It took a quarter of a century. The Premier League had gone from an almost exclusively British affair to a cultural melting pot, a place where players and managers from across the footballing world congregated and combined. But it was not until its 25th year that anyone won the league playing with a back three.
It is an indication of what a revolutionary Antonio Conte has proved. When the season starts on Friday, the Premier League may look like Serie A: not in the pace of the game, but in the formations.
The back three, largely unfashionable apart from a spell in the 1990s when Roy Evans' Liverpool and Brian Little's Aston Villa championed it, was used by 18 clubs last season. Even Arsene Wenger, a devotee of the back four, has become a late convert. Even Jose Mourinho has experimented with it. And they had been more English than the English in their preference for a defensive quartet.
For the first half of its existence, the Premier League's dominant formation was the traditionally British 4-4-2. Arguably the division's greatest side, Manchester United's 1999 Treble winners, just played it better than everyone else, albeit with split strikers.
Wenger brought the first injection of Total Football principles to the system, players such as Thierry Henry, Dennis Bergkamp, Robert Pires and Freddie Ljungberg exchanging positions within the shape. Arsenal had a striker who did not always lead the line, a genuine No. 10 and inverted wide midfielders, rather than wingers.
Mourinho also brought a sea change in thinking when he first arrived in 2004. He removed a striker for an extra midfielder, helped by Frank Lampard's ability to outscore most forwards, prioritising the control a specialist anchorman gave him and preferring 4-3-3.
The cautious, counter-attacking approach he and Rafa Benitez introduced was copied. Alex Ferguson also started to field a third central midfielder, valuing possession, particularly in Europe.
Wenger abandoned 4-4-2 when Patrick Vieira left and Cesc Fabregas emerged. English football became less fast and furious. Its teams acquired more nous, which was reflected in its golden age in the Champions League in the 2000s.
Its lesser lights had a similarly pragmatic blueprint, courtesy of Sam Allardyce. He fielded a solitary striker, concentrated on clean sheets and set-pieces and kept teams up.
Players evolved to suit the new systems. The default ploy became 4-2-3-1. The specialist predator became an endangered species, along with the impotent target man; forwards needed to be a hybrid. Attacking midfielders, inverted wingers and No. 10s began to flourish.
The 2010s brought a drop in standards, an increase in goals and a clash of competing ideas. The emphasis on defence declined. Three teams scored a century of goals; a policy of all-out attack mixed with extreme tactical experimenting almost won Brendan Rodgers' Liverpool the title, even if it was a formula few could copy.
After two throwback champions, Mourinho's Chelsea resembling the side of a decade earlier and Leicester's 4-4-2 addicts caring little for possession and offering reminders of the 1980s, came a new era. Perhaps Conte has won the battle of ideas, but in one respect Mauricio Pochettino and Jurgen Klopp have taken English football back to its roots, with gegenpressing a new term for high-tempo football.
In another, the degree of tactical flexibility is new and perhaps will be more prevalent in the future. Pep Guardiola, always liable to change shape, could be a pioneer while Klopp has something both familiar and alien, using a false nine and little width in attack. But history tends to be written by the winners, so for now, Conte seems the most influential innovative import.
