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The football world had a lot to say on the London riots. Paul Campbell believes not all of it was sensible

When the violence on the streets of north London began to spread across the country, it was inevitable that football would play a part in the discussion. Like most people, the football writer Ian Ridley watched the news and felt helpless. Unlike most people, however, Ridley thought that the game could somehow save the supposedly broken Britain.

“At times like these, you can feel helpless and peripheral in the sports pages, which always used to be known in newspapers as the toy department,” said a mournful Ridley in his Express column. “Maybe football can play its part in repair and healing, however. The thugs have won a battle. Let us hope they don’t, metaphorically, win the war… As the opium of the masses, it is far healthier than any liquid or substance. Or internet obsession.”

While Ridley bastardised the writings of Karl Marx, Henry Winter drew attention to the teachings of that other political heavyweight, Rio Ferdinand. Without sounding at all worried about the implications of his statement, Winter claimed that Ferdinand’s “voice certainly carries more resonance on inner-city streets than any politician’s”.

Perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising that those working in the football industry afford the game such importance. But it is a little concerning. Men who know a lot about kicking balls aren’t necessarily going to be great at constructing government policy, as Ian Holloway proved in the Independent. The Blackpool manager used his media platform to call for the rioters to stop smashing up shops and be more like Paul Scholes, “who went through his whole career without even a whiff of an off-the-field issue”. Holloway also pinned some blame on the media, arguing that “if the TV cameras weren’t there and we didn’t know about it I don’t think the rioting would have sparked up anywhere else”.

Holloway wasn’t the only football manager with an opinion. The Sun carried a double-page interview with a “sad, sickened and angry” Harry Redknapp, who blamed the riots on a breakdown in family values. “When I was 12 or 13, boys would meet their football manager dressed in a blazer or at least a pair of trousers. Now some of them turn up to see me wearing a pair of jeans with their arse hanging out. They just don’t care.” Stan Collymore called for help: “I want to know where the musicians, actors and rappers are at a time like this?”

With the great and the good of the football universe calling for action, it was left to a man still playing the game to offer some sense. David James, writing in the Observer, wondered how young people could relate to footballers at all: “While it is true that most of us have had a council estate upbringing, most now live away from those communities, enjoying a lifestyle that is light years from the kids we are talking about… Are people really going to listen to a millionaire footballer living in a plush mansion telling people who are struggling to make ends meet on a council estate to calm down?”

James went on to suggest that long-term engagement with a community would make more sense than taking a few seconds to type “Stop the violence” into a mobile phone. With this thought in mind it was heartening to see Peter Crouch and Benoît Assou-Ekotto involve themselves in the clean-up along Tottenham High Road. Football isn’t the opium of the masses and an involvement in the game doesn’t bring with it statesmanlike authority. But footballers, like everyone else, can help their communities most when they’re a part of them.

From WSC 296 October 2011

Tottenham Hotspur could play an important role in local redevelopment after the London riots but it’s not clear where their priorities lie, according to Alan Fisher

The spark that ignited urban disturbances across the country, Tottenham suffered more damage than any other area. As well as extensive destruction of property, up to 200 people were made homeless and a leisure centre provided emergency shelter, food and clothing for families who lost everything. As the rebuilding begins, the role of a football club in the community will be tested as never before.

Tottenham is an area of considerable social deprivation. Tottenham Hotspur, regularly in the world’s top 15 clubs in terms of annual income, falls within a ward that is among the five per cent most deprived in England, while in Tottenham as a whole 80.3 per cent of children live in low-income homes.

The burnt-out Carpetright store heavily featured on the news is a few hundred yards from the ground but the club remained unscathed apart from some damage to the ticket office. Tottenham High Road, the main route to the ground by car and public transport, remained closed for several days, causing the postponement of the season’s opening fixture against Everton.

It was natural that local people and politicians should look to the club as a major partner in the future. Victoria Hart lives on the High Road and spent a long Saturday night reassuring a frightened and bewildered six-year-old as the troubles raged outside her window.

“We all feel very damaged by the riots and the destruction around us. We want to retain a pride in Tottenham but it’s difficult when the press perception seems to be of a locality where a riot was ‘just bound’ to happen. I hope the football club, being one of the really identifiable places on the High Road, can help us to rebuild. And I mean that more emotionally than financially.”

Early signs were positive. Spurs chairman Daniel Levy swiftly committed the club to “help with both the physical clean-up of our area and the longer term rebuilding of community spirit”. The fans responded too. Many travelled to Tottenham on their spare Saturday to labour alongside local people as the clean-up continued, while an internet appeal of behalf of 89-year-old barber Aaron Biber raised over £35,000. The refurbished shop was opened by Peter Crouch, looking decidedly nervous as Biber hovered behind him, clippers at the ready.

