Words: Jonee // @Jonee13
We often overuse the word “genius”, and to some extent, that’s understandable – after all, celebrating what and who we love is part of life. In the world of football, the term is thrown around frequently, applied to teams, players, plays, and decisions. We tend to accept and use it casually. But if I’m honest, for me, there is only one genius in football.
Johan Cruyff.
Cruyff was born on 25 April 1947 and passed away on 24 March 2016, having played his final game in the 1983/84 season – just a few months before I was born. I never had the chance to see him play live or meet him in person, so claiming to be an expert would be absurd. What I am, however, is a devoted fan.
As a die-hard FC Porto fan, I don’t usually care for other teams, but growing up, I’ve always held a special fondness for Ajax and Barcelona. Their unique style of play captivated me, as did their deep connection, forged by Cruyff’s playing years, and, above all, his revolutionary ideas and concepts. Through one man - first as a player, then a manager, and later a director – these two extraordinary clubs became intricately linked, and somewhere along the way, they captured my heart too.
Johan Cruyff was a remarkable figure, a man of many talents who embodied the concept of Total Football as a player before expanding those ideas to pioneer what could be called absolute football. His philosophy centred on skill, precise passing, and constant movement among all players on the pitch. After all, when you control the ball and every player knows how to use it and where to move to receive it, football becomes extraordinarily simple. That’s the essence of his genius: pass, move to receive, and repeat, in perpetual motion. It sounds remarkably straightforward – and it is – but genius often lies in such simplicity.
Cruyff’s influence is ubiquitous. Ajax still strives to embody allout attacking football, though it falters more often these days. Barcelona remains ‘condemned’ to a passing style, aiming to outsmart and outpass every opponent, even if this pursuit sometimes sacrifices silverware. Cruyf’'s ideas permeate Spanish football, with its relentless emphasis on skilled passers in every position and constant movement to regain possession. In England, Pep Guardiola continually evolves his mentor’s principles, and Cruyff’s legacy thrives wherever football is played and contemplated.
Johan Cruyff transformed football into a thinking person’s game. This isn’t to suggest that before him it was merely about running and kicking, but Cruyff revealed a smarter way to play, even if it doesn’t always guarantee victory against teams with contrasting styles. After all, genius is not synonymous with perfection – more often than not, they are opposites. Compared to some sports, football is inherently simpler, which has always fuelled its global growth: anyone can place two stones on the ground to create a goal. So, when someone like Cruyff emerged, seeking to simplify the game further, it was warmly embraced by the footballing world.
Cruyff on international duty for The Netherlands.
Photo Credit: The Guardian
For as long as I can recall, I’ve viewed European football through the lens of distinct schools of thought. The British school thrives on relentless intensity and box-to-box running: the Germanic school blends formidable physical prowess with skill, rendering teams nearly unstoppable: the Italian school excels in world-class defending, impeccable positioning, and lethal counter-attacks: and finally, the Cruyff school revolves around precise passing, fluid movement, and focused flair. Of course, these aren’t the only ways to play, but since I began following football, I’ve mentally categorised the continent this way. Over the years, I’ve greatly enjoyed watching teams from each of these footballing philosophies.
Over the years, we’ve witnessed thrilling clashes between teams embodying these footballing ideals, with silverware distributed fairly evenly, reflecting football’s natural tendency to embrace diverse ideas and styles. There’s no single best way to win – only different paths to victory. What a wonderful game this sport of ours truly is.
I’ve fallen in love with numerous players, many of whom were masters of passing. I like to think their artistry reflects Cruyff’s concepts, even if some might have clashed with the man himself. Players like Bergkamp, Zidane, Deco, Iniesta, Riquelme, Redondo, Messi, Hagi, Pirlo, and countless others have left an indelible mark on my footballing passion, one that will stay with me forever. To pass the ball is to let the game breathe, to allow it to constantly evolve – and that, to me, is the essence of Cruyff’s legacy.
I was captivated by the Cruyff school of thought—its relentless focus on passing, movement, and flair. But no genius stands alone, and for Johan Cruyff, the seeds of his brilliance were sown by Rinus Michels, the architect of Total Football. Michels, who coached Cruyff at Ajax and later Barcelona, didn’t just manage a team; he crafted a philosophy that turned football into a fluid, thinking person’s game. It was under Michels that Cruyff, already a prodigious talent, found the structure to become a visionary, absorbing ideas that would define his career and beyond.
Michels introduced a radical concept: every player could attack, defend, and create, regardless of position. This was Total Football, a system where roles blurred, and the ball dictated movement. For a young Cruyff, it was a revelation. Michels’ rigorous training and tactical demands sharpened Cruyff’s instincts, teaching him to orchestrate the pitch with precision. I can’t help but admire how Michels’ trust in Cruyff’s intelligence allowed the player to refine this system, turning Ajax into a force and later carrying those principles to Barcelona. It’s no wonder I see echoes of Michels’ disciplined freedom in every Cruyff-inspired pass I’ve cherished.
What strikes me most is how Michels’ influence lingered in Cruyff’s soul. As a player, Cruyff embodied Total Football’s elegance; as a manager, he expanded it into absolute football, simplifying the game to its purest form. Yet, it all traces back to Michels’ belief that football could be both beautiful and cerebral. Players like Bergkamp, Iniesta, and Messi, who’ve left an indelible mark on my footballing passion, owe a debt to Cruyff—and, by extension, to Michels. To me, this is the magic of football’s evolution: one man’s vision, passed to another, forever transforming how the game breathes.
