In case you missed it,England’s cricket team won a test match again at the weekend with considerable style, grit and teamwork. Beating India on home turf to go 2-1 up in the series with one to play is no mean feat indeed based on history. Added to this the captain, Alastair Cook, chalked off a couple of new personal milestones becoming the holder of the most number of test centuries ever scored by an Englishman and also the youngest man ever, at twenty-seven, to get to 7,000 test runs. The legendary greats he now shares the record books with would make any man proud but Cook continues to lead the England team with a quiet and developing authority. We have a national team to be proud of at the moment.
The reason you may not have heard too much about these incredible feats is that the Ugly Game – where we do not have any semblance of national pride – once again dominated the headlines. This time the events at the Manchester derby, that twice-annual love-in between the cash laden Arabs and the debt laden Yankees played out by a scattering of mercenaries resembling the United Nations, reminded us all how ugly the game of football has become. However, what followed the now well documented pelting with coins of the ex-England captain, Rio Ferdinand, resulting in a lucky escape with only a gashed eyebrow, was arguably more sickening than the idiocy from the perpetrators.
Given these times of austerity and the price of tickets to watch the Arabian Mercenaries, you would have thought that the average Mancunian would be a touch more careful with his cash. Throwing money away, especially in the direction of Ferdinand given his take home pay, looks a little generous to say the least but hitting him flush on the bonce, probably after several pints of Carling, must have been more “luck” than Olympian standard marksmanship. Of course, it was a ridiculous thing to do and, a few millimetres either way, and Ferdinand could easily have lost an eye. What price a game of football?
And yet the outpouring from the “hierarchy” of this sick industry either could not see the real issue or simply chose to close eyes and ears to it. On they came with Sir Alex unable to resist stirring up similar events at rivals Chelsea a few weeks ago, not content with the three points from the day’s proceedings and subtly scoring a few more. Pundit after pundit wailed about how wrong it was and how they should clearly hang the perpetrator from the goalposts solving all football’s ills in one go. Public floggings at the Etihad…home sweet home for the Sheikh; and yet worse was to follow.
The Chairman of the Professional Footballers’ Association (PFA), Gordon Taylor – incredibly paid seven times more than the Prime Minister – once again made one gasp at his insularity. Defender of his men to the last he deplored the events and then suggested a cure-all as being giant netting, presumably collapsible if the crowd really does get out of control? This man is laughable at his consistently woeful defence of equally over-paid players, desperate not to de-rail the great gravy train by saying anything that approaches common sense. If a salary of £1m a year can only produce the solution of a giant hair net it may suggest the man is a little out of touch? Surely it is right to expect a little gravitas for the money?
Let me offer a few observations if I may. Firstly, most football fans are normal, likeable people but even the usually sane and sensible can get whipped into a frenzy when part of a partisan, baying mob, especially when they sense injustice to their team. Secondly, a minority of football fans should be in secure confinement and not just on match days, being a clear danger to society. Thirdly, the football arena has progressed little from the amphitheatres of Roman times and the crowds still bay for blood, if generally that of the referee these days rather than the gladiators.
What all these highly paid protectors of the ugly game were not willing to concede was that celebrating a winning goal in front of the opposing fans at any ground from Bradford Park Avenue to the Etihad Stadium is hardly likely to attract bouquets of flowers from the opposing fans. Nor are the same fans likely to stand up and applaud whilst shouting “jolly well played!” Lame brain Rio and his mates, were they capable of rationale thought, should have wheeled on their heels and celebrated in front of their own fans rather than gesticulating at the wrong end. Being slightly pedantic, perhaps lining up ready to ensure the opposition could not reply quickly might have been the professional response?
The game is so bereft of strong leadership from the very top, largely because they are all deluded by its invincibility in the Sky funded era, that each year it gets ever more corrupt, seedy and ultimately unwatchable. Players behave like spoilt primary school children and managers continue to “hear all, see all and say now’t” especially where it concerns their own players. It may be that most managers cannot remonstrate effectively with their players as few are fluent in the variety of languages needed these days in the Premier League. There are exceptions – the admirable David Moyes at Everton for one, who I would imagine just glares at the offender – but these are few and far between.
Empires built on bloated greed all eventually crash to Earth. It may appear that twenty years of Sky money has created something invincible but nothing is ever so. And apart from the legacy of obscene salaries, megalomaniac owners and admittedly fabulous stadia what is the true legacy of the great Premier League? A third rate national side struggling to get to the next World Cup in the face of opposition from the mighty Montenegro. Even if we do scrape in via the back door to the party you can guarantee an early exit, lots of hand-wringing, promises of another inquiry and back to the real loot via the “Premier” League. Truly an industry which has lost its soul.
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