Otherwise, it has been left to Benoît Assou-Ekotto to respond on behalf of the players. The full-back is fast attaining cult status among Spurs fans for his dashing performances and grounded attitude. He travels by Tube, for goodness’ sake. Conscious of his own impoverished upbringing, he readily grasped both the dismay of local people and their resolve to put matters right. It remains to be seen if Spurs are similarly in close touch with the needs of the community.

Like many clubs, Spurs are proud of their outreach work. In 2007 they invested £4.5 million in a foundation working in sport, education and with the unemployed. Yet the local impact is questionable. Mark Perryman, co-founder of Philosophy Football and a season-ticket holder, trenchantly dismisses the club’s performance in the 25 years he’s lived locally: “The club makes the name of the borough known worldwide but otherwise I don’t see what it gives the area. Away from the ground itself the club’s presence physically is almost non-existent and it’s painfully obvious how disconnected the club is. It’s just not a significant institution in the community in which I live.”

His words apply to many Premier League clubs. Spurs’ popular soccer coaching schools reach out to the relatively affluent suburban fanbases in Hertfordshire and Essex rather than the estates around White Hart Lane. Also, some of the highest ticket prices in the country mean locals cannot afford to watch their team. “London clubs aren’t London clubs, they’re Home Counties clubs. Those who can afford season-tickets don’t live in inner London. There may have been a connection a generation or so ago, not now,” says Perryman.

At the same time as he talks about increased community engagement, Levy is actively exploring a move away from Tottenham entirely. Economics overrides history or community responsibility when it comes to the board’s preferred option of a new ground to replace the venerable but creaking White Hart Lane on the Olympic Park site. This which will be cheaper to build and generate greater income from non-football activity. Undeterred by a ruling in favour of West Ham, they are taking it to a costly judicial review later this year.

The alternative is a 56,250-seat stadium next door to the current ground, plus housing, a hotel, supermarket and, crucially, improved transport links to reinvigorate the area. Supporters groups such as We Are N17 campaign to stay in Tottenham but the project now takes on a significance greater than merely preserving the club’s heritage. It’s an ill wind, and the recent problems will strengthen both the political pressure to stay put and the case for substantial regional growth fund and enterprise zone bids to boost business and cover a proportion of Spurs’ costs.

Talking to residents, the club is clearly part of their lives and has the potential to act as a focus for their determination to rebuild relationships as well as bricks and mortar. The stadium project, important though it may be, is not in itself enough. Spurs must reach out and engage with a willing community of which it is a part. As Victoria Hart says: “We always needed the club but we need it a whole lot more now.”

From WSC 296 October 2011

Not everyone is convinced by the crocodile tears and PR onslaught of a controversial midfielder’s transfer saga, Mark Brophy among them.

Joey Barton’s departure from Newcastle United a few days before the end of August was the end to a long, tortuous tale. The club claim he drew away from negotiations on a new contract shortly after the sale of Andy Carroll without replacement in January, followed by the withdrawal of their contract offer, and ever since it has seemed likely that Barton would leave. Despite other influential players also leaving in that period, Barton’s public pronouncements through the summer have guided the story rather than the series of transfers.

In terms of events the narrative is a straightforward one. A player concerned about the direction their club is taking, and seeking a new and improved contract with a year to go on the old one, doesn’t receive an offer meeting his expectations. As the summer draws on the player engineers a bust-up with club staff and is informed he can leave immediately on a free. Just before the end of the transfer window another club makes an offer which he accepts.

What is different here from, say, Samir Nasri’s move from Arsenal to Manchester City is Barton’s use of social media to communicate directly with fans. Whereas Nasri criticised Arsenal supporters both before and after his move was complete, Barton tweeted his version of events always in a way guaranteed to appeal to Newcastle fans. The bust-up itself partially took place on Twitter, Barton repeatedly criticising the way the club was run, though he was careful to restrict his criticism to the club hierarchy.

He claimed he would only leave for football reasons to a Champions League club, his frustration at the club’s transfer dealings being a factor. He then claimed he wanted to stay but was continuing to wait for a contract offer from the club. Even at the 11th hour, having spoken to QPR, his eventual destination, he communicated his need for time and space to think, the inference being that he was torn by the possibility of leaving a club for which he felt a genuine affinity.

The saga as viewed through the Barton prism fed into widespread supporter disquiet at the running of the club. He portrayed himself as a victim, being forced out by a club wishing to rid itself of a high-earning player who no longer fitted their preferred profile. There’s a certain amount of truth to this in the sense that if the club felt he was worth it they would have offered him more. A display of reluctance to leave even when offered more money again played to the wish of the fans to believe that the player feels the same as they do.

