So, I watched most of Tuesday night’s Panorama investigation into English football financial skull-duggery while barely stifling my incredulity. To think that we could be hoodwinked in this manner by a bunch of so-called professionals, who are out to make a quick buck while the going’s good. And that there are people out there who value a bit of cash over integrity, thoroughness of thought and deed, and a sense of fair play. Who knew?
And the football agents aren’t much better either!
Boom-boom!
C’mon Panarama, you have to do better than this. Sure there’s corruption in football. Sure there are some shady operators. Sure I wouldn’t trust Harry Redknapp or Sam Allardyce to run a charity match, but that, and the secret camera footage shown does not make them the arch crooks you’re making out. Sam comes off worse, I have to say, but what did Harry do? When asked if he would be interested in player x if player x was available, and you never know player x might be available, nudge nudge, Harry leaned back, twitched a little, and just said “yeah he’s a good player, of course I’d have him”. Uh-oh Harry! Perhaps you should have said he’s a donkey with spoons for feet, then no-one would have minded, eh? P’raps you’ll be more street-wise next time.
And Sam’s son, Craig. Fancy him bigging up his links with his Dad! Lord. What. Do. You. Expect. Him. To. Do. You’re offering him business, and he’s trying to impress you. You’re suggesting that you could be interested in deals with Bolton, and whaddya know, he’s the son of the manager. And strike me down if he doesn’t mention it a little in the hope of getting some business. Did you think he wouldn’t?
Yeah, yeah, alright, so he’s probably just some talentless feck who’s coining it off the riches and skills of others, and for that, I say let him swing if need be. But the whole programme just missed the mark. Here’s my favourite moment: about two-thirds of the way through, we get to the part where Mike Newell, the Luton Town manager, goes public with the news that he knows of people in the game on the take. Newell, it should be pointed out here, isn’t in on the BBC’s little game, and is just acting apparently out of priniciple, and perhaps frustration. The voice-over in the programme makes the following remark, or words to this effect:
This is disastrous news. Now it’s going to be even harder to persuade anyone to take a bung
Now please jump in any time, here, but isn’t the editorial stance of this programme that football is rife with bung-taking, backhanders, brown envelopes, etc? Hardly the sort of situation in which you’d say it would suddenly be “even harder” to get anyone to act corruptly?
Actually, I lied, My favourite bit was when the moronic agent at the center of it all realised the undercover hero’s button had “went all red”, but was apparently too soused or short on slices to work out that he was being set up. Especially when all our hero could do was mumble something, say he didn’t know what it was, and fumble nervously with a pack of B&H. I won’t lose any sleep if that guy gets it, I must say, but let’s not think that it any way has Panorama exploded any lids off the modern game.
