Narcissism and the modern game
or… money is the root of all idiots
I was reading through some back posts on other people’s blogs and came across an item from November 2006 by Jack Pickard entitled Bigotry in the UK where he talks about those who seem to feel that they are so secure in their public idolatry that they can treat everyone else with disdain.
What got me motivated to write was Jack’s mention of Mike Newell, the then boss of struggling Luton Town Football Club, and his sexist comments about female game officials. This is one of those examples where you can honestly say, “it’s not like the old days”, and be pretty sure you’re not just looking back with rose coloured specs.
When I was about 9 years old my Dad started taking me to watch Luton play. He used to say they were the strongest side in the entire country. They held everybody else up.
We used to go to all the home games and I supported them right through the 4th Division and onwards and upwards until I finally got more interested in boys. I even got to be mascot at some games. I had all the kit but it was designed for girls; black and white dress and matching hat and socks. Very trendy during the sixties (darn, that dates me).
On occasion we used to stand with the the guys who had played for Luton in the past, Joe Payne, Billy Waugh and others, all of whom were real gents. Even when Luton were getting thrashed, which they did quite a lot back then, you never heard a swear word or an unkind comment. They would applaud good play from the opponents, shake their heads at fouls which, compared to the fouls these days, were mere tickles, and commiserate politely when we lost…. again.
Then along came the era of the Superstar footballer which started I guess with George Best. At Luton Town we had Talcy Malcy (Malcolm MacDonald). No doubting the guy was a good player. He had the longest throw in you were likely to see but like Best, he was considered to be one of the pretty boys. The marketing machine got going, the money poured on top of him, he started to believe his own hype and became the same as most of the big money (for that time) players, who were so up their own backsides it was untrue.
I used to collect autographs and had gone round asking the team to sign my book. I got Max Dougan, Roger Hoy and Tony Read then Macdonald sauntered over and said “I suppose you want me to sign as well” and gave a big sigh. Even at that age I didn’t stand for bullshit, said “no thanks” and walked off leaving MacDonald with his mouth hanging open and my father with a proud grin.
Thing was MacDonald was a good player, he got snatched away from Luton fast enough as did others that they trained up such as the Rioch brothers, but at that time, he had no reason to be the big ‘I am’ that he thought he was.
If anyone had the right to strut it was Joe Payne. He still holds the record for the most goals in one game - 10, (yes, we won that one, Luton Town 12 - Bristol Rovers 0) yet it wasn’t until he had died that anyone even mentioned it. I had been completely oblivious. He didn’t walk round with a t-shirt proclaiming ‘Ten Goal Payne’ on it. He wasn’t constantly splashed all over the newspapers and magazines, or commentating on Match of the Day.
Nor was he paid a King’s ransom for his amazing feat. The last time I met him, he was working at Electrolux in Luton with my mother.
There is a saying that “With great power comes great responsibility”. In the case of football you can change that to “With great money comes great disdain”. The male of the species in particular doesn’t start to grow up until it hits 30. Throwing millions at a 20 year old is asking for trouble. You only have to look at that revolting example of humanity, Wayne Rooney, to see the effects. They believe they’re slightly better than God and, as with the very best dictators, are secure in the knowledge that anyone and anything is theirs for the buying, or failing that, the beating.
The excuse for plying them with so much cash is that they only have a limited time span careerwise so they need to be compensated. I’m sorry but the money these guys make in a year is more than ordinary people make in their entire working life. What’s wrong with setting up an early paid pension fund for footballers to support them when they can no longer manage to kick seven bells out of their opponents? You notice I don’t include sportswomen here, they don’t seem to suffer the same monetary afflictions. So much for equal rights.
The Football Association have got to start taking responsibility for encouraging a generation of louts and bigots and paying them handsomely to be so. When they cross the line they need to be kicked out and barred from further play for a specified period of time, much like athletes caught taking drugs.
Reduce their money, reduce the cost at the turnstiles. Have you seen the price of a match ticket recently? I used to pay £1 to get in and that was in the Bobber’s Club (posh bit). Now you have to take out a small mortgage.
Of course, to be fair I have to say that it’s not just something restricted to football although they seem to provide the most appalling specimens. The music industry is another example of kids getting way above their station based on the cash coming their way. Luckily, in their case, it only lasts for 5 minutes, so they pretty quickly get the obscurity many of them deserve by which time they’ve blown their cash and reality bites.
I remember, back in the old days when bands were bands and they used to tour the country in beaten up old…………………………………………..
I’ll save that rant for another day. 
