Long Throws 1, Football 2: How many Premier League tactics will be seen at this World Cup?

It was beautiful, in some ways, maybe, to a few people.

Vladimir Coufal wiped the ball against his shirt and launched it flat and fast; a stinging trajectory more commonly shaped by a frisbee than the undulating arc of a long throw.

Czech captain Ladislav Krejci met it sweetly and at full sprint. His header was past South Korea’s Kim Seung-gyu before he even flinched.

There were few Czech fans in the stadium, their team having qualified at late notice via the play-offs in March — but back home (local time in Prague: just after 5.00am), watching their first World Cup appearance in 20 years, supporters surely witnessed an artist’s brush.

But to the masses, Czech Republic’s surprise opener against the run of play, was a goal that only its mother would love — and that mother is the Premier League.

Throughout the 2025-26 season, the world’s strongest, most watched, and most powerful domestic league was criticised for its product, on trial for generating matches dominated by set-pieces, physicality, and gamesmanship, and typified, perhaps unfairly, by Mikel Arteta’s champions Arsenal.

So while this World Cup might promise escapism, the reality is slightly different — from this tournament’s politics, to its finances, to, potentially, the games on its pitches.

The Premier League’s influence lived on in the Czechs’ approach, a team intent on forcing an arm-wrestle from Lukas Provod’s barge in the match’s very opening minute.

Their goal, after sitting back and absorbing South Korea’s pressure, was almost a satire of how the Premier League looked last season — former West Ham stalwart Coufal linking up with Wolves’ starting centre-back to power a header home. The goal was their first shot on target, in the 55th minute of the evening.

That it came from a long throw, the most-derided of all the set-pieces, principally due to its links with the supposed ‘anti-football’ played by Tony Pulis’ Stoke City teams at the end of the 2000s, only underscored that notion. There was even a brief check by VAR.

Should Tomas Soucek’s second-half header from a free-kick have stood, a player inseparable from the Premier League’s uber-physical style of play (it was rightfully ruled out for offside), the organisers might as well have tied Barclays ribbons to the World Cup trophy.

In a nutshell, the Czechs knew they did not have the quality to outplay a technically-excellent South Korea side containing a little stardust in PSG’s Lee Kang-in and LAFC’s Son Heung-min. Instead, they optimised their chances to win by attempting to close down the game, reduce risk, and back the quality of their set-pieces. Of course, that is a legitimate tactic which worked for them as they reached this World Cup, progressing through the UEFA playoffs after successive penalty shootout wins. But that does not mean observers have to like it.

Arguably, the Czech Republic are one of the most egregious practitioners of this style — this simply is, and has been for a few years, the way that they play. But there is a logic to their approach — that, when outgunned on an ability level, it is better to go to ground, keep it tight, and hope for a set-piece miracle, than ping it around everywhere and lose 4-0.

Within the condensed nature of international camps, and for teams lacking game-changing forwards, it is easier to teach good defensive football quickly than good attacking football — it will be interesting to see how many teams mimic the Czech Republic, who in turn were only unleashing their inner Premier League.

And of course, and with only a touch of dramatic framing, that is partly what was at stake in just the second game of the tournament. Had the Czech Republic held on, their victory would have set a note for the tournament; a clarion call to pragmatists everywhere. Sound a horn and they will come, with their cost-benefit analyses, their little books of corner routines, their distaste for grace and form.

There have been World Cups like this. The 1990 tournament in Italy stands out, a tournament now remembered for tension and Luciano Pavarotti, but at the time, was viewed as a month dominated by defences, penalties, and set-pieces with a record low 2.21 goals per game.

But as it was, South Korea showed there was another way, that pragmatism alone will not always carry the day. Hwang In-beom’s 67th minute equaliser was a beautiful effort — the No 6 rotating with Lee Kang-in to find space in a pocket near the Czech box. He took just two touches: the first chopped the ball back to send defender Robin Hranac flying, the second looping the ball over stranded keeper Matej Kovar, his chip defying gravity, and the sprinting recovery of Krejci, to nestle in the bottom corner.

The 25-pass build-up which led to it was the fifth-longest passing sequence leading to a World Cup goal since 1966.

South Korea were good value for that goal, particularly from Hwang, the game’s outstanding player, a dynamo who played passes forward through the Czech Republic’s lines at will. With 10 minutes remaining, it was his cross that found Oh Hyeon-Gyu for the eventual winner.

Oh’s finish? A toe-poke goalwards, a ricochet? It was beautiful, in some ways, maybe, to a few people. But at least it was from open play.