Picture this.

Pub. Pint in hand, your mate turns to you and asks, “What makes football exciting?”

You stop and think for a moment.

A bicycle kick? A 30-yard screamer? A late winner? Maybe it’s making that winger who’d been chirping away all game finally eat grass.

Chances are, most answers would revolve around the spectacular. The moments that end up on Instagram the morning after, immortalised in football folklore.

How ironic it is then that football’s greatest trick rarely makes the highlight reel.

Long before the nutmeg is threaded or the disguised ball is played, a defender has made a decision. Every shift of the hips, slight glance of the eyes and angle of the body becomes information, subtle cues used to predict the following course of action. The art of defending, at its core, is an exercise in anticipation.

The best of the best rarely react. Rather, they’re playing chess, already a step ahead.

Few players exploit this game more effectively than Michael Olise.

Deception being the key word, Football has a habit of making us think that deception begins with the step-over.

However, sports science begs to differ. Published in 2024, sports scientists Ryan Raffam, David Mann and Geert Savelsbergh’s ‘Expertise and Deceptive Movements in Sport’ concludes that deception is often less about the spectacular than it is about controlling the information an opponent receives, whether through false cues ( fake shots, dummies etc.) or delaying decisions until the last possible moment.

What does this tell us?

Elite football isn’t simply about execution. It’s about controlling perception.

Through this lens, Michael Olise begins to make a great deal of sense.

While there is certainly an early 2000’s flair to his game, it doesn’t seem to look to entertain. Rather, it feels instinctive, constantly adapting to the defender in front of him. While most forwards predetermine their next action, Olise has the composure to wait, reading his opponent’s positioning, balance and momentum before exploiting whichever option presents itself. Ultimately, this unpredictability is what makes his rhythm so difficult to follow. One moment he effortlessly glides across the pitch, inviting pressure. The next, a sharp drop of the shoulder, followed by a burst of pace to leave his marker chasing shadows. The skill itself is certainly something to marvel at. However, the deception itself lies in the timing.

Operating predominantly from the right, Olise consistently baits full-backs high and wide, towards the touch line in order to leave them stranded by a sharp shimmy onto his stronger left foot. Yet what separates him from those with his natural flair is his final objective. Beating his man is not the final goal, it is simply the means to another end. Every carry seeks to progress the attack, disrupt defensive structure or create a passing lane that moments earlier did not exist. Focusing on deception, his dribbling is not only a reflection of his personality, but a means to manipulate the information available to his marker.

His patience is an attribute that particularly stands out.

Pedri and Kevin De Bruyne are great reflections of modern football, where speed of thought is consistently rewarded. As respected as the above may be, there are moments where the better decision is not necessarily the quicker one.

Olise’s game reflects a natural understanding of this. Rather than revealing his hand, he keeps his cards close to his chest until the defender feels pressured enough to reveal theirs. Once this gives way, a side-step opens up passing lanes, a drive into the box or a shot on goal, where the decision has effectively been made for him.

While central to his game in the modern age, football has long had a name for this. Speaking to The Athletic, Pep Guardiola’s inspiration and tactical mentor, Juanma Lili described la pausa. It is “the moment when you hold the ball, waiting for the opponent to make a move, and then you exploit the space they leave behind.” While it is a concept most commonly associated with collective build-up play, Olise applies it in isolation, patiently waiting for the picture to fully reveal itself before acting.

Having coached Olise during France’s 2024 Olympic campaign, Thierry Henry offered perhaps the most revealing insight of all. Speaking on CBS Sports, he argued that Olise “sees things that few others can. He perceives the game differently, he sees it more with his brain than his eyes. You have to anticipate what’s coming next.”

It’s an observation that perfectly encapsulates Olise’s game, where the dribble merely confirms what the bluff has already decided.

So the next time you’re at your local and someone asks you what makes football exciting, you’ll probably still say a bicycle kick or late winner.

But perhaps you’ll also consider the deception that came before it.