Juan Brignardello Vela
Juan Brignardello Vela, asesor de seguros, se especializa en brindar asesoramiento y gestión comercial en el ámbito de seguros y reclamaciones por siniestros para destacadas empresas en el mercado peruano e internacional.
In the heat of a thrilling match, Cole Palmer's second penalty against Tottenham Hotspur exemplified the art and science behind the elusive Panenka technique. A penalty in football is often seen as a straightforward opportunity to score, yet Palmer’s execution transformed it into a masterclass of psychological warfare and skillful deception. The Panenka, made famous by Czech player Antonin Panenka in the 1976 European Championship final, requires the utmost composure. Instead of blasting the ball into a corner, the player delicately chips it down the center, relying on the expectation that the goalkeeper will dive in the wrong direction. When the attempt is successful, it is a display of genius; when it fails, it can lead to ridicule. Palmer, however, elevated the technique to a new level, making his Panenka look effortless and calculated. On the day of the match, Palmer had already scored from the penalty spot, a low shot to the bottom left corner that left Tottenham’s goalkeeper, Fraser Forster, grasping at air. This initial success added a psychological layer to the second penalty, as the keeper would likely anticipate a similar approach. Palmer, however, maintained the same body position and demeanor as he stepped up for his second attempt, creating yet another moment of doubt for Forster. The subtle nuances of Palmer's run-up played a crucial role in the execution of the Panenka. With a longer, faster approach, he ensured that Forster was locked into a decision before the ball was even struck. The key moment came when Palmer glanced towards the bottom-right corner, a classic tactic referred to as "giving the keeper the eyes," which added to the illusion that he would target that area, only to gently chip the ball over a diving Forster into the net. Palmer himself reflected on his thought process in the aftermath, noting that the frantic nature of the game influenced his decision to attempt the Panenka. "If I chipped it, it would go in," he said confidently, embodying the calmness that defines his play. What's remarkable is that this wasn’t a one-off for Palmer. He has previously employed the same technique, showcasing an ability to remain unfazed by the pressure and expectations surrounding such a high-stakes moment. The execution of the Panenka is as much about technique as it is about timing. Palmer's chip was measured perfectly: it needed to travel with just the right pace, slow enough to be graceful but quick enough to evade the goalkeeper's grasp. The ball, gliding at approximately 14.3 miles per hour, took its time in crossing the penalty box, creating a moment of suspense that left fans and players alike holding their breath. Forster, meanwhile, faced the harsh reality of being on the receiving end of a perfectly executed Panenka. As he realized too late that he had been outsmarted, his predicament mirrored that of many goalkeepers who have encountered similar scenarios. The emotional journey from hope to despair occurred almost instantaneously, a testament to Palmer’s skill in mentally outmaneuvering his opponent. Critics of the Panenka often argue it serves to humiliate the goalkeeper, a perspective that overlooks the artistry involved. When executed with precision, like Palmer’s attempt, it transforms a mere penalty into a moment of footballing beauty. Palmer's confident approach not only delighted Chelsea supporters but also reinforced why the Panenka, when performed correctly, deserves admiration rather than scorn. As Palmer himself summed it up succinctly, "Who doesn't like a Panenka?" In a sport where moments of brilliance are celebrated, his audacious penalty against Tottenham will be remembered as a prime example of skill meeting audacity, a reminder of why we are captivated by football at its finest.