Jérôme Champagne has come out swinging in these final days of the FIFA Presidency campaign, claiming that spending pledges tabled by UEFA general secretary Gianni Infantino are “very dangerous”.
Manchester United exec Ed Woodward sees the newly-acquisitive Chinese Super League (CSL) as “another useful market if we are looking to sell players”. And the recent £20 million-plus deal that took Ramires to Jiangsu Suning, to the considerable benefit of Chelsea’s bottom-line, surely demonstrates that he is right.
Even the slickest, best choreographed media events – and I have attended few slicker than this week’s descent on Wembley by FIFA Presidential candidate Gianni Infantino and his footballing legends – have revealing moments.
‘Oh shut up, silly woman,’ said the reptile with a grin
‘You knew damn well I was a snake before you took me in.’
From The Snake by Al Wilson
My social media threads at the start of this week were full of the sarcastic indignation that is part of the medium’s stock-in-trade.
United States attorney general Loretta Lynch may change FIFA, but old school football politics is likely to prove an altogether tougher dragon to slay.
By many yardsticks, 2015 must go down as a pretty rotten year for sport. The crises at FIFA and the International Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF) have put doping and governance issues squarely at the top of the movement’s agenda, highlighting how it has struggled to cope with the full consequences of the financial windfall which the digital media era has delivered.
As if FIFA didn’t have enough problems at present, the recently-published television audience report for last year’s World Cup in Brazil gives rise to the question, ‘Has the governing body’s flagship tournament plateaued out as a global TV phenomenon?’
For years we have speculated about when China will host a World Cup. In 2030 maybe? Or 2034? Perhaps even 2026 in the (unlikely) event that the United States (or A.N.Other) somehow wrests the endlessly controversial 2022 competition away from Qatar.
Working your way through the 240-page “superseding indictment” unveiled on Thursday by United States Attorney General Loretta Lynch by way of a powerful aftershock to the earthquake that laid waste to the FIFA Congress in May, it would be all too easy to form the view that we should disband FIFA and start all over again with governance of the world’s most popular sport.
When Stockport County went on tour to China in 2001, it seemed symptomatic of a breezy optimism that the People’s Republic’s new-found enthusiasm for football might somehow make international brands of even comparatively small European clubs.
I can’t be the only European football follower of a certain age who last week, when the Brussels suburb of Molenbeek hit the news for the reasons we all know about, thought that the name of the place rang a vague bell.
As regular readers may know, I am sceptical about sport’s ability to bring doping by top-level athletes under anything resembling control. Equally, the spectre of a complete pharmaceutical free-for-all is, in some respects, so disturbing that I would concede we need to be certain we have exhausted all avenues before we all, to borrow a phrase used last week by Independent Commission chair Richard Pound, “go home”.
We may be heading towards a tipping-point in the globalisation of football. Actually, that is not quite exact: we may be heading towards a tipping-point in the Europeanisation of world football culture. What I have in mind is the point when the big European leagues – Premier League, Bundesliga, La Liga, Serie A – start to earn more from international rights to broadcast their matches than domestic rights.
It is doubtless not the smartest move to begin a column you hope one or two people might actually read in the style of an IQ test or a maths exam. Just this once, however, I am going to chance it.
One word dominated this year’s Sportel event in Monte Carlo. That word was China. The explanation for this can be encapsulated in one word as well. That word is money.