fuzz
Active Member
You can buy trophies, Roman, but you’ll never buy respect", written by the Sports Columnist of the year, Patrick Collins. Thought it was brilliant.
The match had been over for a minute of two when Roman Abramovich walked across the pitch to congratulate his players. The Barcelona fans saw him and greeted him with a bellow of abuse. It was perhaps the most significant moment of a remarkable occasion. For one thing, the Catalans actually recognised him. A couple of years ago, when he was just a run-of-the-mill multi-billionaire, they might have passed him in the street. But now he owned a football club and they could spot him through the murk of a March evening.
And for another thing, having recognised him, they reacted with anger. It wasn’t simply that their own team had been beaten by a patently illegitimate goal. Nor even that some of their players had been manhandled by Chelsea stewards. No, it was the fact that they deplore what Abramovich represents; the grotesque fortune, the crassly conspicuous consumption, the army of docile lackeys. Above all, they despise the way in which he has used his money to buy the game they love. And, in truth, they have a fair point. For the current celebration of Abramovich’s Chelsea is rapidly becoming the most alarming development in modern football.
Already, Chelsea have bought the Carling Cup, they are purchasing the premiership and soon they may complete the acquisition of the Champions League. The cost has been so indecently high; indeed, Abramovich has so far paid out almost £300 million for the right to parade across Stamford Bridge.
With that kind of money, he is not gambling of success, he is virtually ensuring it. He has bought the best players and hired a perfectly competent manager to orchestrate their efforts. Despite Jose Mourinho’s tiresome pretensions, it is not the most demanding of assignments, since the funds are blissfully unlimited.
If you really wanted to understand the effects of such finance on a football club, you only had to look at Chelsea’s substitutions against Barcelona. They were strung across the bench like a tycoon’s trinkets. Glen Johnson (£6M) and Tiago (£10M) were, eventually, employed but Scott Parker (£10M), Geremi (£6.9M) and Alexi Smertin (£4.25M) merely sat and stared.
Lavishly paid yet incredibly under-used, a young man like Parker will never become the player he should have been. Some of these players were bought simply to deny their talents to others. Such is the unprecedented power of new money. And we have not mentioned the loan rangers – Hernan Crespo, the striker whose goal put out Manchester United last week, was bought by Chelsea for £16.8 million and is at present temping with AC Milan, while Juan Sebastian Veron (£15M, 14 Chelsea games) is currently residing in Inter.
Now, to you and I, all that seems like a definition of financial madness. But to an oligarch, it is the merest frippery. Abramovich has his oil, aluminium, automobile and television interests, which derive from the fortuitous associations with Boris Yeltsin, the renowned drunk and former President of Russia. Such preposterous wealth sabotages the very notion of competition.
Last Monday evening, Manchester City played Bolton Wanderers at the City of Manchester Stadium. They are two of the oldest clubs and the crowd they attracted, 43,050, was more than Chelsea have been able to cram in to the Bridge this season. And do you know what chance either has of winning the Premiership next season, or at any time in the next decade? None whatsoever. Likewise, clubs of a similar scale, such as Everton, Middlesbrough, Villa and Sp**s.
While it is just conceivable that Arsenal, Manchester United and even Liverpool may raise a challenge, the rest are non-runners so long as Abramovich controls the game by the weight of his wallet. We do not know his motives for expending so much money and energy upon Chelsea. What we do know is that his financial power has bred arrogance at the club he controls. Mourinho is behaving with the maturity of a toddler, taking his first steps: “Wow! Everyone’s looking at me! I must be wonderful!” fines are being imposed from all directions and are being paid with the air of a Rothschild settling a taxi fare.
Sure, some of the clubs already mentioned have traditionally out-spent their rivals but at least their money was created from football success and not from the indulgence of a bibulous politician. In any case, they are little more than paupers when set alongside the modern Chelsea.
I believe this situation is deeply damaging. I believe that the beauty of sport lies in its unpredictability, its competitiveness, its relative equality. These are not optional extras; these are the essentials without which it cannot function.
Football could always have its head turned by money but, when that money is flaunted by a multi-billionaire, the head revolves like a roulette wheel until all sense of justice is abandoned.
This is not how sport was meant to be. It ought to be better than that. Which is why, when confronted with the spectre of Roman Abramovich, there is only one place for the lovers of football. And that is shoulder to shoulder with the fans of Barcelona.
