Grotesque doesn’t even cover it

The other evening I happened across an episode of Dad’s Army, 'Is There Honey For Tea?', in which the Walmington-on-Sea Home Guard rally around Private Godfrey and his sisters Dolly and Cissy when their idyllic Cherry Tree Cottage comes under threat of demolition. The house is a perfect rose-decorated slice of bucolic English perfection which, Sergeant Wilson wistfully remarks is “just what we are fighting for”. Britain was a different place in 1975, when the episode first went out, beset by grey skies, strikes and British Leyland cars, an altogether different era to the somewhat confected view of tradition which, even as the set-up for comedy, that episode of Dad’s Army set out to convey. But it brought home a point. Tradition does count.

The timing of the episode going out was prescient. Tradition is under attack again from the announcement that England’s so-called ‘Big Six’ league clubs - Manchester United, Liverpool, Arsenal, Chelsea, Tottenham Hotspur and Manchester City - are to join a new and exclusive European Super League along with Real Madrid, Barcelona, Atlético Madrid, AC Milan, Internazionale and Juventus (notably, none of the likes of Bayern Munich, Ajax or PSG are involved). It’s been some time coming: the clubs are believed to have been in talks for some time about creating their own rival to the Champions League, but formal confirmation of the consortium has brought the morality of it all into acute focus.

Football supporters, commentators, the domestic leagues and politicians have all, quite rightly, condemned the plan. There have been murmurings of points deductions, international player bans and other sanctions for those clubs who take part. Overall, the move has been roasted, demonstrating the grotesque arrogance of football clubs in failing to understand the ethos of what supporting football is all about, and why fans are prepared to dip into their hard-earned to follow clubs at every level for sometimes perverse and random reasons. 

I make no secret of my patronage of Chelsea, one of the clubs who’ve signed up for this folly. And it’s not out of arriviste glory-hunting, either: I started visiting Stamford Bridge as a child, when the club was near bankrupt, flirting with the old Third Division, and crowds of just 7,000 were turning up to see warhorses like Micky Droy and Ron Harris kick lumps out of opponents. Liverpool were then the dominant English side - even Ipswich were in the ascendancy - and the sort of riches that surround Chelsea today weren’t even dancing on the wildest stages of our imagination. That’s not why went to the Bridge. It was our club, just as whichever berth you call your home club is yours. It is, of course, an added bonus if you have superstars to watch. Even better if your club gets to play the European elite - nothing gets the hackles up quite like watching a load of cynical Spaniards falling over a lot in front of you on a Wednesday evening. But to some extent, this is mere confection, fairy dust sprinkled on the more prosaic form that is the Beautiful Game.

"We have all spoken forever about the importance of the ‘pyramid’ - the dream, the aspiration of clubs developing, they fall, they get promoted,” former  Football Association and Manchester City chairman David Bernstein told Sky News this morning. “Clubs like Manchester City who, 20 years ago, were in the first division and playing Gillingham in a play-off final at Wembley, become what they are now. Leicester City now have punched above their weight. "So I think you are moving all that dream, that aspiration, and I think that's sad and very dangerous."

Football fans have expressed similar sentiment, especially supporters associations of the clubs embroiled in the breakaway. The Chelsea Supporters' Trust branded it “the ultimate betrayal" and a decision made “with no consideration for the loyal supporters, our history, our future or the future of football in this." One Liverpool group accused the club’s US-based owner, Fenway Sports Group, of appropriating a property that is "ours not theirs”, while another said it was withdrawing support to a club “which puts financial greed above integrity of the game.” The Manchester United Supporters Group posted a picture of the Grim Reaper kicking a football on its website, along with a statement opining that the new league “has no sporting merit and would seem to be motivated by greed,” adding that it had been created without any input from the grass roots of the club’s support. "These owners, irrespective of where they come from, seem to think football belongs to them; it doesn't it belongs to us - the supporters - irrespective of which team we support."

