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  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Imagine that: Substitutions are never introduced to football … and the game is rid of greed and disloyalty

  Chapter 2

  Imagine that: Goal-line technology clears up football’s greatest debates … and leaves fans disillusioned by an unjust sport

  Chapter 3

  Imagine that: Footballers represent their place of birth … and Africa surpasses its former colonisers

  Chapter 4

  Imagine that: Zaire concedes after comical free kick against Brazil … and African football regresses for years to come

  Chapter 5

  Imagine that: Football moves to soften its image midway through the 20th century … and a nation’s footballing identity is transformed

  Chapter 6

  Imagine that: Torino’s greats survive beyond the 1940s … and set the standard for football across the globe

  Chapter 7

  Imagine that: An ephedrine-fuelled Maradona leads Argentina to glory in ’94 … and football’s history books become worthless

  Chapter 8

  Imagine that: Honduras rout El Salvador in 1970 World Cup qualifiers … and a brutal conflict is avoided

  Chapter 9

  Imagine that: Messi is unable to afford growth hormone treatment … and Spanish football loses its charitable nature

  Chapter 10

  Imagine that: Robben Island remains a football-free zone … and the leaders of the anti-apartheid movement remain immobilised

  Other books in the series:

  Copyright

  Imagine that …

  Some of history’s greatest stories are the tales of what might have been. The agonising missed chances, the harrowingly close shaves, the vital complications that affected a major outcome – the course of history is a precarious one. Seemingly insignificant incidents can have the largest unforeseen impacts.

  Scientists have pondered whether the flap of a butterfly’s wings on one continent could lead to a tornado on another, and these chains of cause and effect remain fascinating to us. In this book and the others in the series I take a look at those moments where the smallest tweak would have caused history to pan out very differently.

  Hence the title, Imagine That …

  Michael Sells

  Chapter 1

  Imagine that …

  Substitutions are never introduced to football … and the game is rid of greed and disloyalty

  It was a change that transformed the game and brought with it a wealth of new footballing lingo: the benchwarmer, the tinkerman, the supersub, the tactical change, the last throw of the dice, the impact player. It brought a whole new dimension to a manager’s job description and the game of football in general. The role and form of the substitution has come a long way in the years since its introduction over half a century ago.

  Substitutions were first introduced by the International Federation of Association Football (FIFA) in 1953 in the run-up to the 1954 World Cup finals held in Switzerland. The qualifying stages were used as a test ground for the new idea, allowing teams to list twelve players in their match-day squad so that one player could be replaced should they receive an injury. There was obvious sense behind the idea. It meant that games would remain competitive provided that no more than one player from each team suffered injury, while removing the need for players to play on through serious injuries.

  Twelve years later, on 21 August 1965, substitutions made their entrance on to the English domestic scene in a second-division fixture at Bolton’s Burnden Park stadium. Only a few minutes of the match had passed when the goalkeeper for visiting side Charlton suffered an injury. He would have to come off. It was the moment the Football Association (FA) had been waiting for, a chance to see the new concept in action. There was one small problem, though; Charlton hadn’t brought a substitute goalkeeper with them. Nevertheless, a substitution was made and midfielder Keith Peacock made his way on to the pitch as a reshuffle saw left-back John Hewie don the gloves. In rather predictable fashion, Bolton struck four past the makeshift keeper as the game finished 4–2, but Keith Peacock had cemented his place in pub quizzes for years to come. The scoreline, however, highlighted the fact that there were still a few issues to iron out.

  At the end of the following season, in the summer of 1967, the FA decided that a change was needed and gathered to discuss how best to proceed. The headline decision was that substitutions would remain a part of English football. They provided a common-sense solution to an unavoidable problem. However, the first two seasons to have featured substitutes had not been without controversy – and in a manner far more worrying than Charlton’s missing goalie. An element of gamesmanship had slowly crept into proceedings. More and more injuries were occurring in seemingly innocuous situations, players apparently feigning injury under instruction so that they could be replaced. Suddenly the burden had fallen upon referees not only to spot fouls, but also to judge whether the resulting injuries were genuine. The FA decided that from the 1966/7 season onwards teams would be allowed to make substitutions for tactical reasons as well as due to injury. It was a turning point in football, representing the beginning of a more professional era. As in the earlier international matches, the substitutions ensured that teams would not be needlessly punished for their players’ injuries, but also afforded managers a new level of control once games were under way. They could tinker with their formations, replacing a defender with a striker when they were losing and vice versa when they wished to protect a lead. The game was becoming a far more fluid entity, evolving over the course of each 90-minute match.