Many fans took his tweets at face value, which gained him considerable support in the stand-off. That might not have been true had he attempted to put his case via more traditional media, being filtered by the view of the reporter in question. If Barton’s primary purpose was to highlight the club selling last season’s best performers without adequate replacement, then it is ironic that his actions had the opposite effect, in diverting focus from worries about the club overall onto endless discussion of himself.

The Twitter rant that provoked his transfer listing did not precipitate a change in modus operandi at the club but instead created an opportunity to gain a lucrative transfer for himself. The Champions League suitors happily confirmed initially by his agent failed to materialise. He leaves to a club with a no more impressive list of summer transfers than Newcastle, though with better communication of their ambitious vision for the future following a very recent takeover.

With a year left on his contract he had no need to go anywhere immediately and, whatever reluctance to leave he may have felt, leave he eventually did. So this cannot in truth be portrayed as a move for footballing betterment, with neither club likely to trouble trophy engravers any time soon. If leaving by choice, as seems to be the case, the improved contract must have helped concentrate Barton’s mind. Now the transfer has gone through, it is his protestations of loyalty which most jar, a 21st century equivalent of badge-kissing.

Why then did Barton bother with a PR exercise in self-justification aimed at fans of a club he was agitating to leave, if that is what he was doing? Cod psychology might suggest Barton’s overriding need to be loved, but he could more reasonably have been driven by a wish to maintain the possibility that the interest of other clubs would persuade Newcastle to offer the contract he desired. If Barton’s time at Newcastle is to have a legacy, it may be that players become aware of an easy method of hedging their bets publicly while pushing for a lucrative move behind the scenes. 

From WSC 296 October 2011

Adam Bate believes getting the press onside is an important skill for any football figure, but they don’t all seem to realise this

“I wasn’t a great communicator. Things are different now because I’m trying to get into media work, but I didn’t speak to the press then and that maybe didn’t help my cause. The thing is that at Blackburn and West Ham, my performances were OK and spoke for themselves, but that wasn’t the case here [at Fulham].” Ian Pearce, 2011.

Pearce’s attitude is indicative of many professional footballers. They take the view that there is no advantage to be gained from speaking to the ladies and gentlemen of the press. The media are simply out to get them and the safest course of action is to steer well clear. But, as Pearce suggests, this belief can actually damage a footballer’s career.

Of course, in a very different way, Joey Barton’s recent outpourings on Twitter have challenged the relationship between footballers and the media further. In embracing social media with alarming honesty, Barton has not only served to highlight the anodyne contributions of his peers but also left journalists reporting information that many of the public have already accessed directly.

Lawrie Madden is a footballer-turned-journalist who now gives media training courses for the League Managers Association (LMA). At a Lilleshall seminar in July 2011, he said: “I still don’t think football clubs, players and agents fully understand the role of the media and what it’s there for. A lot of players want to deal with the media when it suits them, or when they’ve got a book to promote, but most of the time they don’t want to know. If you want to build a career in the media it’s a lot easier if you worked on that relationship when you were playing. It’s not rocket science but sometimes you’d think it is.”

It’s not just players that need to work on their relationship with the press. As Madden knows from his role with the LMA, managers could also do themselves a few more favours. He added: “Sir Alex Ferguson bans people from press conferences just to teach them a lesson. At any one point there might be three Premier League managers refusing to talk to Sky. Some of them are missing a trick because the media can provide a career beyond football – as long as a player or manager conducts themselves correctly.”

Perhaps it’s not so crucial for a man such as Ferguson – he celebrates his 70th birthday on New Year’s Eve and septuagenarians with knighthoods aren’t known for clogging up the dole queue. But while Fergie is working from a position of strength, others can be significantly helped or hindered by the press coverage they receive when the going gets tough.

Gordon Strachan is a manager who became infamous for his surly attitude towards the press. Richard Rae, writing in the Independent last year, acknowledged: “Plenty of journalists have been the subject of an acerbic put-down, which [Strachan] accepts probably doesn’t help when his managerial record is being analysed.”

In stark contrast, Harry Redknapp remains notorious for his tendency to court sections of the media. Birmingham Mail reporter Chris Lepkowski recently revealed on Twitter that when Redknapp’s Portsmouth defeated West Bromwich Albion in an FA Cup semi-final in 2008, one of the wags in the press room was heard to say: “Thank God the quotable manager won.” Of course, maybe he’s just that kind of guy. But it provided food for thought when Tottenham struggled their way through a difficult three-month period in the spring that brought just one solitary win in 13 games. While many Spurs fans were dismayed, the usually over-reacting tabloid press remained firmly in support of Redknapp.