I’m not saying that Doncaster Rovers are any closer to playing Real Madrid in the Champions League, but why can’t they aspire to the Premier League and therefore a shot at a top four place? Unlikely that they would, but who is to decree that they can’t, simply because a self-appointed elite has elected to create a closed shop into which only they can play. And for those fans of clubs in this super league - do we really want to play the same 11 teams all the time, including six we meet at least twice a season in our home league? There’s no dodging the fact that competition for the Premier League title and for the Champions League itself is dominated by the same clubs season in, season out, but there’s still enough margin for variety that we can, for example, see West Ham challenging for a Top Four league finish this season, and thus a shot at the European elite next season at the expense of one of the so-called big six.

Tradition, of course, doesn’t even enter the equation. It’s all about cold hard cash. Larceny, actually. The big clubs and their owners have shown their true colours and a patent absence of any understanding of what they’re custodians of. By reducing European club competition to, essentially, an exhibition tournament, they are effectively turning the 12 teams into football’s version of the Harlem Globetrotters. I’m sure we’ll see all the tricks in the book, but it will soon get pretty boring watching them play the Washington Generals every time. European nights haven’t been made by predictability, but by the complete reverse. We still talk now of José Mourinho leading Porto to the Champions League title in 2004, or even further back, Brian Clough doing the same with Nottingham Forest, twice. 

What I bridle with the most is that these clubs believe, to begin with, themselves to be a self-appointed elite. Even thinking about my own club, Chelsea are where they are today thanks to Roman Abramovich's largesse. Do Arsenal or Tottenham have any right to see themselves as elite on their form this season? No, and frankly that statement extends back even further. Elsewhere, neither Liverpool or Manchester United have been exactly polished this term, ditto Barcelona and Real Madrid. The only thing that distinguishes these clubs is the wealth behind them.

What the proprietors have declared, in forming the super league, is their disdain for everyone else, and that frankly is the ugliest aspect of all this. I’m not going to pretend that football is a purely altruistic sport, where hard work and endeavour is the only measure of progress. Because clearly when you’re able to spend £70 million on a single player, whereas other clubs in your same domain struggle to spend that on a squad refresh, you’ve got a performance advantage (even if the litany of expensive flops proves that all that glitters isn’t always gold). Essentially, the breakaway clubs have given a massive ‘up yours’ to the rest of football. They have even doubled down on this by taking pre-emptive “protective steps” to legally prevent football authorities from taking sanctions out against the clubs, with measures talked of including players being banned from playing for their countries, one of the ultimate objectives they strive for.

Let me return to this thing about tradition. It’s a thorny subject. A procession of interviewees today have referred constantly to the role all football clubs, even the big ‘corporate’ behemoths, historically play in their communities, and that the big six are showing this contempt. They will all dispute that, going to great lengths to demonstrate their community programmes, from grass roots support to dispatching their first team to children’s wards at Christmas. But you can’t ignore that even the most historic clubs now looking to join the super league are living a world away from the traditions they come from. 

“He’s more machine than man,” Obi-Wan Kenobe tells Luke Skywalker about his former protege, Anakin in the 'first' Star Wars film. You could say that about the clubs involved in this venture.  “They pretend ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’, the people’s club, the fans’ club,” railed Gary Neville yesterday about Liverpool. And he had this for the club he played for: “Manchester United, 100 years, born out of workers. And they are breaking away into a league without competition, that they can’t be relegated from? It is an absolute disgrace. We have to wrestle back power in this country from the clubs at the top of this league, and that includes my club.” His former manager Sir Alex Ferguson - who remains a director at the club - told Reuters: “Talk of a Super League is a move away from 70 years of European club football.”

You could take a step back, breathe, and conclude that football is in constant flux. That progress should be embraced. Even Private Godfrey concluded that if his cottage had to be destroyed for the war effort, so be it. We can easily descend into romanticism, but I think that risks missing the point. We support the clubs we follow - regardless of their status - because of something else, something intangible. Even we Chelsea fans, contrary to the jibes, are not glory hunters. We’ve endured bad times and frustrations. We even appreciate the good fortune we find ourselves in, to follow extravagantly financed teams staffed by exciting talent. But that doesn’t entitle the custodians of our clubs’ histories to ride roughshod over them and our patronage. 

