THREE years ago, while researching my book, The Italian Job, I had lunch in a Turin restaurant with Marcello Lippi.

He told me how he was experimenting with a new tactical formation: 3-2-3-2. He whipped out a pen and furiously scribbled away, outlining not only how the players would line up on the pitch, but also how they would move, defensively and offensively. His new system was supposed to mask the weaknesses of some players, while exploiting their strengths. When he was finished, the scrap of paper was a jumble of scribbles and arrows.

The episode comes to mind as I think of Lippi and what makes him a special manager. At the time, he was already one of the most successful coaches in the world, a guy who had reached the Champions League final four times and won six Serie A titles. Yet there he was, questioning himself and his methods, trying to devise new ways of getting an edge, all with the enthusiasm and energy of a youngster.

The fact that his 3-2-3-2 system did not yield results (he used it only a few times before going back to the drawingboard) is irrelevant. What matters that, despite his fame and success, he was so ready to try something new.

With all this in mind, we probably should not have been surprised that, in the semi-final against Germany, he made the bold move of playing the last 20 minutes of extra time with four strikers — Vincenzo Iaquinta, Francesco Totti, Alberto Gilardino and Alessandro Del Piero.

Some saw it as a departure from the Italian tradition of defensive play, the catenaccio, that had served us so well. In fact, it has nothing to do with the philosophical choice of attacking rather than being attacked. Rather, it is all about pragmatism and strategy. The basic tenets followed by Lippi are not that different from those outlined by The Art of War, Sun Tzu’s ancient text, which has become a staple not just on the battlefield but in the boardroom, too.

To me, this highly strategic approach is the true hallmark of the Italian game, rather than the catenaccio for which we are so often blamed. The reason we have adopted defensive counter-attacking ways in the past is partly a function of our fear of failure and its repercussions (and the reasons for this are probably historical and cultural), but mostly a result of the fact that, simply put, a safety-first approach yielded results. And results have always been of paramount importance, both to Italians and to Sun Tzu.

So why did Lippi go for the cavalier approach in the last 20 minutes? First, Italy were solid defensively, which allowed the Azzurri to take more chances up front. Second, Iaquinta and Del Piero boast a phenomenal workrate to go with their attacking instincts.

But the third and final reason is the most telling and, probably, the one Sun Tzu would approve of the most. Both teams were evidently tired by that point in the game and, when two teams are exhausted, they tend to get stretched. The strikers do not track back as much, the defenders sit deeper. All of a sudden, big chunks of open space appear in the middle of the pitch. Space is one of the most precious commodities in football and those best-placed to exploit it are attacking players.

That is why it is wrong to describe Lippi’s choice as a gamble or a philosophical decision. It was simply the decision of an intelligent man, with a clear and rational strategic vision behind it.

Italy and France have taken starkly different paths to the final. Les Bleus have knocked out Spain, Brazil and Portugal, three of the best teams in the world, while the Azzurri have faced Australia, Ukraine and Germany. With all due respect to those opponents, I think we can say that — in addition to guts, determination and quality — we have also had a dose of good fortune, although it is true that France put themselves in that situation by not winning their group.

Tomorrow will be Zinédine Zidane’s final competitive match and it is difficult to say something new about him. However, I think the Zidane we are seeing now is different from the one of the past, assuming more of an overt leadership position than before.

In the past he was quiet, a guy who led by example, performing his magic on the pitch. The leadership roles were filled by others: Laurent Blanc, Didier Deschamps and Marcel Desailly with France, Ciro Ferrara at Juventus, Raúl and Fernando Hierro at Real Madrid. Now, however, he is the hub of this team.

No one can invest you with the title of “leader”. It is something you gain on the pitch. Perhaps for the first time in his career, Zidane is not only a leader by example, he is a leader of men.