Why missing penalties never surprises
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William McCrum was a prince of industry, chess master, amateur dramatist, County High Sheriff and Justice of the Peace but he also found time to keep goal for Milford in County Armagh. By 1890 he had witnessed enough skulduggery from defenders to submit a proposal that a penalty kick should be instituted for those transgressing the laws of the game close to goal. This was approved by the Irish Football Association but outraged the English FA who was of the opinion that gentlemen didn’t cheat. There was even a team that refused to take penalties on that basis. That didn’t last for long! So, since the penalty kick had obviously come to stay the attention switched to how to take them and how to save them.
A goal is a rectangle eight yards wide and eight feet high. The penalty spot is twelve yards distant and the keeper starts, at least, on his goal line. If the taker kicks the ball with sufficient pace into an area close to either goal post it is physically impossible to prevent it entering the net. So how come so many penalties are missed? It’s one of soccer’s enigmas.
There are many theories on how to take penalty kicks. There are the blasters, those who aim to hit the ball so hard that its pace will defeat the keeper’s reflexes. There are those who hit the ball straight at the centre of the goal on the basis that the goalkeeper will vacate this space by diving one way or the other. And there are those who try to disguise their kicking action, delaying the moment of impact until the keeper has his weight on the wrong foot. That’s all it takes to render a goalkeeper impotent.
Keepers used to have better odds but another Irish keeper put a stop to that. In Tom Faquharson’s day keepers were free to rush off their goal line as the kick was taken. It not only put the kicker off but also increased the keeper’s chances considerably by narrowing the angle. Farquharson was pretty good at the ploy and he used it in the 1927 FA Cup Quarter Final against Chelsea to block Andy Wilson’s kick on the six yard line. Cardiff went on to win the cup. Soon after that keepers were tethered to their goal lines for spot kicks.
Nevertheless keepers have continued to prosper. A notable penalty save was that made by Packie Bonner, diving to his right to keep out Timofte’s kick in Ireland’s tie with Romania in the 1990 World Cup Finals. This, of course, was a shoot out penalty, quite different from one conceded in play. “You have to prevent the ball entering the net, “ explains Packie, “But if you can, the ball is then dead. You’ve done your job.” Anticipation was the key to success. “You have less than half a second to make a decision.” Based, perhaps, on a clue given in the striker’s approach Packie would move his feet one way in order to give himself the impetus to dive the other.
“The Goalkeepers Fear of the Penalty” established German film director Wim Wenders reputation but it’s not a title that rings true to me. As a goalkeeper I was fearful of many areas of play that might result in ignominy. But I was never fearful when a penalty was awarded against my side. The supporters might see the moment as one of ultimate peril. The taker might see it as his easiest chance to score. But I had nothing to fear. You see, a goalkeeper is not expected to save a penalty. If he does he achieves the hero status that is the keeper’s holy grail. Fear of the corner kick? Certainly. Fear of the penalty? Sorry, Herr Wenders, the boot’s on the other foot.
A goal is a rectangle eight yards wide and eight feet high. The penalty spot is twelve yards distant and the keeper starts, at least, on his goal line. If the taker kicks the ball with sufficient pace into an area close to either goal post it is physically impossible to prevent it entering the net. So how come so many penalties are missed? It’s one of soccer’s enigmas.
There are many theories on how to take penalty kicks. There are the blasters, those who aim to hit the ball so hard that its pace will defeat the keeper’s reflexes. There are those who hit the ball straight at the centre of the goal on the basis that the goalkeeper will vacate this space by diving one way or the other. And there are those who try to disguise their kicking action, delaying the moment of impact until the keeper has his weight on the wrong foot. That’s all it takes to render a goalkeeper impotent.
Keepers used to have better odds but another Irish keeper put a stop to that. In Tom Faquharson’s day keepers were free to rush off their goal line as the kick was taken. It not only put the kicker off but also increased the keeper’s chances considerably by narrowing the angle. Farquharson was pretty good at the ploy and he used it in the 1927 FA Cup Quarter Final against Chelsea to block Andy Wilson’s kick on the six yard line. Cardiff went on to win the cup. Soon after that keepers were tethered to their goal lines for spot kicks.
Nevertheless keepers have continued to prosper. A notable penalty save was that made by Packie Bonner, diving to his right to keep out Timofte’s kick in Ireland’s tie with Romania in the 1990 World Cup Finals. This, of course, was a shoot out penalty, quite different from one conceded in play. “You have to prevent the ball entering the net, “ explains Packie, “But if you can, the ball is then dead. You’ve done your job.” Anticipation was the key to success. “You have less than half a second to make a decision.” Based, perhaps, on a clue given in the striker’s approach Packie would move his feet one way in order to give himself the impetus to dive the other.
“The Goalkeepers Fear of the Penalty” established German film director Wim Wenders reputation but it’s not a title that rings true to me. As a goalkeeper I was fearful of many areas of play that might result in ignominy. But I was never fearful when a penalty was awarded against my side. The supporters might see the moment as one of ultimate peril. The taker might see it as his easiest chance to score. But I had nothing to fear. You see, a goalkeeper is not expected to save a penalty. If he does he achieves the hero status that is the keeper’s holy grail. Fear of the corner kick? Certainly. Fear of the penalty? Sorry, Herr Wenders, the boot’s on the other foot.