You could even take the harder view that football has been a divided kingdom for a long time, of an elite and all the rest. In the grand scheme of things, does anything fundamentally change with this super league? Yes, pretty much the same clubs who vie each season for the knockout stages of the Champions League are involved in it, but there’s a fundamental here: there’s no reason why other clubs can’t also be in the mix, working their way up the pyramid. And that’s what we scream and shout for. Not some glorified showcase, a friendly tournament in all but name, and one designed purely to line the pockets of the proprietors, and do nothing for the humble supporter, many of whom will be now questioning where they put their disposable income when it comes to football.

Return of football supporters is a kick in the ballots

© Simon Poulter 2019

It’s here. It’s actually here. The second of December, which means life in England returns to…well, not exactly normal. Since midnight, we’ve been placed into a revised system of tiers to keep us restricted without calling it a new lockdown. Non-essential shops, hairdressers and other businesses can reopen again. Tomorrow I will go for my first swim in four weeks, never really recalling the scientific wisdom of why I wasn’t allowed to go before, given that the local pool perfectly observed social distancing, disinfected the very ground you walked on and, while actually in the pool, engulfed you in wonderfully chlorinated water to keep COVID at bay.

Tonight, too, football will return. Well, I say ‘return’ but it’s never really been away, just the fans, the "12th player", as cliché-prone professionals have a habit of saying. After the initial halt caused by the pandemic, football returned in July - sans fans - and again in September after the briefest of summer breaks, again to empty stadia (albeit for an experiment at Brighton’s Amex Stadium with a friendly against Chelsea). Now, the football that was already back, is 'back', albeit in a limited form as grounds in England’s Tier 2 areas are opened up to up to a maximum of 2,000 supporters each. Grounds in Tier 1 areas will be allowed to host up to 4,000 spectators, which will be a boon to Truro City FC, Cowes Sports Football Club on the Isle of Wight (they play in the Wessex League Premier Division) and whatever professional clubs exist on the Scilly Isles. Not many, I suspect.

For the English Premier League, the return of people other than staff and club mascots is still only very partial. Essentially, the only clubs that can host fans are Arsenal, Brighton, Chelsea, Crystal Palace, Everton, Fulham, Liverpool, Southampton, Tottenham and West Ham. Aston Villa, Burnley, Leeds, Leicester, Manchesters City and United, Newcastle, Sheffield United, West Brom and Wolves will all have to soldier on in deserted grounds, unless the Tier 3 restrictions imposed on their host cities are revised. With the tiering system either enabling or denying all English league and Women’s Super League clubs from opening, it all feels a little piecemeal. There is, also, the argument that those clubs who can now bring fans in, will be at an unfair advantage to those who can not. Plenty of players have spoken throughout this weird period about how the lack of crowds to buzz off impacts their performance, and it was noticeable that when games did resume after the lockdown in empty grounds, the quality of the football was below par.

Picture: Twitter/@CAFofficial

From a financial point of view, allowing 2,000 fans in is hardly going to boost the coffers of clubs whose grounds hold ten or 20 times that number (even if Chelsea - who probably need the money the least - are charging a whopping £75 for balloted tickets in one of their stands). 

For precarious clubs like Charlton Athletic, who will be amongst the first to host fans under the new rules, tonight at The Valley, it could be helpful, but hardly a lifesaver. But, even if it's only 2,000 fans entering a 27,000-seat stadium (and with a large fanbase in Tier 3 Kent, who will not be allowed to travel in to south-east London), I suppose it's foot traffic through the turnstiles of some kind.