Neil Ashton, formerly of the News of the World, demanded fans get off Redknapp’s back. Charlie Wyett of the Sun – a paper for which Redknapp has written a regular column – was particularly incredulous and appeared to be seeking vengeance. Wyett went so far as to suggest that the Spurs fans who had criticised the manager deserved for the club to be relegated the following season.

Contrast this with the treatment of Fabio Capello. The Italian endured an undoubtedly disappointing 2010 World Cup as England manager. However, when the Sun is producing back-page headlines labelling Capello a Weirdo and a Jackass, it is legitimate to consider the possibility that there are other elements at work. His refusal to interact with the media as freely as some of his contemporaries is a factor that perhaps should not be overlooked.

Don’t expect Capello to be tweeting the reasons for his team selections any time soon. But you can certainly expect the relationship, or lack of it, between players, managers and the media to continue to shape public perceptions for some time to come.

From WSC 296 October 2011

Cameron Carter explores how the concept of a Big Four is no longer enough

Consensus is a hard thing to come by. How, for instance, can we begin to arrive at agreement on the true source of the riots around England when the Football Focus team cannot even decide how many teams make up the Big Four? It used to be easier when it was just Manchester United, Chelsea, Arsenal and Liverpool. They were our Tesco, Sainsbury’s, Asda and Morrisons. There was no ambiguity at this time, no indecision. But the Premier League, like the world outside, has become a more complex place.

At the start of Football Focus on August 13 the concept of a “top six” was given its first airing, presumably constructed by BBC imagineers from the previous top four plus Manchester City and Spurs, while later in the same programme Eric Cantona was asked how he thought the “top five might finish”. There was still time before the end for Patrick Vieira to question how Wolves would do this season against the “top four or five”.

This matter had not been cleared up by the following Saturday, when Rafa Benítez considered how Everton would compete with the “top six”. It seems unfair that Everton have to face up to two more top clubs – that is, four more top games – than Wolves this season. One solution, albeit in an already crowded fixture list, is a pre-season mini-league featuring the nominal Big Six, to decide which teams are entitled to be formally named as the Big Four.

Otherwise, the worst case scenario here is that the Big Four expands incrementally, as more overseas investors buy into Premier League Sleeping Giants, until we have a ‘”Big 11″ by the end of the decade. At the point that numbers in the elite pool are greater than those outside it, we should all go down to the sea and wait for the world to be cleansed with fire.
For those of us awaiting the annual glory that is Lineker’s Marvellous Line, there was a credit-crunch, own-brand disappointment this year. Generally, before the theme music of the first Match of the Day of the new season, Gary stands before us in a glossy black shirt and, with dancing eyes, unleashes an adrenalin shot in the form of a carefully sculpted sentence prepared for him by a team of resting novelists.

Barry Davies started the big curtain-raiser soundbite trend with his Rupert Brooke desecration: “Stands the clock at ten-to-three/and is there football still to see?” Since then, twinkly Des Lynam, followed in turn by the lad Lineker, made a point of letting us know that they, like ordinary people everywhere, were simply treading water all summer until a thrilling new football season began.

This time, however, Gary was seated, not standing, and his eyes before he vocalised spoke of a terrible new maturity, learned possibly from accidental exposure to non-sports-based world news on his satellite television. All he said was “It’s been an awfully long summer” before introducing his sidekicks and the games as if it were any old Saturday. The absence of knowingly familiar expectancy-building in this welcome was somehow more disheartening than all the other cuts so far imposed on the UK’s population since the general election. It is surely but a short step from excising unnecessary opening-day vivaciousness in our flagship terrestrial football programme to banning all forms of dance, theatre and social dieting as unpatriotic fripperies.

Dan Walker’s mania for dragging the Football Focus cameras around dressing rooms continues apace. On the opening morning of the season, to demonstrate possession of the Access All Areas wristbands, he swanned into the Brighton dressing room where he was rewarded with the sight of 13 Brighton players seated around the bench studiously reading the match programme. You might think the point of going backstage is to show a fly-on-the-wall slice of life, to give your viewership a rare glimpse of the daily lives of the men they only otherwise get to see on the pitch, on television or, very rarely, in the flesh, flushed with refreshment and demanding that the manager of the country club sets up the karaoke.

But no, Dan stole behind the scenes to discover a carefully stage-managed tableau of young men with heads bowed wonderingly over a difficult text, not dissimilar in composition to Rembrandt’s Anatomy Lesson of Dr Nicolaes Tulp. It was a lovely image, but surely with Robbie Savage in the same room, there would more naturally be towel-flicking and banter containing sexual swear words? A bit of advice, young Walker – if you are going to barge in on somebody, make sure they are unprepared. 

From WSC 296 October 2011