EPL: A Summer Of Discontent?

In the latter part of 1978, on a backdrop of unpopular government policies, the trade unions in Britain stood up for better pay increases. Powerful as they were, the unions handicapped economic production.

Labour Prime Minister, James Callaghan had a history of cooperation with the trade unions—he had helped them gain much of their power—and so was unable to take a hard line and crush the protests. As the strikes grew more widespread, they crippled a nation.

Labelled "the Winter of Discontent" by the media and subsequent historians (taking its name from the opening lines of Shakespeare’s "Richard III") it has become remembered as the high watermark for trade union strength and disruption.

A crucial period, it changed political opinions—the tide of voter popularity swung away from Labour. Under new PM Margaret Thatcher, the Conservative party worked tirelessly to remove many of the powers of the trade unions—silencing their arguments. The economy was stabilised, but at the price of popularity.

Here endeth the history lesson. The question is this; is 2008 football’s "Summer of Discontent?"

It certainly looks that way. Baring the almost unmitigated success of the European Championships, the footballing media has been dominated by reports of unhappiness and unrest.

It is the players that have been the main culprits. Cristiano Ronaldo, Gareth Barry, Emmanuel Adebayor—high-profile players who have all looked to engineer a move for themselves away from their current employers.

Despite domestic and European success, the Portuguese winger has been forthright in his view that he should be allowed to leave, regardless of a long-term contract signed just one year ago—going as far as to agree with FIFA President Sepp Blatter’s widely discredited assertion that he was a "slave."

All three players, while currently yet to move, look like they will inevitably get their wish. Victims of ever-growing player power, clubs no longer seem to be able to keep control of their assets. Contracts are no longer worth the paper they are written on.

It is not simply ambitious players looking for more high profile clubs that have caught the media spotlight. Frank Lampard, unhappy with the four-year deal offered by his supposedly "beloved" Chelsea, looks likely to move into the welcoming arms of Inter Milan—and the lucrative five-year deal they have tabled.

Tottenham striker Robbie Keane has also been angling for a move, since Liverpool’s interest in him became public, and Newcastle’s Obafemi Martins has been similarly enthusiastic about Arsenal’s overtures.

Few Premier League clubs have not been forced to deal with unsettled starlets.

But it is not just the players that have been causing problems for their teams— the clubs have courted more than enough controversy by themselves. Just this past week Tottenham, unhappy with the alleged "tapping up" of Dimitar Berbatov and Robbie Keane, reported both Manchester United and Liverpool to the FA. 

Man Utd, of course, suddenly found themselves with the boot on the other foot —previously they had been the ones complaining bitterly to UEFA about Real Madrid’s illegal pursuit of Ronaldo. Tottenham chairman Daniel Levy, noting this incongruity, described Alex Ferguson and Man Utd as "arrogant and hypocritical."

Apparently Levy may face legal action due to these comments—but only if Berbatov stays. Such is the silly world football now inhabits.

Clubs, while all victims of their player’s disloyalty, could have opted to unite in the face of a threat that is rapidly becoming out of control. Instead, they have seemingly chosen to betray one another in pursuit of self-interest.

In this age where the pursuit of money and success has created unprecedented rivalry, perhaps such is to be expected.

Something has to change, however, and quickly. What is needed, much like in ’78, is a different tactic from the leadership—a move from begrudging weakness to forcefulness and strength.

The FA, governors of the English game, must stand up and restore the balance between player and club, and between the clubs themselves.

Unfortunately, the current leaders of the FA look singularly unable to do this.

They have already shown weakness this summer. The tribunal of John Bostock, and its much-debated result, was undoubtedly another blow for the smaller team—the FA playing right into the hands of Premier League behemoths.

It also struck another blow for player power—now even 16-year-old kids have little obligation to the club that groomed them. Clubs like Palace, who invest millions in developing young talent, can now resign themselves to losing their brightest hopes for less than Ronaldo’s monthly wages.

The FA, so vocal in their commitment to grassroots football, contradicted their stance with this ruling. In one decision, they removed the financial viability of many Football League academies. Why should small clubs bother to waste funds on training the most talented players, if the income will be less than the expenses?

The tribunal had another effect, in that it signified the beginning of the end for Palace chairman Simon Jordan’s involvement in football. Jordan, a divisive figure at the best of times, remarked that he was "disillusioned" by the tribunal and would look to sell the Selhurst Park outfit. Often outspoken and critical, he will not be missed in many quarters, including Soho Square.

This is a bigger shame than many may think. Unfortunately for football, Jordan was one of the few men in the game who spoke out against the injustices he saw. Listen to many of his statements, it is hard to argue with the logic and reason of what he says.

It is his attraction to controversy (and perma-tan) that creates such dislike. However, it is important to remember that he spoke out not to gain column inches, but through genuine fear for a game he loves.

In this time of discontent, football needs outspoken men like Jordan. But the FA, rather than welcoming him into the fold, have ruthlessly pushed him into the margins.

Such a tactic does not bode well for the future. If Labour had managed this with the Conservatives in '78, what would have happened to Britain?

But unlike in politics, the public do not have a say in who runs football.

Now, I am not wishing to put Jordan on a pedestal—or make him the Margaret Thatcher of this analogy. But harsh words and uncomfortable decisions need to be made if English football is to get back on track. Someone like Simon Jordan could make those decisions.

Is Brian Barwick capable of such decisions?

Unable to hire a willing Scolari, unable to open the Centre of Excellence at Burton-on-Trent and unable to make Wembley profitable—such a record does not induce hope.

If Barwick et al cannot adequately deal with a youngster’s tribunal, how will they deal with tapping up cases involving the Premier League elite?

In general, how will they protect English football?

Such questions will need to be answered soon.

“Now is our summer of discontent…”