Rinus Michels: The Godfather of Total Football.
Photo Credit: Attacking Football
As a Porto fan enchanted by skill, I see Cruyff’s touch in both Ajax and Barcelona’s club histories, transforming them into beacons of a footballing ideal that still captivates me. His journey through these institutions didn’t just win trophies; it redefined what football could be.
As a player, Cruyff was Ajax’s lightning bolt. Joining their senior side in 1964, he brought Rinus Michels’ Total Football to life, darting across the pitch with a mind that saw passes others couldn’t. His elegance and intelligence led Ajax to three consecutive European Cups from 1971 to 1973, a feat that cemented their place in history. When he moved to Barcelona in 1973, he carried that same magic, lifting a struggling club to a La Liga title in his first season and igniting a love affair with Catalonia. Watching old footage, I’m struck by how Cruyff’s play—fluid, instinctive, masterful—made both clubs feel like extensions of his vision.
As a manager, Cruyff returned to both clubs and reshaped them with even deeper conviction. At Ajax from 1985, he built a team that played with his signature rhythm, winning a European Cup Winners’ Cup in 1987 and nurturing talents like Van Basten. But it was at Barcelona, from 1988 to 1996, where his genius truly soared. His ‘Dream Team’ won four consecutive La Liga titles and the club’s first European Cup in 1992, all while perfecting a passing style that felt like poetry. I can’t help but feel a thrill imagining those Camp Nou nights, where Cruyff’s ideas turned the pitch into a canvas of constant evolution, a legacy that pulls at my footballing passion.
Later, as a director and advisor, Cruyff’s influence endured like a quiet pulse. At Ajax, he pushed for a return to youth-focused, attacking football through his ‘Velvet Revolution’ from 2010, clashing with bureaucracy to revive the club’s soul. At Barcelona, his fingerprints remained on their academy, La Masia, ensuring players like Xavi and Iniesta carried his ideals forward. Though his directorial roles were less trophy-laden, they were no less vital—Cruyff planted seeds that still bloom in both clubs’ identities. To me, his ability to shape Ajax and Barcelona across decades, making them breathe his vision, is the essence of his genius.
Cruyff’s international career was similarly revolutionary, both for the player, philosophy and the Dutch national footballing identity. His legacy with the national team is a love letter to the sport I cherish.
Cruyff burst onto the Netherlands squad in 1966 as a 19-year-old prodigy. Guided by Rinus Michels, he became the heart of Total Football, a system where players flowed between roles, overwhelming opponents with relentless creativity. Over 48 caps from 1966 to 1977, he scored 33 goals, but the 1974 World Cup was his masterpiece. Leading the Dutch to the final, he unveiled the iconic ‘Cruyff Turn’—a flick of genius that left markers stranded—and crafted a campaign so mesmerising it lingers in memory, despite defeat to West Germany. Watching those moments, I feel the pitch come alive through Cruyff’s vision. He transformed a nation with little prior football pedigree into an all-conquering juggernaut.
Cruyff in his iconic number 14 shirt for The Netherlands.
Photo Credit: Imago
One of Cruyff’s innovations was his mastery of space; he’d vanish into gaps, then reappear with a pass that carved teams open. The ‘Cruyff Turn’ wasn’t just a trick—it became a tactical move, creating room where none seemed possible. He was the best of the best.
At Barcelona he sculpted a 3-4-3 system, with a diamond midfield, to choke opponents with possession and high pressing—ideas now woven into football’s fabric. His love for passing triangles turned players like Laudrup and Bakero into cogs of a relentless machine, every exchange a trap for defenders. Cruyff’s tactics demanded players think as sharply as they kicked, making simplicity a weapon. I can’t help but marvel at how his teams moved like a single mind.
Johan Cruyff is one of football’s purest visionaries. A few years back, I witnessed a moment that sealed his greatness in my heart: Diego Maradona, another titan of the game, walked past Cruyff in the stands, and they embraced—a fleeting gesture that burned itself into my mind. Two sacred football figures, recognising each other’s genius. I’ll carry that vision for as long as I love this sport.
Football is simple: score more, and you win. But while there are many ways to achieve that, can we see more teams embrace a passing style?
I’m not asking for the return of tiki-taka or the obsessive passing that seems to haunt Pep Guardiola. Just leave the "park the bus" mentality behind. Come on, give it a go—play the game with intent. The ball is round for a reason; it’s meant to be passed with ease. Johan Cruyff helped our sport grow beyond measure, so the least we can do is honor his legacy by playing positively. That might mean different things to different people, and that’s fine.
I grew up mesmerized by Bergkamp and Henry, Cantona’s flair, James Rodríguez and Falcao, Hagi and every Romanian international, Zidane’s elegance, Maradona’s magic, Deco pulling strings for my FC Porto, Frank de Boer commanding from the back, Redondo orchestrating in midfield, and so many others. Unknowingly, they me fall in love with this game. Goals win matches, but passing wins my heart. Always has, always will.
Cruyff during his time at Ajax.
Photo Credit: Rex Features