody is entirely sure who should be being respectful to whom, only that everybody is supposed to be respectful to the right people, or else. Where Brenden Aaronson is Brenden Aaronson and Christian Pulisic is not, although by some measures their status is not so different — the Medford Messi is one of the stars of US Soccer, like all their exports to Europe, even Weston McKennie. But by another measure Brenden Aaronson plays in Europe for Leeds, so he's not Christian Pulisic.

Thomas Tuchel is trying to navigate these shifting sands of status as the new — German born — manager of the England men's national team. At his unveiling he pushed his answer to one of the big questions of the day, about whether he'll sing the English national anthem before games, away until March when he'll be about to manage his first one, implying that's how far down the subject is on his list of priorities. The media's priorities are different, though, and they may actually have cheered being given licence to ask all over again in the lead up to his first match, knowing that this nonsense traps him. If he doesn't sing the national anthem, he's not fit to serve in charge of this proud nation's greatest institution, after Greggs. And if he does — wasn't it bad enough having a German managing our national team, without him insulting us by singing an anthem that's nothing to do with him?

I expect Tuchel will opt for respecting the anthem without singing it, in which case we can use VAR tools to ensure his body language and expression display the requisite reverence, perhaps hooking him up to some medium voltage wires that can be used to let him know if he's deemed not solemn enough. Either that, or he'll rap it. Whatever happens, who or what all this palaver is supposed to be respecting will remain obscure.

It's simpler to understand the expectations of deference lately being demanded of Marcelo Bielsa by retired Uruguay striker Luis Suarez, who has been saying plenty about their brief time together recently. Part of Suarez's complaint is that he wanted Bielsa to treat the players with more outward respect at national training camps, because Suarez is a thin-skinned egotistical prick who expects everyone — even his boss — to treat him like they're part of an entourage of sycophants.