The match had been over for a minute of two when Roman Abramovich walked across the pitch to congratulate his players. The Barcelona fans saw him and greeted him with a bellow of abuse. It was perhaps the most significant moment of a remarkable occasion. For one thing, the Catalans actually recognised him. A couple of years ago, when he was just a run-of-the-mill multi-billionaire, they might have passed him in the street. But now he owned a football club and they could spot him through the murk of a March evening.
And for another thing, having recognised him, they reacted with anger. It wasn’t simply that their own team had been beaten by a patently illegitimate goal. Nor even that some of their players had been manhandled by Chelsea stewards. No, it was the fact that they deplore what Abramovich represents; the grotesque fortune, the crassly conspicuous consumption, the army of docile lackeys. Above all, they despise the way in which he has used his money to buy the game they love. And, in truth, they have a fair point. For the current celebration of Abramovich’s Chelsea is rapidly becoming the most alarming development in modern football.
Already, Chelsea have bought the Carling Cup, they are purchasing the premiership and soon they may complete the acquisition of the Champions League. The cost has been so indecently high; indeed, Abramovich has so far paid out almost £300 million for the right to parade across Stamford Bridge.
With that kind of money, he is not gambling of success, he is virtually ensuring it. He has bought the best players and hired a perfectly competent manager to orchestrate their efforts. Despite Jose Mourinho’s tiresome pretensions, it is not the most demanding of assignments, since the funds are blissfully unlimited.
If you really wanted to understand the effects of such finance on a football club, you only had to look at Chelsea’s substitutions against Barcelona. They were strung across the bench like a tycoon’s trinkets. Glen Johnson (£6M) and Tiago (£10M) were, eventually, employed but Scott Parker (£10M), Geremi (£6.9M) and Alexi Smertin (£4.25M) merely sat and stared.
Lavishly paid yet incredibly under-used, a young man like Parker will never become the player he should have been. Some of these players were bought simply to deny their talents to others. Such is the unprecedented power of new money. And we have not mentioned the loan rangers – Hernan Crespo, the striker whose goal put out Manchester United last week, was bought by Chelsea for £16.8 million and is at present temping with AC Milan, while Juan Sebastian Veron (£15M, 14 Chelsea games) is currently residing in Inter.
Now, to you and I, all that seems like a definition of financial madness. But to an oligarch, it is the merest frippery. Abramovich has his oil, aluminium, automobile and television interests, which derive from the fortuitous associations with Boris Yeltsin, the renowned drunk and former President of Russia. Such preposterous wealth sabotages the very notion of competition.
Last Monday evening, Manchester City played Bolton Wanderers at the City of Manchester Stadium. They are two of the oldest clubs and the crowd they attracted, 43,050, was more than Chelsea have been able to cram in to the Bridge this season. And do you know what chance either has of winning the Premiership next season, or at any time in the next decade? None whatsoever. Likewise, clubs of a similar scale, such as Everton, Middlesbrough, Villa and Sp**s.
While it is just conceivable that Arsenal, Manchester United and even Liverpool may raise a challenge, the rest are non-runners so long as Abramovich controls the game by the weight of his wallet. We do not know his motives for expending so much money and energy upon Chelsea. What we do know is that his financial power has bred arrogance at the club he controls. Mourinho is behaving with the maturity of a toddler, taking his first steps: “Wow! Everyone’s looking at me! I must be wonderful!” fines are being imposed from all directions and are being paid with the air of a Rothschild settling a taxi fare.
Sure, some of the clubs already mentioned have traditionally out-spent their rivals but at least their money was created from football success and not from the indulgence of a bibulous politician. In any case, they are little more than paupers when set alongside the modern Chelsea.
I believe this situation is deeply damaging. I believe that the beauty of sport lies in its unpredictability, its competitiveness, its relative equality. These are not optional extras; these are the essentials without which it cannot function.
Football could always have its head turned by money but, when that money is flaunted by a multi-billionaire, the head revolves like a roulette wheel until all sense of justice is abandoned.
This is not how sport was meant to be. It ought to be better than that. Which is why, when confronted with the spectre of Roman Abramovich, there is only one place for the lovers of football. And that is shoulder to shoulder with the fans of Barcelona.
