Let’s revisit the European Super League idea

Remember about three years ago, when several (or more) of the top clubs in Europe thought that they should leave their respective leagues and just play against each other instead?

That idea included six clubs from England, whose bosses thought that they were too big for the puny challenges of the domestic arena, and clearly needed something bigger and better.

And more lucrative.

But the project fell apart pretty quickly amid acrimony, recriminations and legal action. The six EPL clubs involved apologised, got a baby slap on the wrist, absolutely no-one got banned from the Champions League as threatened by UEFA, there were no points deductions as threatened by the FA, and we went on with life as usual.

As soon as I heard about it, I was immediately against the idea of the ESL. It was clearly formulated by the boards of the teams involved with no thought for the grassroots support of the clubs, and the traditional values and history of football. And while there’s still some rumbling behind the scenes, and the idea does seem to have gone away for the moment, I’m still against it.

But also, I’m actually not.

That idea that the ESL would ruin the tradition and values of football, and that the project was only about making money for “the suits upstairs” rings a bit hollow when you look at where we are now, three years on, because actually it’s happened anyway, just in the domestic league setting instead of a continental one.

The “Super League” ethos and its money already clearly exists within the Premier League.

Liverpool’s three goals last night (the first one gifted by our useless keeper, the second an absolute thunderbeagle after a very helpful clearance, and the third one just showing how squad strength in depth (via – *gasp* – money) is such a huge thing), came at a cost of £190,000,000.

That’s far more than our entire club is worth.
Not just the players on the pitch last night.
Not just the squad.
The entire business – the ground, the staff, the infrastructure, the training academy, the women’s teams, the name, the history, those solar garden gnomes in the gift shop: everything. All of it.
Versus three players.

Erik Ten Haag took charge of Manchester United less than 2 years ago. He’s spent almost twice as much on players in that time than we have in our entire 135 year history.

Arsenal shelled out just under a quarter of a billion pounds on three players this season.

Chelsea: it’s just billions. Billions and billions. A never ending pot of cash that is carefully spent over almost complete decades to avoid breaking the rules… maybe.

“It’s not sport if you can’t lose”, said Pep Guardiola, in his criticism of the ESL idea back in 2021.

That comment was about the limited relegation possibilities for ESL teams, but it’s steeped in irony now, given that his club are facing 115 charges for breaking financial fair play regulations. Charges which they will likely never actually face given that they have more money than the Premier League, can afford some ridiculously expensive legal teams and are already adopting a Stalingrad defence*.

And even if they ever do get punished, it won’t be in any meaningful form, thanks to new regulations conveniently just announced by the EPL.

How can we, or anyone else without money (or ok, yes, any sort of regard for the financial fair play regulations), ever hope to compete?

We can’t. And that’s why the Premier League is broken.

And before anyone points out plucky “little” Aston villa and their amazing league position, well yes, it is great, but even they’ve spent almost half a billion quid over the last 4 years.

The Premier League is clearly hugely divided. There’s absolutely no chance of relegation for the “Big Six”, they buy all the best players, they win all the trophies, and they have pots and pots of money. For them, most games are pretty much a foregone conclusion. The only interesting matches are when they play each other.

And that’s exactly what the ESL was going to give us.

But with added Bayern Munich and Real Madrid.

So actually, why not go and do that and make domestic football better again?

Why are we allowing our domestic game to be ruined by letting these clubs to do exactly what they were trying to do anyway by inventing their runaway league? If that’s the way it’s going to be, let them go.
It’s broken and it’s not going to get any better while they’re still here.

Sadly, of course, that will never happen.
Because of – you guessed it – money.

[sighs deeply – gets on with his day]

Day 108 – Lon-done!

Yesterday evening’s amazing 3-0 win over Chelsea…

Please enjoy the goals again here:

…was our last game against London opposition in the Premier League this season.
It’s been a good haul:

6 points from Palace.
4 points from Spurs.
4 points from Arsenal.
4 points from Chelsea.
4 points from West Ham.

6 wins, 4 draws, 0 defeats.

Lon has been well and truly Done!

Three things

And they’re all about football, so if that sort of thing doesn’t intere… hello? Hello?

Hmm. Well, bugger you. I’m going to write it anyway.

Firstly, well done to Chelsea, who emphatically finished off the Premiership season with a little 8-0 drubbing of hapless Wigan “Athletic”.

Secondly, it’s 25 years since the Bradford Fire – the “forgotten tragedy of the Eighties“. 56 people died at that football match.
I can remember watching it on the news the next morning. I’d have been 11 years old and it would have been a Sunday. I had a habit of going downstairs at about 6am and watching the breakfast kids’ TV (such as it was back then), but the morning TV was dominated with the news of the fire. The pictures were horrific – I can still clearly see the man staggering out of the stand – on fire, but seemingly not even realising it.
It meant more because it was local to us and because there were so many stories of children being killed and injured just because they went to what should have been a celebratory match at the end of their championship winning season.
That top link is worth reading.

