Was that the prolonged, high-pitched cry of a generalerama electionus we heard the other day, an extremely rare sound bellowed by well-coiffed animals, found almost exclusively in the south east, and audible only once every four or five years?
Experts believe it was, for once the beast tires of its natural habitat, where it surrounds itself with bright lights and television interviewers, it heads back, salmon-like, towards a notional birthplace. Here it mixes for several months with thousands of possible mates, often referred to as ‘the electorate’ in the hope of cultivating short-term friendships before ultimately returning back to the south east for another four years.
Even a cursory understanding of the Machiavellian-style machinations of bodies such as FIFA or the IOC should remind us to beware career politicians showing a previously well-disguised interest in sport.
So what prompted politicians of both main parties to suddenly present themselves as chest-beating saviours of the humble football supporter? The nation doesn’t have the money or inclination to bid to host the European Championship finals and, as England’s only remaining friend on the international stage is the USA and there’s no chance of us ever being awarded another World Cup, it can only mean that a forthcoming general election is on the horizon, an opportunity for the political class to display their populist credentials. In what appears to be a knee-jerk reaction to Labour’s plans, unveiled last week, to undertake “the biggest legislative shake-up in the governance of English and Welsh football clubs since the advent of the game”, on Tuesday, Sports Minister Helen Grant popped up at Fratton Park to present a similar idea which the government no doubt hopes will appeal to the football supporting constituency.
The minister launched what she called a new football “experts group”. This was not a collection of people capable of winning your average Sunday night pub quiz, but an assortment of government representatives, supporter groups and football authorities whose brief is to: a) explore ways in which fans can be given more of a voice in the running of their club and b) remove barriers to supporters owning football clubs.
A statement issued by Ms Grant’s department provided only the sketchiest of additional information and details of how these laudable aims might be implemented. “Areas that the group will look at,” it read, “include seeing what more can be done to help supporters groups have stronger links with the executives and owners running clubs (and to) look at removing barriers to clubs becoming community-owned assets, when opportunities arise for that to be a sustainable and viable option.”
If the statement was designed to apply pressure on Premier League clubs to embrace supporter groups and invite fans to become board members, it could hardly be described as a rousing success. Indeed, the prospect of Roman Abramovich, Sheikh Mansour and other less savoury characters, happily sharing the boardroom’s chocolate digestives with a couple of fans vested with an element of management, commercial or operational power appear pretty remote. This column has made the point before: football ‘clubs’ are nothing of the sort. They’re businesses operating in the entertainment sector.
Accordingly, it doesn’t make sense for any government to interfere with such operations unless it plans to do the same with the owners of cinemas, theatres, nightclubs and a host of other private enterprises successfully going about their business within the entertainment sector.
Moreover, while it’s comparatively easy for politicians to issue impressive-sounding (or populist) statements of intent, the practicalities of implementing grandiose ideas can often prove insurmountable.
To provide some political balance, consider Labour’s proposals, announced last week (after the BBC released a report showing how expensive match day tickets are), to enable support trusts to buy shares in football clubs.
According to the shadow sports minister, Clive Efford, this process could only be activated when a stake of more than 30 per cent was being sold, at which point the new purchaser would be obliged to offer 10 per cent of the shareholding to the supporter trust at the average sale price.
The trust would then be given eight months to raise the cash with which it could acquire the shares.
Who could argue with such an equitable proposal? Lenders, for one.
Imagine a Premier League club owner sells his 100 per cent stake for say, £75 million. Let’s not concern ourselves about where the incoming owner gets his money from – after all, it’s not bothered those who are supposed to be administering the ‘fit and proper person’ rules – which means in this case, the supporters could, theoretically, buy a stake in the club, assuming they can raise £7.5 million.
However, unless the government of the day is committed to providing the supporter trust with some form of soft loan, this is no straightforward task.
Even the world’s thickest banker would want some form of security to extend a loan of such magnitude. Could the trust offer an asset, perhaps part of the ground (which it doesn’t own), as security? Would it need to find 20 per cent in cash (£1.5 million) before a bank would entertain making a loan? Who would be responsible for making the loan repayments, presumably generated from matchday revenues, television, advertising and sponsorship income which, in the first instance, would go directly to the owner of 90 per cent of the shares? Football fans will argue that if clubs like Atletico Bilbao, Barcelona, Benfica, Bayern Munich, Borussia Dortmund, Boca Juniors and a host of others can be effectively owned and run by their fans, why can’t we do the same here? Historically, however, these clubs have never been in private hands.
Furthermore, it certainly grates when we see how some English clubs are run as personal fiefdoms, while we’re increasingly uncomfortable with foreign owners in particular snapping up large, well-established chunks of our sporting heritage.
In a social media message issued on Tuesday, the Labour party said, “Football is more than just a business, it’s vital to our communities. We’ll give fans a say over how clubs are run.” What neither Labour, nor the Conservative party have revealed, however, is how they could effectively – and legally – interfere with legitimate businesses and force them to invite outsiders in to help manage their enterprises. There’s a good reason for this: our politicians may wish to be seen as populist, but the fact is they cannot target one tiny, privately-owned sector of the economy and legislate for how it should be run, not if they want the UK to be seen as a nation which encourages businesses of every hue and attracts billions of pounds of inward investment. In other words, the recent brief forays by politicians into football-related matters is, I suspect, nothing more than pre-election gimmickry.
