The Argentine Football Ideals Behind What Tata Martino Is Building in Atlanta
- Jason Longshore
- 24 minutes ago
- 8 min read
Tata Martino adapts to the talent on his roster, but he does it through conviction. That is why Matías Manna’s view of Argentine football identity is such a useful way to understand what Atlanta United is trying to become.
Football is global, but it is not uniform.
That can get flattened in modern tactical conversation, where every good team is measured against the same few reference points and every successful idea is treated like it should travel unchanged from one league, one country, or one football culture to the next. Too often, the Premier League or the broader European game becomes the default setting for how football is supposed to look.
But football has never really worked that way.
Why Matías Manna matters
That is why Matías Manna is such a useful voice in this moment. Manna is not just another Argentine observer with a strong opinion about style. He came up as one of the earliest online tactical thinkers through Paradigma Guardiola, the blog that tracked Pep Guardiola’s football ideas before Guardiola had fully become the global reference point he is now, and he now works in elite national-team environments as an analyst within Argentina’s national team setup. When he talks about tactics, he does so with one foot in theory and the other in practice.
"Everyone has moved towards positional play, and now the defenses have found the keys. We'll have to try playing with some changes. The game has become very repetitive, standardized, and homogeneous . We've all gone in the same direction. Having your own identity, style of play, culture, and respecting your territory makes a difference, and Argentine football can do it."
So when Manna argues that the game is becoming too repetitive, standardized, and homogeneous, and says Argentina must protect its own football identity rather than simply imitate the dominant trends of Europe, it carries weight. His point is not that Argentina should reject modern football. It is that football cultures still matter, and that the game does not have to be coached, interpreted, or valued the same way everywhere. In his telling, La Nuestra is rooted in short passing, creativity, and the relationships between good players, not in surrendering identity to the latest imported model.
That is a very useful way to start understanding Tata Martino in Atlanta.
Because what Martino is building here is not just a shape, and it is not just a possession team. It is a project filtered through a strong football identity.
La Nuestra and the Argentine argument over football identity
To understand that lineage, it helps to start with César Luis Menotti.

Menotti is one of the foundational figures in modern Argentine football thought. He led Argentina to its first World Cup title in 1978, but his importance goes beyond the result. He became one of the clearest advocates for the idea that Argentina should play from its own footballing tradition rather than chase every outside trend. In the long-running Argentine debate over La Nuestra, Menotti became one of the most influential voices arguing that football was not just about winning matches, but about preserving a recognizable identity in how the game was played.
That is an important distinction. La Nuestra was never purely about tactics. It was also a way of talking about Argentine football as something with its own values, its own idiosyncrasy, and its own right to resist whatever model happened to be fashionable elsewhere. It was a football identity more than a rigid playbook.
Tata Martino: adaptive, but never neutral
That nuance matters for Tata Martino.