Finally, more happy news. We spent the afternoon at the Waterfront, gazing momentarily at the World Cup trophy. That’s my picture of it on the right. It was part of the Coca-Cola sponsored Trophy Tour and, despite the rain, was very well attended.
There was live music, an emotional 3D film of World Cups past (and future) and of course, the actual trophy. It was boxed in perspex, but you could get within a metre of it and no-one tried to steal it (as far as I’m aware).

Which isn’t very South African, now is it?

World Cup Willie

Disambiguation: for World Cup Willie (1966 World Cup Mascot) click here.
Otherwise… read on.

I read today (here, actually) that John Terry, the now disgraced former captain of the England football team, is flying out to Dubai to try and convince his estranged wife, Toni Poole, that their marriage is still worth salvaging.
In case you’ve been under a rock:

Poole, the mother of Terry’s two children, fled to the UAE soon after reports emerged regarding an affair between the Chelsea captain and Vanessa Perroncel, the ex-partner of the 29-year-old’s former club team-mate Wayne Bridge.

The incisive Guardian reporting tells us:

Terry had a serious look on his face as he was escorted to the plane at London’s Heathrow airport shortly after 8.30am, wearing blue jeans and a white hooded top.

I’m not bloody surprised (at the serious look, anyway) (the white hoodie did come as a bit of a shock – I dunno – I thought something in blue, maybe?  A splash of colour. Cheerful. Bright. Make some effort, man.)

Anyway, I hope he’s got flowers and I’m sure he’s got his little speech lined up.
After all, he does “love her to bits”.

How do I know?

Oh – just this little gem I picked out from that exclusive John Terry Interview in the Observer Sport Monthly back in May 2006:

And you’re not married?

No, I’m engaged to my girlfriend Toni Poole, she’s been with me since I was a YTS.

She looks very nice in the photographs.

She is. And she’s good for me. She’s been there from the start. When I was earning £46 a week she was earning £250 a week – she was taking me out to restaurants. It’s nice that she’s there for the right reasons – for me.

And she’s forgiven you your indiscretions?

Indiscretions – you know, I’ve never cheated on her or anything like that. I never would. I can look you in the eye and tell you that. There’s been stories out there that I’ve cheated on her but I certainly haven’t – I love her to bits.

There was an interview in the News of the World where I’d seen a reporter out and I’d apparently admitted it all to Toni. I never admitted anything to Toni because I’ve never done anything. With me saying I’m a loyal person, that goes with my girlfriend as well as with Chelsea.

But you must have been sorely tempted?

Yeah, there’s occasions. I’ve obviously explained to Toni that we get opportunities, we get approached and I’ve probably been in situations that she doesn’t approve of. Maybe. But it certainly wouldn’t be the case where I’d take it any further.

Certainly not, John. After all, you “love her to bits” and you’re “a loyal person”.
You can look me in the eye and tell me that (but you’ll still be lying).

If he’s done it once, he’ll do it again (see Woods, Tiger).
My advice is to dump him, Toni – but only after the World Cup.
While he might have been covering the hole that Wayne Bridge had left at the back (sorry), he’s still a damn fine defender and part of the backbone that will win the World Cup for England a bit later this year. (Albeit that we need a decent coccyx.)

As long as he’s not in a state of abject depression.
So please just lie back and think of England (literally), until July 12th.

Thanks.

Snails, Cheese and Wine. And Rain. And Footy.

It’s been a wet weekend. Very wet.
Latest figures from Kirstenbosch suggest that they weren’t really expecting rain at this time of year and forgot to put the rainfall gauge out. But if they had have done, it would have been full. And that’s a lot of water.
I would look it up on the SA Weather Service site, but since it got “upgraded” it’s worse than useless.

Aside from a trip to the supermarket, we stayed in. As you would have done as well.
Mrs 6000 and her chums were due to take some horses out through the vineyards in the spring sunshine, but after the spring sunshine failed to pierce the thick grey clouds above and all around us, apparently even the horses were moaning about it being cold and wet (98% relative humidity 13.8°C at 3pm), and thus a semi-impromptu cheese and wine party took the places of the ruiterkuns. Which was nice.
Especially since we didn’t invite the horses.

The wet weekend flickr set.

Snails, cheese, wine and bathing the kids gave me limited opportunity to watch Chelsea and Man U, but I did get to see the goal and yes, it was a foul; no, Drogba wasn’t offside and no, he wasn’t interfering with play anyway. And yes, actually I am a qualified referee, so **** you.
I’m sure Fergie and the Man U fans won’t be happy, but to be perfectly honest, who really gives a toss about what they think? Deep down inside they’ll be happy to have something to moan about, anyway.  

And so it’s onward and upward (the stairs, to bed), with a week full of grey, wet weather to look forward to. Happy days.