The rabona is a practical tool for wide players, not a mere trick

Key takeaways

• A rabona lets a player strike the ball with their stronger foot from a position where that foot would normally be the wrong one.
• Even when it is not completed, the crossed-leg shape of a rabona can change what a defender reads from a player's hips and standing foot.
• In Champions League matches, wide areas tend to be crowded, so any technique that saves a touch is worth more than it looks.
• The strongest objection is that the outside of the boot or a trained weaker foot often does the same job more reliably.

The argument: a flourish that answers a structural problem

ESPN reports that Lamine Yamal described the dribble that led to Anthony Gordon's goal as an "almost-rabona", in a Champions League match that Barcelona won 4-1 against Galatasaray. Beyond that description, the publication's summary gives no detailed account of the move, and this article does not try to reconstruct it. The phrase itself is worth looking at, because it treats the rabona as a reference point for describing a real action on the pitch rather than as a novelty.

A rabona is a kick in which the striking leg wraps behind the standing leg to make contact with the ball. It usually gets discussed as showmanship, something for highlight reels and testimonial matches. This article argues the opposite. At elite level the rabona, and the family of near-rabona actions around it, persists because it answers a specific geometric problem that wide players face all the time. The flair is a side effect. The function is the reason it survives.

The problem is this. Many modern wingers play on the side of the pitch opposite their stronger foot, so that they can cut inside towards goal. That arrangement is good for shooting and for passes into the middle. It is awkward whenever the player needs to deliver the ball along the outside, towards the byline or across the face of goal from a wide angle. In that situation the stronger foot is on the wrong side of the body. The player has three options: shift the ball across with an extra touch, use the weaker foot, or find a way to strike with the stronger foot from where the ball already is. The rabona is one answer to that third option.

Evidence one: the extra touch is the real cost

The case for the rabona starts with time. In a wide area, a defender showing the attacker down the line is usually trying to force exactly that extra touch. Each touch gives the defender a moment to close the gap, block the angle or bring in a covering teammate. When a player whose stronger foot is the inside one wants to deliver from the outside, the standard move is to drag the ball back across the body. That costs a touch, and a defender can see it coming.

A rabona removes the need to move the ball. The stronger foot comes to the ball by crossing behind the standing leg. The cost of the extra touch is swapped for a more complicated body movement. Whether that trade is worth it depends on the situation, but the logic is sound. The technique saves a fraction of time in exactly the area of the pitch where defenders are trying to take time away.

This also explains why the rabona keeps turning up among players who rely heavily on one foot. A two-footed player rarely needs it, because the weaker foot is already a reasonable option. The more lopsided a player's technique, the more valuable an action that lets the dominant foot reach balls it otherwise could not. In that sense the rabona is less a sign of indulgence than an adaptation to a constraint.

Evidence two: the "almost" is part of the point

Yamal's word "almost" matters. A full rabona means following through with the crossed-leg strike. An almost-rabona suggests the shape was there but the action was not fully completed, or was turned into something else. That fits a second, less obvious function of the technique: disguise.

Defenders in one-against-one situations read cues. The angle of the hips, where the standing foot is planted and the swing of the striking leg all tell a defender which way the ball is likely to go and when. A crossed-leg action scrambles those cues. The body appears to be set up for one thing while the foot is in position for another. A defender who reacts to the familiar shape of a cross, or of a cut inside, may commit too early or freeze for an instant.

This means the threat of a rabona has value even when the rabona never happens. If a defender has to respect the possibility, the attacker can use the start of the movement as a feint and then play differently. This article does not know exactly what happened in this particular dribble; the source does not describe it. Still, the vocabulary the player chose fits this reading. "Almost" suggests that the shape of the technique did useful work without being carried through to the end.

Evidence three: elite competition rewards marginal gains in tight spaces

The third piece of evidence is the setting. The Champions League brings together teams with well-drilled defensive structures. Under the current league-phase format, clubs meet a wider range of opponents than under the old group system, including sides whose main aim against stronger teams is to stay compact and deny space in and around the penalty area. In those matches, wide areas are often where an attacking side finds what room there is, and that room closes quickly.

In that environment, techniques that look marginal in isolation become meaningful. A movement that saves a touch, or briefly confuses a defender's reading of the play, can be the difference between a cross that gets through and one that is blocked. The top level of the club game does not reward flair for its own sake. Over a season it tends to reward whatever reliably breaks defensive structures. That a recognisable variant of the rabona can be used, and named, within a competitive Champions League match suggests the technique has found a working role rather than surviving only as decoration.

The reverse is also worth noting. Where a technique carries no competitive benefit, the pressure of elite matches tends to squeeze it out, because coaches and players are judged on outcomes. Techniques that persist under that pressure have usually earned their place.

The strongest case against: reliability usually beats ingenuity

The opposing argument deserves a fair hearing, and it is substantial.

First, the rabona is mechanically compromised. Crossing the striking leg behind the standing leg limits the backswing, reduces the power available and makes accurate contact harder. A conventional strike with either foot, or a delivery with the outside of the boot, gives the player a more stable base. If the aim is simply to get the ball from a wide position into a dangerous area, there are usually more dependable ways to do it.

Second, the outside-of-the-boot pass, often called the trivela, solves much of the same problem. It lets a player deliver with the stronger foot from an awkward angle without the balance risks of crossing the legs. A coach looking at the problem might reasonably conclude that the trivela makes the rabona largely unnecessary.

Third, there is a development argument. The deeper fix for a one-footed winger is to improve the weaker foot. On this view, reaching for a rabona is a workaround that hides a technical gap rather than closing it. A player who can deliver competently with both feet does not need either the rabona or the extra touch.

Fourth, there is selection bias in how the technique is remembered. Successful rabonas are memorable and widely shared. Failed ones, where the ball goes out of play or straight to a defender, fade quickly. Judging the technique by the examples that get noticed overstates how effective it is. One assist in one match, however well described, cannot show that the technique works on balance.

Finally, Yamal's own word cuts both ways. If the move was only "almost" a rabona, one could argue that the full technique was not needed. What worked was a feint or a different kind of contact, and the rabona served mainly as a convenient label afterwards.

What would change the conclusion

Several kinds of evidence could settle the question either way.

The most direct would be systematic outcome data. If event and tracking data showed that rabona and near-rabona deliveries from wide areas lead to chances less often than conventional alternatives from comparable positions, the functional case would weaken considerably. Such a comparison would need to control for the defender's position and the game state, and this article has no such data. Data showing the opposite would strengthen the argument.

A second kind of evidence would concern when the technique is used. If rabonas appear mostly when a match is already settled and the risk is low, that would support the view that they are expressive rather than functional. If they appear just as readily in close, high-pressure moments, that would suggest players and coaches trust them as genuine tools.

A third would come from coaching practice. If academies and first-team staff at elite clubs actively teach rabona-type deliveries as a response to the stronger-foot problem, that would indicate the technique is valued for what it does. If they discourage it in favour of developing the weaker foot or the outside-of-the-boot pass, the case against would gain weight.

Lastly, player testimony beyond a single post-match remark would help. Explanations from wide players of why they choose the technique, and in which situations, would show whether the "almost" in this case is typical: a shape used to deceive more than a strike completed.

Sources and further reading

• ESPN, report on Barcelona's Champions League win over Galatasaray and the player's description of the assist.
• UEFA, official regulations and explanatory material on the Champions League league-phase format.
• Coaching manuals from national football associations covering crossing technique and one-against-one defending.
• Academic sports-science literature on kicking biomechanics and defenders' anticipation of opponents' movements.