THE CLUB: How the Premier League Became the Richest,
Most Disruptive Business in Sport
JOSHUA ROBINSON and JONATHAN
CLEGG
John Murray Publishing, 2019,
338 pages
Review by Phil Shannon
If football is a simple game
(get the ball, pass the ball), then the football business is even simpler (buy
the best players, bank the profits). As
the sports journalists, Joshua Robinson and Jonathan Clegg, note in The Club, for Spain’s La Liga, Germany’s
Bundesliga and the English Premier League (EPL), there is a near perfect correlation
between a football club’s total player wages bill on day one of a season and
their club’s ladder position at the end of it.
As the University of Michigan economics professor behind this finding has
demonstrated, money buys success.
EPL footballing success has
been bought by the world’s super-rich who have added historic, working-class
English football clubs to their asset portfolio. A Gulf oil sheik, a Russian oligarch, Asian
Tiger titans, a professional poker player, an advertising executive, an ‘adult’
entertainment businessman, real estate developers, commodity traders,
hedge-fund managers, an Icelandic banker, the owner of Harrods department
store, an Indian poultry tycoon, a number of Chinese businessmen, and a whole
phalanx of American corporate tycoons have all gotten in on the act.
It doesn’t matter if they aren’t
personally passionate about football but they have to be passionate about
making money from football. Spending
hundreds of millions of pounds on English football clubs is a rational business
investment. Newly cash-rich clubs can
now buy serious footballing talent from across the globe. This can purchase silverware plus the annual
£150 million income from the EPL’s broadcasting rights revenue.
Clubs that had yo-yoed up and
down the old Football League Divisions can suddenly countenance EPL success
under their new mega-wealthy bosses. Wealthy
EPL owners have opened the title door to Chelsea who won their first
championship title in sixty years, Blackburn their first ever. Manchester City lifted their first major
trophy in 35 years. The unfashionable Leicester
City’s 2015-16 championship win ended a 152 year title drought courtesy of a Thai
duty-free retail baron’s fortune.
Short of a title, however,
the realistic prize for most clubs’ owners is the highly-coveted EPL golden
pass to continued membership of the elite competition through avoiding
relegation by just being less worse than three other teams.
There are side-benefits,
too. For the image-conscious billionaire
(particularly those with political links and dodgy human rights records), an
EPL franchise is a must-have PR accessory. For those owners who actually like football,
they can purchase their very own late-life toy - a former Blackburn player said
that his club had become a very expensive ‘train set’ for its steel business
owner.
Established more than a
century ago in 1888 by local labourers and factory workers, the football clubs that
made up Britain’s old Football League have since been transformed into EPL “trophy
investments” as their new owners have figured out how to monetise the people’s
game by turning it into a commodity, treating its players as human production
units up for trade, and reducing its fans to eyeball-counts for TV networks.
Huge satellite television
broadcasting deals were the decisive factor in the transformation of English
football. Wary of live television
coverage lest it harm match-day attendance and revenue, English clubs had historically
not courted broadcasters – in 1964, for example, the sole television coverage
was the BBC’s edited highlights show,
Match of the Day, for which the Beeb paid just £5,000.
The top half dozen clubs at
the time were not happy with this monetary return and successfully chivvied the
Football League to make more from broadcast rights. A combination of the big clubs’ business
ambitions and Rupert Murdoch’s eye for a quid saw the media mogul pay £304 million
for a five-year broadcast contract so he could sit back and watch the
advertising dollars and satellite TV subscriptions pour in as a twenty-team
(down from forty in the old top flight tier) EPL kicked off in 1992. The EPL is now “the world’s most popular
league in the world’s most popular sport”, a global entertainment product marketed
to 185 countries and generating revenue of £5.6 billion pounds a season.
The costs of turning the EPL
clubs into London Stock Exchange-listed commercial enterprises, on the other
hand, have been borne by you know who. Pricey
season tickets (ranging from almost £1,000 to over £2,000 for premium seats)
and corporate luxury boxes have crowded out the great unwashed, and match-day
atmosphere has suffered as a result. As Roy
Keane, the former captain of Manchester United, said of the corporate guests
chloroforming the once-proletarian terraces – ‘I don’t think some of the people
who come to Old Trafford can spell football, never mind understand it’.
Football in the EPL era is “a
game increasingly divorced from its working class roots”, say the authors. The discontents of capitalist globalisation
as played out in the EPL have seen the organic connections between club,
community and nation continuing to fray.
Now, driven by
profit-maximising global outreach, English football risks “changing its very
identity, perhaps irrevocably”. With two
out of every three EPL footballers from overseas, what is so English about the
English Premier League? the authors ask.
How much ‘real’ Chelsea was there about Chelsea Football Club when it
held the dubious distinction in 1997 of being “the first club to field a team
without a single British player in 111 years of English professional football”? How likely is the English national team’s
1966 World Cup victory to be repeated, now that overseas marquee players galore
deprive potential English nationals of weekly selection and valuable experience
playing against high-quality opposition?
The new EPL football
‘product’ may have scored with the world’s super-rich and TV broadcasters and
advertisers but the authors regret the passing of what they call the old “socialist
model” of English football (egalitarian revenue distribution, salary caps,
restrictions on overseas players). They
mourn the closed chapter of ‘competitive balance’ when all clubs stood some
sort of meritocratic chance of success, not just the usual EPL financial elite (Arsenal,
Man City, Man United, Chelsea, Liverpool, Tottenham).
There is, however, discontent
amongst these Big Six that footballing ‘socialism’ has not been fully expunged.
Their sense of entitlement is gargantuan. Offended by the Leicester insurgents, they
ratcheted up already insane levels of player transfer spending and have since reasserted
financial, and score-sheet, hegemony. These
apex predator-clubs also want to grab a greater share of the multi-billion pound
television rights for themselves, arguing that overseas viewers are only getting
up early or going to bed late in order to watch the glamour teams, not “bloody
Bournemouth”.
Robinson and Clegg disapprove
of how Big Money has soiled the working class integrity of English football
but, like so many fans, they are resigned to it. Coupled with a certain admiration for the principal,
and very rich, new disruptors starring in a blockbuster “business and
entertainment saga”, they rationalise the new money-mad direction of football
as necessary to drag “the quaint and tribal world of football into the 21st
Century”.
But that’s capitalism for you
– if the goal is to put profit and prestige ahead of people and their football passion,
then capitalism is in a most unattractive league of its own.