While I’d be the first to admit that not going to Stamford Bridge every other weekend for the last nine months has been a price worth paying for my health, the absence of 'live' football has left a gap in my life over the course of a third of last season and a third of this one. The thing is, there’s a difference between 42,000 people at the Bridge, and a number closer to the school assembly attendance of a large comprehensive. Watching games on television is fine - we do it for away games or for cup matches we’d prefer to watch from the comfort of our sofas - but there is no substitute for being in the stadium. It's the rituals and traditions you miss: the pre-match pint, the arguments over spurious offside decisions, and the vehement disagreement with callers to 606 while stuck in traffic on the way home.

For those who do get tickets to see their clubs under the new protocols, the experience will be a lot different to what they’re used to. Each club will impose a code of conduct, based on guidance from the Sports Grounds Safety Authority. Along with requiring fans to wear facemarks when entering and leaving grounds, and while moving around them, some are likely to put even more health and safety requirements in place. Tomorrow night’s Europa League tie between Arsenal and Rapid Vienna at the Emirates will carry a very strict ruling on alcohol (“only available when purchased with a substantial food item and when seated at a table”) and on physical contact: “Avoid hugs, high-fives, handshakes and any close contact with people who are not within your group.” 

Liverpool has already asked supporters to “act responsibly” when “celebrating or engaging in key moments of the match”, reminding supporters that “COVID-19 spreads more easily when people stand, sing and shout”. Anfield, it shouldn’t be forgotten, played host to the alleged 'superspreader' event in March when Liverpool played (and were beaten by) Atlético Madrid in the Champions League, a game played before a capacity crowd that included 3,000 fans who’d travelled from Spain, just as Spain’s own coronavirus rate was going through the roof. On the same day as 54,000 people packed into Anfield, not to mention the pubs and chip shops around the streets bordering on Stanley Park, the World Health Organization classified COVID-19 as a pandemic, expressing “deep concern” for “the alarming levels of spread and severity, and by the alarming levels of inaction.” The day before, Madrid had closed its schools as infection rates in the Spanish capital had gone through the roof.

© Simon Poulter 2019

My last visit to Stamford Bridge was a couple of days before the Liverpool-Atlético fixture, for Chelsea’s home league meeting with Everton. The gaps in our area of the East Stand were noticeable. In fact, the entire row below us was empty. Normally, when the dad and son who sit right in front leave ten minutes before the end you suddenly become aware of the cold wind. This time, we had it for the full 90 minutes. For those regulars who were there, there was awkwardness, as no one knew whether to shake hands (as is the custom) or bump elbows. No one, though, knew what was about to come, either.

For those lucky enough to win a balloted ticket under the new routine, the experience is certainly going to be odd. Tickets will be for carefully designated areas, the social distancing we’ve all grown used to over the last nine months will be applied, and fans will also have to adjust to sitting somewhere different. OK, minor inconveniences for the sake of getting to see live football again. But will people really respect the “respiratory etiquette”, as Ken Scott, head of inspectorate at the SGSA, described it to The Times yesterday? Shouting and singing would not be prohibited, he said, but it was important for fans to respect the people sitting around them. “I feel confident, however, that we will see supporters demonstrate that they can be trusted and surprise the doubting Thomases,” he said. We shall see. 

Take your seats please, you're here by royal appointment

© Simon Poulter 2018

I may have mentioned on this blog once or twice that I lived abroad for 17 years, and in that time I managed to maintain a season ticket at Stamford Bridge, albeit an arrangement which meant that Chelsea home games were restricted to weekend fixtures and the occasional bank holiday. In fact, over the course of those 17 years I chalked up just a single midweek match - a crucial fixture with Tottenham (well, usually, they are) that my boss at the time - who also happened to be a Chelsea season ticket holder - and I contrived we had to be at. Somehow “an urgent meeting in London” was convened.

Returning to London, I’ve been reacquainted with the rituals of the midweek fixture: leaving the office at just the right time, sans briefcase; shoving the Evening Standard into the exterior pocket of a coat; making do with a poor quality burger and a pint of Guinness for an evening meal; and at the actual stadium, adopting a wry smile at the site of young herberts wearing their best workplace suits and ties, instead of the yobwear they’d normally be in on a Saturday afternoon.

