Part I: The Present of Realisation

There is a strange honesty to the way football corrects you.

For months, Chur have lived inside a fairy tale – tactical bravery rewarded, underdog narratives indulged, Super League scalps collected with a mixture of intelligence and audacity. And yet, since Christmas, reality has crept in quietly, persistently, and without malice. Two wins in thirteen. One emphatic 5-0 dismantling of Sion. One defiant, glorious 3–1 against Luzern. Everything else? A slow erosion.

From third place to seventh, Chur’s league position now reads somewhere closer to where they were expected to finish this season by those inside the club, yet still many places above where those outside of it had predicted. Whilst is may look like it, they are not collapsing – far from it – but they are stalling. The season now splits, not to rearrange the table, but to expose it. Five games. Four hundred and fifty minutes. A final audit of ideas. This does not decide the placings – Chur will go with a seventh placed finish in their debut season but, whilst we know Inaki will be conducting this analysis behind the scenes, we, at Calanda, wanted to dig into what exactly didn’t go to plan as well.

Tactically, the most glaring fracture has been geographical. Away from home, Chur remain recognisable: patient, disruptive, comfortable living between lines, capable of pulling opponents apart with controlled chaos. At home – where they made a scene of a narrower, longer pitch to suit them and a cry to get the entirety of Graubünden on their side, the picture dulls. Just 1.06 points per game. Barely over a goal scored per match. Thirteen shots per ninety yielding little conviction. The numbers don’t scream crisis but they whisper discomfort.

To be expected, Chur press better at home. Their OPPDA drops. The crowd lifts them into aggression. But pressure without incision is a blunt instrument. The tighter pitch, once framed as a strategic quirk, has become an amplifier of another absence: a reference point in the box. Since the departure of their former talisman, Chur have lived by distribution rather than domination. Iker Huerte has reached double figures, but beyond him goals scatter rather than arrive. No home scorer has seized the moment. No single presence bends games toward inevitability. Just like old times – every single attacking midfielder has underperformed their xG and and their xA – leaving, on record, Chur the third best side in the division, yet the league table does not back that up.

Inaki Arriola’s Chur are still brave. They still carry the ball – although not to the extent of previous years, they still manipulate space but football at this level demands repetition, ruthlessness, and – occasionally – a little selfishness. These final five are about re-assuring the home faithful that there is more to come, about reminding the stands at Obere Au why this team felt intoxicating in the first place.

Free-flowing football, yes. 

But free-flowing with intent. With teeth.

Part II: The Future of Hope

If Part I is about reality setting in, Part II is about the long game. I sat down with Chur assistant manager Ivan Madrano to discuss the club’s latest youth intake – and the clarity with which Chur now view their future. Madrano is new to this process, having only joined in the summer, but I could read his passion from the moment we sat down. He’s not – obviously – prepared to give everything away to the local media, nor should he, but he’s an honest man and lives for this kind of work.

Sara Lemm: Ivan, the facilities have improved, the pathways are clearer. How satisfied are you with this intake?

Ivan Madrano: Very. Genuinely very. I’ve worked in academies where the rhetoric was strong but the infrastructure lagged behind. Here, it’s finally aligning. When you upgrade training environments, when you professionalise youth staff, the results don’t come instantly – but when they do, they’re unmistakable. This group reflects that.

SL: You speak a lot internally about “pathways”. What does that mean in practice at Chur?

IM: It means honesty. If a player has a future here, we show him exactly how. If he doesn’t, we don’t trap him. For years, clubs have hidden behind loans without purpose. We want targeted loans – specific leagues, managers, systems. We are building lists of who to target, how far away these players are comfortable moving to and what the quality is like at each level and in each league. If a player’s best future is elsewhere, we help him get there without holding sentiment above the future of these young lads. That’s maturity as a club.

SL: Let’s talk profiles. Joao Correia stands out.

IM: Physically, he’s ahead of the curve. But what excites me is his tolerance for duels. Some young centre-backs look dominant until they’re tested emotionally. Joao wants contact. That’s rare. I’ve seen similar profiles at Málaga and Tenerife – the ones who survive always embrace discomfort.

SL: Fernandinho is a very different type. I heard his Dad is Brazilian – not too many of those around these parts?!

IM: Yes – his father came here nearly twenty years ago and owns a shop on the outskirts of the village. Fernandinho was born and bred here but his Brazilian roots show in his flair and technical ability – always got a ball at his feet has the young lad. What surprises people is his ambidexterity. He doesn’t just finish – he adapts. Strikers like that don’t panic when plans change. They feel solutions rather than calculate them.

SL: Ourdy Banza? How does a lad with a Congolese and Serbian citizenship wind up here?

IM: The canton has always welcomed families in, particularly from Balkan states and Africa. This is just another example of that. From our conversations, he’s a lovely lad and a leader waiting for permission. Brave, vocal, relentless. Midfield generals don’t announce themselves early – they accumulate authority. Ourdy has that trajectory.

SL: Ricky Cogdon is a keeper who, in particularly looked strong in the annual candidates game, but, if you don’t mind me saying – looked a little slight?

IM: So was one I worked with at Castellón – he ended up starting in LaLiga 2. Size is overrated if your base mechanics are elite. Ricky sees shots early. That’s a gift.

SL: Not all assessments are glowing. Mikael Dovat looked a little out of place?

IM: Technically raw, physically light. But footballers are not static. He may not survive in his current role – that doesn’t mean he won’t survive somewhere else. Our job is to explore that honestly and develop him the best that we can do. He’s strong enough to have made it this far – we’re not running this on a ‘bring your kids to the park for a try-out’ level any more, this is canton wide. You can’t just write him off like that!

SL: Nikola Babovic – yet another forward?

IM: Connector. Goals matter, but connectors elevate others. I love players who make teammates better quietly. We’ve got a plethora of different options now – big, small, technical, agile; these are all key to what we’re trying to achieve with the fluidity across the front line.

SL: And Damjan Culibrk?

IM: Physically excellent. Mentally inconsistent. Determination can be coached – entitlement cannot. We’re patient, but not indulgent.

SL: Several academy players have already moved on. Talk to me about how that process goes and what it means for the club?

IM: That’s success. Sedoum, Andreas, Parpan – they’re playing senior football. Development doesn’t mean keeping everyone. It means preparing them. We need to acknowledge that not every player will meet the demands of the particular style that we’re trying to instil here, but, also, we’re not blind to a generational talent and will do what we can. It’s an individualised process that we, as a club and a staff, are slowly getting our head around. The first team play a big part in this – mentoring, supporting, bringing these players closer to the alignment of personalities already at Chur. We just feed them the best and most developed players within our work.