  This is how it remained, on the domestic scene at least, for a couple of decades until towards the end of the 1980s when the Football Association began to tinker with the rules almost year upon year. In 1988 a period of great change in English football, and eventually worldwide, was nudged into action. It began with an increase in the number of substitutes allowed, from one to two, essentially increasing the match-day squad to thirteen. This made the latter stages of football matches far more competitive – depending of course upon what type of players the manager selected for the bench. There was still no ruling over substitute goalkeepers, so trembling outfield players pulling on oversized jerseys and gloves remained a common sight. Then, in 1992, the top division in England was renamed and reformatted. The First Division became the Premier League. Intended to give the English game a glossy new finish following a decade marred by violence and resultant exclusion from European competition, the emphasis was on excitement. It was the beginning of an effort to neatly package the game for television and this transition period reformed an abundance of aspects, from gameplay to financial structuring. Naturally, the subs bench received an update as a further spot was added, with clubs now allowed to name and use three substitutes. As the substitution rules altered, squad sizes swelled. Whereas in the 1960s and 70s squads were typically no more than fourteen or fifteen players strong, at the start of the Premier League era the average squad size was nearer to 25 or 30. With more spaces available in a match-day squad, it made sense to retain more players overall.

  A couple of years later, at the start of the 1994/5 season, goalkeepers received a boost. It became mandatory for teams to include a substitute goalkeeper, a change that had been a long time coming and marked a return to the original purpose of substitutions: to keep games competitive. The change was short-lived, however, as the stipulation for a substitute goalkeeper to be named was dropped the following season. Football’s focus had changed from competitiveness to drama.

  Two seasons later the overhaul continued as clubs were allowed to name five substitutes, although still only three of these could be used in a match. This was the final change to substit
ute ruling for just over a decade until the bench size was increased to seven in 2008, at which size it currently remains. Although the changes seem small, their cumulative effect was significant. By 2004, international friendly matches had become a farce. The ruling on substitutions in international friendlies was far more relaxed than the domestic rulings and resulted in games like England’s against Australia in 2003. The game was televised as well as being covered online in the form of text updates. The Guardian was one of the outlets covering the game via their website, and set the game up in underwhelming fashion:

  Welcome everyone to what will surely prove to be the most meaningless friendly in a long time. Sven-Goran Eriksson plans to make so many substitutions, the linesman’s numbers board should ideally carry a strobe warning for epileptics.

  The prediction proved to be spot on as Eriksson sent a completely different eleven out in the second half to the one which had started the first. The result was a disjointed performance that allowed Australia to claim their first-ever victory against England, by three goals to one. Far from the original intention of making games more competitive, substitutions were now devaluing and eradicating any sense of competition. FIFA acted to limit the number of subs in international friendlies to six, still showing lenience towards the experimental nature of the games, but the world of football is still struggling to manage the knock-on effects of the squad culture brought about by substitutions.

  The current situation is by no means the extreme. Football could become even more of a squad game, and some influential figures would like to see this happen. At the start of the 2012 season new regulations came into play in Serie A, Italian football’s top tier. The maximum number of substitutes that could be named was increased to twelve. The change was the result of lobbying from club presidents, most notably Aurelio de Laurentiis of Napoli. He outlined his thoughts on the matter afterwards, saying that ‘it was unfair to send [squad] players to the stands as it threatened to see their value plummet. It [the rule change] proves it is not impossible to change the world of football, but we have stood still for too long.’ It is certainly true that including a fringe players among the substitutes allows a club to give the impression both to the player and to potential buyers that he is more important than he actually is.

  Even so, the new arrangement is far from universally beneficial. The size of the bench allows clubs to arrive at matches with what is essentially an entire B team prepared to step in, but many teams do not have sufficient squad depth to do so. It benefits the heavyweights of the division, such as AC Milan, Internazionale, Juventus and de Laurentiis’ Napoli, enabling them to assert their dominance over smaller opposition. As de Laurentiis also admitted, it enables clubs to inflate a player’s value via match-day inclusion, a feat which further increases the financial gulf between the top teams and the chasing pack.

  Club presidents may celebrate this change, but it contributes to the most damaging side-effect of the substitution: the increasing trend for players’ worth to be judged by their monetary value rather than by their footballing ability. The hoarding of players is a pandemic that has swept the top leagues of the world. Whether a club is holding on to excess players to maximise its match-day options, to prevent opposition teams from employing them or simply because it is rich enough to do so, the effect is always the same. Talent is wasted. Players fester on the sidelines, going through the motions each week in training with no real hope of breaking into the first team; it is a culture which breeds apathy and disillusionment. The only way clubs can keep the superfluous squad members happy is by paying them handsomely. While some will still argue that the world’s greatest players deserve their astronomical contracts, few would advocate such wages for a benchwarmer, of which there are plenty.

