When the disciplinary process grinds into life, it is often the Football Association (FA) that gets mangled by the gears. Out of the babble reported by websites, newspapers and broadcasters, it has to pick out the phrases that supposedly require investigation. For the ruling body, this is a dreadful and exasperating misuse of its time.
In a sport where illicit payments probably drop into offshore bank accounts, why worry about a word out of place? FA staff would also be better employed monitoring the funding of vastly expensive Wembley than collecting irrelevant fines. Arsène Wenger had to stump up £15 000 for his observations on Ruud van Nistelrooy, but the sum did not sting enough to keep him silent for long.
The persistent ache is in the minds of harassed FA staff. They are the people condemned to draw distinctions that border on the absurd. Jose Mourinho was swiftly excused for complaining of ”dive after dive” by Manchester United. There was, however, a sharp intake of breath at Soho Square the next day when he grouched about ”cheat and cheat”.
The Chelsea manager was making exactly the same accusation on both occasions. The only difference is that the word ”cheat” is taboo as the FA strains to cling on to some notion of decorum. It might as well let go. Football and propriety never have had much to do with each other and charges of ”bringing the game into disrepute” are ridiculously quaint. The sport has had its underhand aspect virtually from the start.
You couldn’t even trust the Victorians. Professionalism wasn’t legalised until 1885, but money found its way into the pockets of star players well before that date. Football has an underside of intrigue and unseemliness that, like it or not, is part of its allure. There is vast hypocrisy in the call for an overworked FA to enforce a pretence of respectability.
Referees need to be protected from accusations of bias, but free speech ought to apply in other matters. Should Sir Alex Ferguson feud with Wenger there is no victim. Each man can look after himself.
Po-faced concerns will be raised that their squabble might inflame the crowd when the sides meet next month, but that is to patronise supporters. Virtually all of them are sophisticated enough to realise that ”furious” rows tend to be part of a premeditated war of nerves. If there is uproar in the Highbury stands on February 1, it is far more likely to be detonated by a bad foul or a mistaken decision by an official.
Freedom of comment could gradually bring about more restraint than any FA clampdown. Without the current hysteria, managers might appreciate how silly and futile their accusations usually are. We generally do these people too much credit by calling their outbursts ”mind games”. An exchange of snarls does not deserve to be placed beside Fischer vs Spassky in the annals of intellectual conflict.
The willingness of the FA and, admittedly, journalists to find a scandal in every tirade just encourages managers to take themselves too seriously. Mourinho was barely reminded of the silliness of his implication that Ferguson could manipulate Neale Barry with a mere two or three words at half-time.
The Chelsea manager should be glad that he didn’t cross the Scot’s path in his hyperactive early days. Those who refereed north of the border at the end of the 1970s laughed over the lobbying campaign that they claim awaited them at Pittodrie.
Arriving at midday to officiate at an Aberdeen match they would be met by a doorman who mentioned the violent streak of one of the opposition’s players. The woman who brought a cup of tea to the referee’s room would shake her head over the iniquity of someone else in the other team.
As he inspected the pitch he would bump into a groundsman with something similar to say. While in the home dressing room to check the players’ boots, he would be treated to a conversation among the Aberdeen side about the many evils of the visitors. A referee needed a strong mind to hold on to his objectivity.
By comparison, the present wrangling and gamesmanship in football is much too petty to take up the FA’s time. The League Managers Association ought to arbitrate in any true grievance that does arise. Failing that, the warring parties could always go to court. After all, Premiership folk are in the tiny sliver of English society that can comfortably afford to sue for slander. — Â