Supporting workers over the institutions they work for is my inclination. That proclivity occasionally clashes with fans who would happily let their club exploit labour.
Finding sympathy for professional footballers is difficult. Athletes are paid for something many fans would do for free; it’s challenging to argue someone earning thousands to millions is exploited by those above them. The argument is often a losing battle, but one worth fighting.
Supporters tend to view players’ financial motives as mercenary, transitory, and worthy of suspicion. Fans have more in common with players than those filling seats on their club’s board, yet the tendency is siding against labour when sports equipment is introduced.
Billionaires over millionaires; the disposition is peculiar but explains why fantasy sports is successful. The invitation to make players less like people and more like commodities is so commonplace, I conclude something inside fans aspires to be management. “We,” “us,” and “our” aren’t used to show solidarity with the work force; they display loyalty to one’s institution—not necessarily agreement, but fidelity.
In Club v. Players there is near consensus about how ruthless teams should be, even if stepping on workers. When Club v. Players turns to Association v. Clubs, the association or federation assumes the role of institution. In that context fans rarely view clubs as acting in good faith, they are painted like labour (i.e. mercenary, transitory, and worthy of suspicion), and a similar dynamic is established.
The European Super League has resurfaced.
Sports development company A22 released a new proposal, reimagining how European football is structured. From their website, A22 was “formed to sponsor and assist in the creation of the European Super League. In its advisory capacity, A22 focuses on the overall structure, operating, and financial aspects of the potential new competition.”
This announcement follows the bungled attempt in 2021, in which 15 clubs announced they would leave traditional European competition for their own. The launch went horribly. Its messaging was terrible—and I’m being kind—there were too many interpretations of what was happening and how. Clarity never manifested itself.
What was understood is promotion and relegation were eliminated, and as such the first proposal was dead on arrival. To lure top clubs away from the established system an initial incentive was required. For those 15 clubs it was being a founding member and insulating themselves from relegation, but their miscalculation was failing to understand the appearance of competition is more important than whether it materialises.
Fans protested, media outlets compressed the narrative, and within 72 hours the breakaway group had splintered and disbanded. They weren’t prepared for apples after upsetting an applecart.
Real Madrid, Barcelona, and Juventus stayed back to pick up what was left.
A22 Sports Management was the response.
To know where one is, one must know from where they came.
In 1916, South America created the Confederación Sudamericana de Fútbol (CONMEBOL). This bolstered the continent’s ability to move as a block within the Fédération internationale de football association (FIFA). Europe observed CONMEBOL and proceeded to create their own version. What came forth was the Union of European Football Associations (UEFA) in 1954.
The first significant project UEFA embarked upon was creating an annual continental cup. A year after its formation, UEFA had the European Cup for the 1955/56 season. For almost 40 years it was the continent’s preeminent club trophy, but UEFA rebranded in 1991. They hired newly founded sports marketing agency TEAM Marketing AG to repackage the European Cup, and the UEFA Champions League was invented. The new-look tournament began during the 1992/93 season and has since grown into one of the biggest money makers in club football.
Via UEFA’s self-published 2020/21 financial report, the Champions League, Europe League, and Super Cup grossed €3.2 billion during the 2020/21 campaign. The portion distributed to clubs was €2.45 billion, competition costs were €260 million, and solidarity payments ate another €230 million. To “further develop the game at the base of the footballing pyramid and for the benefit of European football as a whole,” UEFA took €174 million.
Last season, UEFA projected the revenue from their three major competitions would be around €3.5 billion. Real Madrid won the Champions League and Super Cup, taking €87.7 million in winnings, per AS. Having the world’s biggest club appear 14 times increased UEFA’s ability to generate revenue, yet Madrid’s cut would represent two-and-a-half percent of €3.5 billion.
