Olympiacos 0-1 OFI Crete: La Hormiga Gonzalez and the paradox of a No.9 scoring in the Cup but silent in the Super League

In the 63rd minute at Karaiskakis, the stadium fell so quiet you could hear the OFI Crete goalkeeper punch the ball. Armando "La Hormiga" Gonzalez had just received a through-ball inside the box, turned past a centre-back, and shot with his left foot. The ball went straight at the keeper — and was saved. It was the second clear chance the Mexican striker had squandered in this match. Three minutes later, Kenan Kodro headed home for Olympiacos' opponents. Four minutes after that, Gonzalez was taken off.

That night, Olympiacos lost 0-1 at home to OFI Crete. A result that, if you only look at the scoreline, would lead you to blame the defence. But look closer, and the problem lay at the other end of the pitch.

Football is a game of chess with pawns that can run. And at Karaiskakis, Olympiacos played a game in which they controlled most of the board but could not move their pawn into the final square.

Context: A No.9 carrying two faces

Armando Gonzalez arrived at Olympiacos as one of the most anticipated signings of the season. The nickname "La Hormiga" — "the ant" — evokes the image of a small but tireless striker who always turns up in the right place at the right time. In the Cup, he has scored three goals. In the Greek Super League, after four matchdays, that number remains zero.

This contrast is no small matter. For a club like Olympiacos — the most decorated side in Greek football history with dozens of league titles — every domestic goal is worth many times more than a Cup goal. The Cup is a trophy, but the Super League is identity. And that identity is now being questioned.

OFI Crete are not a peer opponent. This is a club from the island of Crete, with a budget only a fraction of Olympiacos'. In recent head-to-head history, Olympiacos have regularly beaten OFI at home. Losing 0-1 is not just dropping three points — it is a signal of a systemic problem.

What is notable is that the way Gonzalez scores in the Cup and the way he goes quiet in the Super League are not technically parallel. In the Cup, he usually receives the ball in positions where he already has a spatial advantage, facing loosely organised defences. In the Super League, opponents study him more carefully. Mid-table sides like OFI Crete no longer play naive football — they build a dense low block and are happy to let Gonzalez receive the ball in harmless positions.

That is why I always tell my readers: tracking data does not tell you who is right — it tells you who shows up at the right moment. Gonzalez shows up. But he shows up at moments that do not decide matches.

Tactical analysis: Olympiacos create chances, but not the right chances for their No.9

Watching this match on tape, I counted that Olympiacos created enough chances to score at least once. In the first half, Gonzalez headed over the bar from a left-wing cross. In the 63rd minute, he had a second clear chance but was denied by the keeper. Otherwise, the home side's dangerous moments came mostly from lofted crosses into the box — a repetitive attacking pattern that the OFI Crete back line gradually read.

This is the crux of my analysis: the problem does not lie entirely with Gonzalez, but with the way Olympiacos create chances for him. If a No.9 only receives the ball in sub-optimal situations — high balls, curled balls, balls under tight marking — his conversion rate will be systematically low, no matter who he is.

I checked this pattern against several similar domestic matches Olympiacos have played in recent seasons. When this team faces low blocks, their successful through-balls drop noticeably, and the share of crosses rises. That is the sign of an attack running out of ideas for breaking lines — and once the ball has to go the long way, the responsibility for scoring falls on one individual rather than being distributed across the system.

Gonzalez is not a pure target man. He is a mobile No.9 who needs space and needs the ball in a position he can work in one or two touches. In the Cup, that space appears because opponents cannot sustain their marking. In the Super League, that space disappears. The result is the same player, the same feet, but two entirely different numbers.

Gonzalez's withdrawal in the 67th minute — one minute after OFI Crete scored — is also a telling tactical signal. The Olympiacos coaching staff clearly had a pre-planned substitution for going behind, and that plan put Roman Yaremchuk, a more physically imposing striker, on to attack crosses. But Yaremchuk also missed a late chance. That means the problem was not solved by a single substitution — it sits deeper in how the team builds its attack.

I ask myself: if Olympiacos keep struggling against low blocks in the Super League, why do they not build a different attacking option — for instance, combinations in the half-spaces, cut-backs from the second line, or situations that open space for an advanced midfielder? The absence of those options is a sign that match preparation lacks flexibility.

Contrarian angle: Perhaps the pressure to score is creating a "bad" striker

This is where I want to go against the crowd.

When the Greek media start counting Gonzalez's domestic goals, an invisible pressure is built around him. Every match becomes a public examination. Every missed chance becomes evidence for a verdict that is being written in advance. In that context, a striker does not play with freedom — he plays with fear.

Fear produces rigidity. Rigidity produces immature finishes. Immature finishes produce zeroes. And zeroes reinforce the original story. It is a self-affirming loop.

I have seen this pattern many times with South American strikers newly arrived in Europe. They score in the Cup, where pressure is lower, and go quiet in the league, where every touch is dissected. That contrast does not necessarily reflect a difference in technical ability, but a difference in psychological load.

If scoring in the league is the key test for a South American to be recognised in Europe, then it is no coincidence that many of them only explode once they have had enough time to forget they are being judged.

Takeaway: The next match is a test for a No.9 — or for an entire system?

What I want to watch in the next match is not whether Gonzalez scores. What I want to watch is whether Olympiacos change the way they create chances for him.

If they keep pushing the ball wide and crossing, and Gonzalez keeps standing amid two centre-backs, people will again count zeroes. If they start creating situations where he receives the ball facing goal, and he still does not score, then we have the right to ask questions about the striker.

Football is a game of chess with pawns that can run. But even the best pawn needs an open lane. And at Karaiskakis, that lane was never drawn.