Deep down, all football clubs just want to be like Chelsea

13 April 2012

As we recover from Edgbaston's dramas and savour the prospect of a stunning Olympics, we find summer's splendours punctuated by a small, sour voice from the bleak midwinter. Peter Kenyon is lecturing the poor relations of English football.

Main men: Chelsea owner Roman Abramovich and Chief Executive Peter Kenyon

Main men: Chelsea owner Roman Abramovich and Chief Executive Peter Kenyon

Asked for his thoughts on the chronic absence of competition at the summit of the Premier League, Chelsea's chief executive wagged a censorious finger.

'Other teams in England should be knocking on our door, teams like Tottenham, Newcastle, Villa, Everton,' he said. 'It's more about them getting their houses in order rather than us coming down to their level.'

'Other teams in England should be knocking on our door, teams like Tottenham, Newcastle, Villa, Everton,' he said. 'It's more about them getting their houses in order rather than us coming down to their level.'

Now, we should forgive him his pomposity, since pomposity is Pete's default mode. Likewise his arrogant condescension, another of his minor foibles.

But we must have no truck with the extraordinary notion that the Kenyons of this world have got it right, that what he and his chums have done these past few seasons has set an example which the English game might profitably copy.

The facts are simple and unchallenged. Roman Abramovich bought the ailing football club in July 2003. In the financial year 2003-04, the club posted a loss of £87.8million. In the year 2004-05, they lost £140.4m, the biggest deficit in football history. In 2005-06, the loss was £80.2m - 'We're moving in the right direction,' remarked Kenyon. And in 2006-07, the last figures available, they lost £74.8m.

Abramovich is estimated to have spent £578m up to June 2007, with several millions more over the past year. In 2006-07, their wages bill was £133m, which represented 71 per cent of turnover.

To understand that kind of spending, we might consider a story published elsewhere in these pages, telling of how the Brazilian defender Alcides - a player currently 'on loan' to PSV Eindhoven but who insists he has a contract with Chelsea - is wondering if the London club seriously intend to use his services.

He has never kicked a ball for them, never worn their shirt, yet still they are said to be paying him up to £75,000 a week - or around £4m per year - to play for another football team. IT may be that Abramovich made so much money that he can treat such sums with disdain.

He may well be the kind of man who wouldn't quibble over half a billion. After all, it's only money, and as the cringingly loyal Kenyon explains: 'When he bought Chelsea he wanted it to be not just a successful football team but a force for good. He recognises how powerful sport can be in changing the social aspects of life and the influences it has on youth.'

That's Roman for you, a Gandhi in Gucci. Yet even as we boggle at his altruism, we look again at those staggering losses. And we wonder about the long-term security of a club whose prosperity is entirely dependent upon the benign whim and personal generosity of a Russian oligarch. Which brings us back to Kenyon.

The football world cackled at the close of the Champions League final in Moscow, when he led the defeated Chelsea team up to the dais, then lowered his gleaming skull so that a meaningless medal might be hung around his sodden collar. Why, some even felt a stab of pity, so ludicrous was the sight.

But now he forfeits any sympathy. 'Get your own houses in order . . . we're not coming down to your level.' It is worse than arrogance, it is wildeyed, chest-thumping self-delusion.

Essentially, he is saying: 'Find your own oligarch. Get him to empty his pockets. Don't worry about losses, there's millions more where that lot came from. And when you've spent your way to the top, don't forget to look down on the rabble who weren't so lucky.'

It is the depressing philosophy of a rather sad man. You see, he really believes this patronising tosh. He actually believes that he and his loadsamoney club represent what the rest of English football would secretly love to become.

And here is the most depressing thing of all. Peter Kenyon may just be right.

DUNCAN FLETCHER has not always enjoyed a warm reception in these quarters. But the former England coach knows his stuff, as his reflections on Steve Harmison will demonstrate.

'He must ask himself why he always needs to be dropped to feel motivated enough to do well for England,' said Fletcher.

'He has got to learn that you have to be able to turn it on in every game you play for your country and not just occasionally prove people wrong after you've been given a kick up the backside by the selectors.'

Harmison will differ, of course, but that analysis seems just about perfect.

MANY people believe that Newcastle's continued employment of Joey Barton vividly illustrates the ethical bankruptcy of professional football.

It is, they tell us, a simple matter - an odious thug who offends on a serial basis should not be presented as a role model in black and white stripes. We may respect Kevin Keegan's compassionate stance, his determination to offer Barton yet another chance, even if we suspect that it amounts to little more than an acknowledgement that his team are woefully short of midfield talent.

Trouble: Joey Barton

Trouble: Joey Barton

Equally, we may sympathise with the dilemma of the Newcastle board, whose initial instinct was to sack him but who realised that other Premier League clubs would be queuing up to hurl money at the freely available player. Certainly, we must accept that the situation is more complicated than it might appear and the extended suspension the FA are likely to impose will make it no clearer.

But one important question has yet to be answered. Why did the Newcastle owner Mike Ashley try so hard to impose a major pay cut as his price for keeping Barton? Why did he imagine that paying him, say, half of his £65,000 weekly wage, would somehow wipe the slate?

If the player is beyond the pale, then he has to go. If not, then he must stay. What he can't do is inhabit some moral halfway house, by which his services are retained but his rewards are diminished.

But perhaps we should not be surprised. In his brief and unimpressive tenure at St James' Park, Ashley has demonstrated a disturbing ability to make the worst of a bad job.

His inept treatment of Joey Barton shows that he has not lost his touch.

ALEC STEWART thought it 'criminal'. Geoffrey Boycott said he would have slit his throat if he'd even thought of doing it. And a long queue of venerable cricketers expressed their disgust with Kevin Pietersen.

I doubt that any player has ever been so bitterly criticised after scoring 94 invaluable Test runs. Indeed, Pietersen's reckless, extravagant and ultimately doomed attempt to reach his century with a six may well be remembered long after this series is committed to Wisden.

The public were perhaps more charitable. Pietersen is an entertainer who disdains orthodoxy and obeys instinct. Such men must be encouraged, even when they infuriate.

Reckless: Kevin Pietersen

Reckless: Kevin Pietersen

And yet there is a feeling that he is perhaps a touch too brash, too firmly wedded to the notion of 'celebrity'.

This, after all, is a man who once requested an introduction to Simon Cowell, which amounts to an admission of extreme naffness.

Now if, say, Andrew Flintoff had committed a similar error, then forgiveness would have been automatic. Fred is regarded as a good lad, whose cheery decency far outweighs his human failings. But about Pietersen we are far less sure, and not just because he is a South African who ought to be playing for South Africa.

It may be that he has no desire for public approval. But if he seeks it, then he should reflect upon the views of Stewart, a pro's pro who squeezed the last ounce from his considerable talent. 'He's too good for that sort of nonsense,' said Stewart. 'And he'll get a lot better. When he's a bit more mature.'

For the sake of Kevin Pietersen and English cricket, that day cannot come too soon.

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