  One of the most pilloried beneficiaries of the squad system is Winston Bogarde. He enjoyed great success early in his career, including a Champions League win and two league titles with Ajax, and a further two Spanish titles and a domestic cup with Barcelona. These are impressive honours; indeed, to even play for such clubs is an achievement that many players can only dream of. This made the final chapter of Bogarde’s career all the more troubling. He secured a transfer to English side Chelsea on a contract believed to be around £40,000 a week. Having played in the top divisions of Holland, Spain and Italy (managing a handful of games with AC Milan) it made sense for him to test his talents in another of Europe’s elite leagues, but what followed was far from testing. With first-team opportunities at a premium during his four-year stay at Chelsea, other clubs began to sniff around. On approaching him, however, they usually received the same response PSV Eindhoven did in 2004: ‘It would be great to play for PSV but only if they pay my full salary.’ In the end Bogarde saw out his contract, making a measly eight starts and three substitute appearances during his four-year stay. This worked out at over £1 million in wages for every starting appearance.

  With clubs acting like banks rather than sporting institutions, it is no wonder that for some players football itself has become a secondary interest. Nor is it any surprise that club loyalty has dwindled. In his autobiography, former Leeds United manager (1974–8) Jimmy Armfield spoke of contract negotiations with the club’s long-serving player Paul Madeley. As was standard practice, Armfield began discussions with talk of wages but Madeley did not want to hear it. ‘He replied that he had no intention of leaving Leeds,’ said Armfield, ‘so he might as well sign the contract and let me fill in the details.’ There was no hint of careerism in Madeley’s thought process, just undying loyalty. This tale gains greater significance in contrast to Bogarde’s sorry stint at Chelsea when you consider Madeley’s role at Leeds. He was nicknamed ‘Mr Versatility’, happy to appear in any position and fulfil any role for the club, making 711 appearances during his seventeen years at the club. In an era when positions were synonymous with shirt numbers, he wore seven different numbers in his nine different cup final appearances – only one shirt number fewer than Bogarde had starts.

  It would be untrue to suggest that loyalty does not still have a place in football. Arsenal defender Tony Adams echoed Madeley, saying: ‘I will sign every contract Arsenal put in front of me without reading it.’ Italy has produced a number of one-club players including Francesco Totti, Daniele de Rossi (both AS Roma) and Paolo Maldini (AC Milan). The core of Barcelona’s record-breaking side has never played for another club, including the likes of Xavi, Andrés Iniesta, Victor Valdés and Carles Puyol. Small glimpses of loyalty can still be seen across football, but it is now seen as quirky for a player to spend their entire career at one club.

  Football is a shorter career than most. The majority of players will sign their first contract at seventeen or eighteen and play until their early- to mid-thirties. All in all that amounts to little over a decade in the game, so arguably a slightly inflated wage during that time might be justified. But with competitive playing time limited to 90 minutes once, maybe twice, a week for eight or nine months a year, that decade begins to look a lot shorter. When you factor in the substitutes’ bench, it becomes evident that there are many players who are paid handsomely to hone skills that they will use for only a few hours each year. Before substitutes were introduced, a squad would stand at around thirteen or fourteen players. That was to allow for a couple of replacements over the course of a season. As the number of allowed match-day substitutes increased, so too did the squad size. Up to a point this was sensible; injuries and suspensions made three or four reserve players a necessity. However, as match-day squads have increased to include seven or even twelve substitutes, the squads have increased out of all proportion. At the start of the English Premier League’s 2009/10 season, the teams’ squad lists made for staggering reading. Two of the league’s more traditionally successful outfits, Arsenal and Liverpool, had registered over 60 players each. Effectively that would enable them to field an entirely different first team in five consecutive games, far more players than any team needs to employ.

  The kn
ock-on effect is dramatic and suggests that Winston Bogarde was just the tip of the iceberg. Many of the players on the books of these Premier League clubs are full internationals, a large number of whom will settle for a handful of starts per season. These are players with the ability to cut it on the international scene but who instead are content to forfeit regular football for a hefty wage and a cushy lifestyle. However, other squad players are not international quality. Many are signed for the sole purpose of providing emergency back-up; strength in numbers. Although improvements in training and coaching techniques may have led to a rise in the overall standard of football and, in turn, more top-quality footballers, the number of truly great players has not increased five-fold. The players warming the benches and filling the training pitches of top-flight clubs are the players who 20 or 30 years ago would have been cult heroes at lower-league clubs. They would have been the iconic players that attract fans to those clubs with lesser means, providing a vital cash boost. Now, though, these clubs are priced out as the players hoard their money elsewhere. The mindset that it has engendered, one that has starved lower-league clubs of their stars, was so neatly summed up by none other than Winston Bogarde:

  This world is about money, so when you are offered those millions you take them. Few people will ever earn so many. I am one of the few fortunates who do. I may be one of the worst buys in the history of the Premiership, but I don’t care.

  It is often difficult to grasp at first the true ramifications of new rules and concepts in football. Some rulings fade quickly out of use, but substitutions have edged further and further into football. What was once a simple solution to combat injuries is now the source of greedy, disloyal and disaffected footballers.