Most midweek games I’ve attended since being back in the UK have been for sundry cup ties, plus the occasional league game, but the visit by Atlético Madrid in the Champions League in December (I had to miss the October home time with Roma) whet the appetite for a brand new experience: European football. This may sound naive, given that, save for last season, Chelsea have played in Europe consistently over the last decade or so. But when I moved abroad in 1999 Chelsea had yet to commence the Abramovich-funded ascendancy that put them into the so-called European elite. 19 years ago, though, things were certainly on the up: FA Cup victory in 1997 and the arrival of European superstars like Ruud Gullitt, Gianfranco Zola and Gianluca Vialli were some indication of improvements, which is why I’d taken the plunge and bought a season ticket to begin with. But apart from a breathless foray into the Cup Winners' Cup (and a memorable away trip to Bruges) the idea of Chelsea playing the true royalty of Europe seemed beyond reality. The idea of Chelsea actually winning something seemed even more remote.

In my lifetime Chelsea had only won one major European title, the Cup Winners' Cup in 1971 (beating Real Madrid), before a period of financial instability and near bankruptcy in the late 70s and 80s, pinballing around the old First and Second Divisions. It’s why, when away fans sing "Where were you when you were shit?!" at Stamford Bridge, I always reply, "Here." The Cup Winners' Cup victory in 1998 - in which Zola came off the bench to score against VfB Stuttgart - still felt like an aberration. The Premier League victory in 2004 - 50 years since the club’s previous league title - felt overdue. Arrogant as it sounds, we've not looked back, domestically. But the European adventure has - and still - feels like something different.

The ‘Cup with the big ears’ has always had a special appeal. When Chelsea qualified for the Champions League for the first time in 1999, progressing to the quarter-finals to meet Barcelona (beating them 3–1 at Stamford Bridge only to be demolished 5-1 two weeks later) the notion of Chelsea playing the European elite was still somewhat unreal. It was only four years later, with the arrival of Roman Abramovich’s roubles, that it started to feel like the new normal. Over the first decade of Abramovich’s patronage, Chelsea were consistent qualifiers, even coming close to winning the thing. Who can forget the heartache of John Terry’s penalty slip against Manchester United in the Final held in Moscow’s Luzhniki Stadium in 2008. And the next season they were back, going as far as the semi-final where they met Barcelona again, drawing 0-0 in the first leg at Camp Nou, and then controversially conceding an equaliser at Stamford Bridge in the 94th minute of the second leg. Barça figured again in the unlikely run-in to Chelsea winning the Champions League in 2012, with another nervy semi-final in which, in the second leg, John Terry was sent off and the much-maligned Fernando Torres scored in injury time in the Catalan capital. By that stage, Chelsea were unbeaten in their previous four matches at Camp Nou, having drawn all of them, and Lionel Messi had failed to score against Chelsea in eight matches, the most games he had played against a single opponent without a goal - a record that still stands.

Which, then, brings me to tonight’s Round Of 16 first leg encounter at Stamford Bridge. Chelsea haven’t had a bad record against Barça, and some of it has been more overshadowed by refereeing controversy than football. But, like handling wild animals, nothing but the utmost respect must be applied. Not for nothing is Luis Valverde’s side where they are in La Liga, with - ominously - Messi on 27 goals in all competitions this season, 20 of which in the Spanish league where Barça currently have a seven-point league. Chelsea, on the other hand are…well…”recovering” from a disastrous January beset by defeats, injuries, suspensions and a manager in open conflict with his board over squad depth and the lack of transfer window signings. Psychologically, Conte has correctly played the underdog card ahead of tonight for his team - what else can you do against this opposition? - but there is still a concern that against a powerful and resurgent Barcelona, Chelsea’s noted defensive weaknesses and profligacy in front of goal will hurt them, regardless of how stable they are again after a well-earned break and something of a return to form.

Whatever the outcome (and I know I’m steeling myself for disappointment here), tonight’s experience will be like little else in football. To be seeing FC Barcelona in the flesh will be something to revere. I just hope it won’t be something to regret.