Why do soccer teams need owners? I find it fascinating that a team’s fortunes may have nothing to do with local support and passion and everything to do with having a benevolent and competent owner – and the luck involved in your team having one or not. Why wouldn’t a fan-ownership model work? Christo
Some countries do have fan ownership: in Germany and Sweden, for instance, 51% of the club or more has to be owned by fans (there are exceptions for former works clubs such as Wolfsburg and Bayer Leverkusen, and RB Leipzig have managed to create a membership structure that ensures Red Bull’s control), while in Spain certain clubs, most notably Barcelona and Real Madrid, have membership models, with fans voting for the president. But without a more equitable distribution model or salary caps, the club with the most or the richest fans would still dominate. And when you have the untrammelled capitalism of, say, the Premier League, it’s very hard for those member-owned clubs to compete financially.
The ownership model we have in England, though, creates the tension that an entity that represents its city or region is often run by somebody with no connection to that city or region, leaving fans dependent, as you say, on their benevolence and competence. And in an increasingly globalised marketplace, those owners are often looking to appeal to fans beyond the immediate region, a financial necessity that risks the uniqueness of each club and its place as a symbol of its community.
There have been plenty of opportunities over the years for the state to define clubs as community assets, to give fans a say, but when they’re run as normal businesses, it’s very hard legally to restrict who can own them. It’s probably now too late: the UK government is never going to issue a compulsory purchase order to take Newcastle United off the Saudi PIF to give it to the people of Tyneside (most of whom, anyway, seem quite happy with the Saudi cash).
Who was the last successful midfield player Manchester United bought? Tony
That’s possibly a little harsh on Casemiro and Christian Eriksen, both of whom have had their moments, although neither has been great this season, and buying multiple thirtysomethings on high wages is not a sign of a recruitment department at the top of its game. If you mean who are the last young-ish players United bought who went on to have five or more years playing at a high level, or looks like they may do so, then that’s an issue affecting more than the midfield. I still have faith in Mason Mount but beyond him and Bruno Fernandes, who I assume from the tenor of the question you’re classing as a forward, the answer is probably Michael Carrick, signed from Tottenham in 2006-07, which says a lot.
Why is Gareth Southgate so conservative, cautious and scared to utilise the qualities at his disposal? And strangely he keeps on selecting Harry Maguire. Patrick
I don’t think he is overly conservative or cautious. Soccer is about balance; you have to be able to win the ball back before you can use it, and you have to be able to defend yourself against the counter. Playing two deep-lying midfielders is a straightforward way of doing that – and even then, Declan Rice likes driving forward so to get the best out of him he needs a player to offer cover. Plus, if there is only one deep midfielder, it’s much harder for the full-backs to get forward, which is necessary both to offer alternative angles of attack and to draw defenders away to create more space for England’s wide forwards.
It’s tempting to look at Bukayo Saka, Phil Foden, Jack Grealish, James Maddison and Raheem Sterling and wonder whether there’s a way to squeeze more than two in, perhaps pushing Jude Bellingham deeper, and that may be an option against weaker opposition, but Bellingham’s form at the minute means you want him with as much freedom and offering as much goal threat as possible. And given the lack of time available to international managers to work with players, it makes sense to play the default as often as possible to try to generate as much familiarity with the system as possible. At the club level, maybe a level of solidity could be achieved with more attacking players, but international soccer, because of that lack of preparation time, will always be a more basic form of the game. Besides, international tournaments culminate in knockout games; if you don’t concede you don’t lose (at least until penalties), which also means the general tone is more cautious.
Look at Argentina, who spent 20 years trying to squeeze as many as possible of Lionel Messi, Carlos Tévez, Sergio Agüero, Gonzalo Higuaín, Ángel Di María, Ezequiel Lavezzi and Javier Pastore into their side, and finally started winning again when most of their great forwards had retired and they started picking a more balanced side.
As for Harry Maguire, aside from the Denmark game at Wembley in the Nations League, when has he ever played badly for England? Southgate treats England as much like a club side as possible, which ensures greater continuity and loyalty. Maguire remains a forceful aerial presence, complementing John Stones. He’s a safe and trusted option. Questions remain about Marc Guéhi (see Crystal Palace’s defeat to Newcastle on Saturday) and Fikayo Tomori, Tyrone Mings is injured and Levi Colwill, who I suspect will ultimately replace Maguire, is having to play at left-back because of the injuries to Ben Chilwell and Luke Shaw.
A quick question on why players seem to still be flooding to the Saudi Pro League. Seems like money has become the latest motivation, rather than passion. Isn’t this dangerous for the beautiful game? Joshua
I think it’s safe to say that, yes, for most players going to the Saudi Pro League, money is the major motivation. And, yes, there are all kinds of dangers inherent in that. But then what do you think motivates most players most of the time? Of course, certain players have affinities for certain clubs, or want to play at the highest level they can, or are intrigued by the prospect of playing for particular coaches, but money underlies almost everything in soccer – and it’s always been that way. Netflix’s The English Game may be a laboured and risibly cliched bit of television that takes inexplicable liberties with reality, but something it does get right is its representation of the flow of Scottish players to the clubs of the industrial north of England: when Fergus Suter left Partick in Glasgow for Darwen in Lancashire in 1878, he was doing so for cash – even though professionalism wouldn’t be legal for another seven years.