European clubs are not inventions of their leagues. The Football Association, for example, does not expand by auctioning locations in cities around England (as happens in Major League Soccer); clubs choose to participate. Their founding often predates the competitions in which they play, this makes the case of being an independent contractor quite strong. If understood as independent, Madrid president Florentino Perez would correctly conclude his club’s two-and-a-half percent allocation is unfavourable. This is not to suggest Real Madrid are broke. The Spanish giants are enviable in terms of marketing, branding, mass appeal, and consistency on the pitch compared to any other club. They would thrive no matter the format, but that isn’t quite the matter.
UEFA are an intermediary—taking their fee, allocating resources based on their criteria, and putting association vitality above club vitality. This isn’t 1954 when the primary source of football was the radio. Football has evolved. Television and the Internet have considerably shrank the distance between the fan and their football club. A middleman is not strictly necessary. Clubs have grown in stature to operate competitions by themselves without UEFA taking meat from the stewpot.
In the way workers should unionise to earn what’s fair from their labour, football clubs (in relation to UEFA) should do the same. Power should be in their hands if they can organise. Look no further than England. The Championship is the highest level in the English Football League. The level above exists because the top 22 clubs broke away in 1992 to form their own league—the Premier League. Changes in structure are not uncommon, nor are they unprecedented.
Ultimately, there is no way to conduct European football without unpleasant side effects. Clubs no longer exist as community centres; they exist for profit, which necessitates business interests be placed above sporting merit and collegiality. UEFA was necessary to assemble continental competitions; seventy years from its formation clubs have the wherewithal to organise themselves.
Naomi Klein’s The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism outlines how governments take advantage of—or manufacture—crisis to implement regressive policies while the people suffering from crisis are otherwise distracted. Trivialising Klein, the same has happened with European football. In the haze of fans killing the initial Super League proposal, UEFA’s position was strengthened. They used the upheaval fomented by Europe’s top clubs as an opportunity to implement the Swiss model.
Starting in 2024/25, the Champions League will increase from 125 games to 225. These 100 games necessitate four additional matchdays—certain to exacerbate an already congested schedule. It replaces eight groups of four with 36 teams in one table. Not every team will play each other, but the points are registered the same. Lastly, the model reserves two spots for clubs who didn’t earn Champions League via their domestic league, but whose historical performances in UEFA competitions over a set period give them access.
It appears many of the points raised when the Super League was announced were repackaged with UEFA’s branding, named after Switzerland, and effected without much backlash, but last I checked granting positions based on historical performance was anathema.
The inadequacy of European football’s present format is evident, and a change is gonna come once sang the singer. UEFA have the Swiss model. A22 have presented a new competition. The old way is indeed old, something new will emerge. It is a matter of which and when.
I find potentiality an alluring quality. Fans have proven the Super League won’t fly without their consent, and A22 was created in direct response to protest. This shows mobilising to shape new ideas is possible. That feels more favourable than dealing with an entity who with their power can do what they please without permission or consultation.
Perhaps my suspicion of entrenched institutions and a general distrust of UEFA is at play (I acknowledge my bias), but A22 heard the criticism and corrected initial missteps. I’m yet to see evidence of UEFA hearing fans and reworking their operation. In fact, they’ve done the opposite with their new model.
Many who I’ve engaged on this topic acknowledge the failures of UEFA, and share my distrust, yet find themselves doubtful about football clubs doing for self. I understand why the trepidation is there, but I tend to think the devil you don’t know is sometimes better than the one you do. I know A22’s purpose is making as much money as possible—that is clear—but UEFA have the same goal with stronger mechanisms at their disposal.
It feels backward destroying a vehicle which could improve European football if fans were vocal, but the wider community is content being driven the wrong way while complaining in the back seat. I’d prefer getting out and going in the other car. At least those drivers seem to listen. 🎯
I think you might get something out of this multi-part article appearing currently in the TransAtlantic. It covers this topic of the Super League and its relation to social football...
https://thetransatlantic.substack.com/p/politics-of-the-european-super-league