Inter’s strengths and Achilles’ heel under Chivu as they prepare for Atalanta

Inter will be facing Atalanta on December 28, and Richard Hall examines where the Benamata have improved and where they still have to work ahead of the next big match.

In the shadow of the Madonnina, change rarely whispers; it usually roars. For three seasons, Simone Inzaghi was the conductor of a sleek, rhythmic orchestra at San Siro, one that prioritised the beauty of the transition and the almost telepathic understanding of a veteran core.

But as we sit in the cold light of December 2025, the Nerazzurri are dancing to a different, perhaps more frantic, beat under Cristian Chivu.

The transition from Inzaghi to the Romanian has been less of a revolution and more of a recalibration, but the gears are grinding in ways we didn’t quite expect.

Inzaghi’s Inter was a masterclass in controlled chaos. His 3-5-2 was a safety blanket for the fans—a system where the wing-backs, Federico Dimarco and Denzel Dumfries, weren’t just outlets but primary architects. It was “Inzaghiball”: deep-lying playmaking, inviting pressure, and then slicing through teams like a hot knife through butter.

Chivu, stepping up from the Primavera (after a stint at Parma) with the weight of his own treble-winning history on his shoulders, has kept the 3-5-2 skeleton but has replaced the organs. Where Inzaghi was pragmatic, Chivu is daring—arguably to a fault.

The most jarring difference is the defensive line. Inzaghi was content to let the veteran trio drop deep, trusting their positioning to snuff out danger. Chivu has pushed the line ten yards further up the pitch. He wants a “vertical” Inter, one that suffocates the opposition in their own third.

Under Chivu, Inter are pressing with a ferocity we haven’t seen since the early Conte days. The addition of Petar Sučić in the engine room has facilitated this; the youngster offers a “bite” that the ageing legs of Mkhitaryan sometimes lacked.

This high line has turned Yann Sommer (and occasionally Josep Martínez) into a de facto sweeper. When it works, it’s a blue-and-black swarm. When it fails—as we saw in the bruising defeats to Udinese and Juventus earlier this term—it leaves the centre-backs exposed in 1-on-1 foot races they simply cannot win.

The biggest “plus” of the Chivu era is the integration of youth. While Inzaghi was often criticised for his “Old Guard” loyalty, Chivu has been “coraggioso”, brave.

The emergence of Francesco Pio Esposito and the arrival of Ange-Yoan Bonny have added a physical, unpredictable dimension to the attack. They don’t just link play; they disrupt.

Interestingly, Lautaro Martínez seems to have found a second wind. While he was the focal point under Inzaghi, he now operates with more freedom. With Sučić and Barella pushing higher to win the ball, Lautaro is receiving it closer to the goal rather than dropping into the centre circle to help build play.

However, the Nerazzurri in me worry about the soul of this team’s defence. The stats don’t lie: Inter are conceding more goals per game than at any point during Inzaghi’s tenure.

The structure of the team while they are in possession is currently Chivu’s Achilles’ heel. By committing so many bodies forward, particularly the wing-backs and Alessandro Bastoni (who Chivu allows to roam even further than Inzaghi did), Inter are incredibly susceptible to the counter-attack. The defeat against Milan in the Derby was a prime example; a single misplaced pass in the final third led to a vertical sprint that left the Inter defence looking like statues.

Is Chivu the right man? He is certainly the “Inter” man. He understands the club’s DNA, and his willingness to bench established stars for the sake of tactical discipline is a breath of fresh air. He has made Inter more exciting, but significantly less stable.

Inzaghi gave us trophies and a sense of “inevitability.” Chivu is giving us a rollercoaster. As we head into the winter break, the Nerazzurri sit within touching distance of the top, but the defensive fragility suggests that if they don’t find a balance between Chivu’s high-pressing ideals and Inzaghi’s structural discipline, the Scudetto might remain a dream.

The romantic in me loves the bravery; the critic in me fears the space behind the back three. San Siro awaits the second half of this experiment with bated breath.