The wrong way to frame Tata is as a museum piece for La Nuestra, preserving an old Argentine ideal in perfect unchanged form. He is not that. He is an adaptive modern coach. His teams have looked different depending on the players available, the level, the league, and the opponent. The old comparison to Marcelo Bielsa is useful here: Martino came from that broader Newell’s Old Boys, Rosario, and Argentine football ecosystem, but he has long looked more willing to shape the outward form of his teams around the talent he has than to force every squad into the exact same visible structure. Contemporary descriptions of his work at Newell’s, Paraguay, Barcelona, Argentina, Atlanta, and Mexico all support that broader picture of a coach with clear football values and flexible tactical expression.
But that does not mean he is adaptable in a random way.
The better way to understand him is this: Tata adapts to the roster, but he adapts through identity. The players shape the form. His football convictions shape the terms of the adaptation.
What “being the protagonist” really means
That is where the language he uses becomes so important.
Martino has made clear his desire for his Atlanta United to be “the protagonist in every match,” to “take the initiative,” and not become “a passive team that waits to see what the opponent does.” After the win over Philadelphia last week, he said one of the most satisfying things for a coach is when the team trains one way and then plays the same way in the match, pointing to repeated patterns from training showing up in the game itself.
At this week’s media availability, he sharpened the point even further. He said Atlanta has improved not only in buildup, but in its insistence on continuing to play that way without abandoning the idea after the first mistake. He also said the team still must learn when the match requires more control instead of constant running.
That is not empty coach-speak. It is a football worldview.
Martino is not just talking about possession totals. He is talking about authorship. He wants Atlanta to impose itself on matches, to keep believing in buildup after a bad sequence, to use the ball to control rhythm, and to recognize that the game is not always won by making it faster. Sometimes, in his own words, the team has to understand that the match needs control instead of more running.
That is where the overlap with La Nuestra becomes so clear.
If La Nuestra is understood as a broader Argentine belief in football identity, initiative, technique, and refusing to let the outside world dictate what your team should become, then Martino’s constant call for Atlanta to be “the protagonist” sits very naturally inside that tradition. Menotti’s language was built around much the same impulse: not simply to win by any means, but to make your football visible in the match and to trust your own game instead of running behind somebody else’s.
Why Philadelphia mattered
This is also why Manna’s criticism of tactical sameness matters. When he says football has become repetitive and homogeneous, he is arguing against the idea that there is only one credible modern game. He is reminding people that identity, style of play, culture, and territory still matter. That is not a rejection of tactical sophistication. Coming from someone who built part of his reputation studying Guardiola’s ideas in real time, it is almost the opposite. It is a reminder that sophistication without identity can turn into imitation.
Martino’s work in Atlanta makes more sense when viewed through that lens.
Take midfield. Martino keeps returning there, not just as an area of the field but as the place where the team can either establish itself or lose itself. Before Philadelphia, he said what he values in midfield is “the intention to play.” He praised Tristan Muyumba for what he gives the team “in terms of play,” and this week he explained that Tristan gives Atlanta a better outlet through the center while Tomás Jacob offers pace and depth on the right. Earlier, he had contrasted Jacob’s physical and aerial tools with Tristan’s “cleaner, more polished first phase of buildup.”
That is a revealing set of comments because it shows exactly how Martino adapts. He does not just ask, who are the best players? He asks, what does this version of the team need in order to become the protagonist? Where does it get width and depth in the attack? Where does it get central access? Where does it get cleaner buildup? Where does it get control?
The same is true higher up the field. This week he said he keeps returning to the same point he made at the beginning of the season: Atlanta’s three Designated Players are complementary because they do not overlap. What he is seeing now, he said, is a better understanding of what each player needs from the others in order to connect.
That line may be one of the best windows into the entire project.
Martino is not building from a frozen template. He is building from relationships between players. He is trying to create a team in which talent becomes functional through complementarity, where players solve the game together rather than simply taking turns having the ball. That, too, fits Manna’s framing of good players combining and the Argentine emphasis on association rather than merely occupying a diagram.
That 3-1 win over Philadelphia was not proof that Atlanta has arrived. Martino himself pushed against that kind of overreaction. He said one result is not enough and that the team still has to sustain its level longer. But Philadelphia did offer a clearer look at what he is trying to build. Before the game, he argued that Atlanta’s issue had not been a lack of attacking concept so much as poor execution of the final pass. The team, in his view, had reached the right situations but not completed them well enough. After the game, he said what changed was not magic but a reduction in the mistakes that had punished Atlanta previously, and he praised the way training-ground patterns had finally appeared in the match itself.
That is a crucial distinction. Philadelphia was not just a hot finishing night. It was a proof of concept for the idea Martino has been describing.
The through line from 2018 to now
There is local history here too. Atlanta fans saw another version of this in 2018. That team ended the season playing with three center backs, stretched teams with width from the wingbacks, aggressive pressing from the front, and the ability either to attack vertically after regains or recycle the ball when the direct route was not there. It was dynamic and front-footed, but it was not simply chaos. It could speed up and it could settle. It could hurt you in transition and still use possession as a way to shape the game.
That is the real continuity with Tata.

Not one exact formation. Not one exact tempo. Not one untouched historical doctrine. The continuity is in the filter. Tata’s teams are built to take initiative, to connect through midfield, to value buildup, to use width in service of interior relationships, and to make talented players complementary rather than redundant. Coaches’ Voice’s profile of Martino across different jobs shows exactly that: shifting shapes, changing structures, but recurring commitments to central superiority, rotations, inside-channel access, and adaptation to the problem in front of him.
So yes, Martino is adaptive. He always has been. But the adaptation does not begin from tactical neutrality. It begins from belief.
That is why Manna matters so much in this conversation. He gives language to something that can otherwise sound vague in English-language soccer discussion. He reminds us that football is not played the same way everywhere, that culture still shapes tactics, and that identity still matters in how teams choose to solve the game. When Martino talks about Atlanta being “the protagonist,” insisting on buildup after mistakes, finding better central outlets, and learning when to control the match instead of just running through it, he is not only speaking as a modern coach. He is speaking from a distinctly Argentine football education.
That does not mean Atlanta United is trying to become an Argentine team in MLS. It means the principles of what Tata is building here are easier to understand if you stop expecting every good side to look like a generic European reference point.
The roster tells him what is possible.
His identity tells him how to build it.