The Game Has Changed (Part One) - “He Won the Ball”

In the dying embers of Wednesday afternoon’s Club World Cup clash between Manchester City and Wydad Casablanca, full-back Rico Lewis launched into a 50-50 challenge. He won the ball cleanly, but the studs-up follow-through caught Samuel Obeng in the face, and Lewis was shown a straight red card.

It was the sort of tackle that once brought crowds to their feet. Now, it earns a dismissal. Lewis looked visibly stunned, and a wave of outrage followed online. Social media was full of fans stating a familiar complaint: “He won the ball.”

To fans steeped in old-school football culture, it was a perfect, hard challenge – robust, brave, committed. A red card? Ludicrous.

But to others, viewing through the lens of modern player welfare and officiating standards, the verdict was clear: the challenge was reckless, the follow-through dangerous, and the red card entirely justified.

This wasn’t just a one-off incident; it was another flashpoint in a two-decade-long cultural clash between eras. And it raises a bigger question: what do we truly value in football anymore? What is the essence of the game we grew up watching, and how has it evolved?

There was a time when winning the ball was the ultimate defence. If you got the ball, that was that – no foul, no controversy. But the laws and their interpretations have shifted, reflecting a broader professional and cultural reassessment of physical contact, player safety, and intent.

Officials, both on the pitch and in the VAR booth, are frequently blamed, sometimes unfairly. Many fans and players still operate by the unwritten code: if the ball is won, the tackle is legitimate. But referees are not followers of that informal consensus; they are obliged to uphold the written laws of the game.

And those laws are explicit. According to the IFAB’s Laws of the Game, a player is guilty of serious foul play if they “endanger the safety of an opponent” or use “excessive force or brutality,” regardless of whether the ball is won. A lunge from any direction, using one or both legs, that risks an opponent’s safety must be sanctioned accordingly.

Fans often direct their frustration at the wrong target. The officials aren’t making it up; they’re applying codified laws. The debate shouldn’t be with referees doing their job, but with the lawmakers who have changed the job description.

This isn’t an isolated case. It’s one of many moments in recent football memory, particularly in the Premier League, that have ignited fierce debate between traditionalists and those embracing a more modern approach. And at the heart of it is a fundamental tension between the game as it was and the game as it’s becoming.

Take Leeds United defender Luke Ayling’s red card against Arsenal in May 2022. Chasing Gabriel Martinelli into the corner, Ayling launched into a full-blooded, two-footed challenge, clearing the ball out of play but crashing through Martinelli in the process. The referee showed a straight red. Outrage followed. The justification was familiar: “He won the ball.”

Another high-profile example came in the chaotic clash between Tottenham Hotspur and Chelsea in November 2023. Cristian Romero, the Spurs centre-back, flew into a challenge on his Argentinian compatriot Enzo Fernández inside the box. He made a clean connection with the ball, but his studs followed through, catching Fernández above the ankle. The result? Penalty awarded. Red card issued. Tottenham fans were furious. Once again: “He won the ball.”

Even Vincent Kompany’s now-iconic challenge on Nani in the 2012 FA Cup, a moment many recall as a captain leading by example in a high-stakes Manchester derby, divided opinion. Kompany charged in with both feet off the ground, forcing Nani to leap out of the way to avoid impact. Despite winning the ball cleanly and making minimal contact, referee Chris Foy showed red. There was no VAR then. No second angles or slow-motion replays. City fans weren’t happy, after all, “he won the ball.”

The outcry from that decision still echoes over a decade later. Writing in 2013, Christopher Harris captured the debate perfectly in World Soccer Talk:

“On top of all of this, you have to wonder what has happened to tackling in this sport. Slowly but surely, the art of tackling is being eradicated from the game. While Kompany’s tackle was dangerous, the degree of recklessness about it was relatively minor due to the lack of force Kompany put into it as well as Nani jumping out of the way to avoid a collision. By penalizing tackles like this, footballers will think twice about tackling. Sure, safe tackling will continue to exist, but players may hold back from committing tougher tackles, even if the tackles themselves are lawful, for fear that referees will penalize them or make the wrong decision.”

In many ways, little has changed. The line between aggression and recklessness has grown ever thinner, and ever more consequential.

What’s shifted is the framework of interpretation. Today, intent is no longer the guiding principle. Reckless endangerment alone is sufficient for sanction. Football, rightly, is more aware than ever of long-term injuries, concussions, and the real-life consequences of dangerous play.

But in prioritising safety, the game has tilted towards risk mitigation over competitive aggression. What was once lauded as “commitment” is now framed as “carelessness.”

For traditionalists, this shift can feel like a continued erosion of the game’s soul. The combative elements of football are increasingly policed out of existence. But for others, it’s a necessary evolution. With improved medical research, greater awareness of brain trauma, and an environment where every decision is replayed and dissected online, the game has little choice but to adapt.

Tackling hasn’t disappeared. It’s been redefined. And with that redefinition comes a fundamental reassessment, not just of how football is played, but of what it means to play it.