Driven to distraction by a failing ownership system
What Sam Cunningham learnt about football’s future by chasing a van around Wembley
The giant LED display on the back of a van that is driving around Wembley declares: England Needs The Football Pyramid. The St George’s flag – the original red-and-white one, not the to-rightwing-rage-inducing multicoloured one – sits behind images of James Maddison, Ivan Toney, John Stones, Ollie Watkins, Jarrod Bowen, Jarrad Branthwaite, Jordan Pickford and, last but not least, Jude Bellingham.
Each of those England players owing, in no small part, their careers to clubs outside the Premier League. Maddison at Coventry City. Stones at Barnsley. Bellingham at Birmingham City.
It is not hyperbole to suggest that were it not for Football League clubs those footballers would not be the global stars they are today.
Behind the advertising van is Wembley Stadium. Above it is grey sky. All around is driving rain. For fans of many beleaguered clubs – Reading, Sheffield Wednesday and Torquay United among them – supporting their football club in recent years is all grey skies.
Reading fans have been staging protests for almost a year about the mismanagement of their club by owner Dai Yongge, but it has morphed into a wider campaign about football’s ownership problem.
‘Sell Before We Dai’ decided to target England’s game against Belgium to highlight how Yongge has form when it comes to his clubs going out of business. The Chinese businessman, alongside his sister Dai Xiu Li, bought Belgian side KSV Roeselare in 2016 and it subsequently went bankrupt.
I decide to follow the van as it navigates the traffic-jammed roads around Wembley in the three hours before kick-off to see what happens. But it has not helped their cause that it is absolutely tipping it down. Sell Before We
Dai crowdsource funds, budgets are minimal and ideally stunts have maximum impact.
As I follow the van along Wembley Park Drive, many supporters do notice the displays as they walk by – with slogans like “No Birmingham City? No Bellingham” and “No Exeter City? No Watkins”.
But they do not want to stop for too long. They are already soaked enough. When the van pulls into a petrol station to give the fans a bit of shelter, a young man, with hood up and headphones on, stops to take a photo. Ian Wilson, 29, is a Reading fan who lives locally and is walking back from work. “It’s really good seeing it out and about with more people coming past going to the England game,” Wilson says.
“Not just us but a lot of clubs have been suffering with bad ownership for many years. It’s coming to a head and it’s really important to get as many people as possible understanding the situation and how much the Independent Regulator is needed.
“We’re not the first. You look at clubs like Bury, a few years ago, they went under and are having to make their way back. That’s the big thing: it could happen to any team. As a fan you have no control over who takes over your club.”
The abysmal weather preventing fans from congregating across the road from the advertising van to debate the various strands of the country’s football ownership issues, I decide to knock on the door of the cab to find out how it works, compelled either by a thirst for knowledge or to find any excuse to stop the last few millimetres of my clothes being saturated with rain.
Inside sits Kamran Iqbal (left). He invites me in from the cold. On the passenger seat is a laptop and he explains how it is connected to the giant display by a HDMI cable, the screens mirroring, the various displays on a loop. Iqbal set off from Sheffield at 11am. “It’s a bit of guerrilla marketing,” he says. “We want to get people to realise where football is going.
“I grew up in Sheffield so we’ve got a bit of experience with Sheffield Wednesday. A massive club. It’s entirely unfair when you get bad owners, it’s like a vanity project for them, they buy it to look good, but they don’t look into the history and what it means to the local community and how passionate the fans are.”
He adds: “With all the road closures around the stadium a two-minute drive takes about 20-30 minutes. It can get a bit challenging. It’s just a case of spreading the message where I can.”
Iqbal finds places to loiter in front of busy areas. Does he ever have any problems with the police? “We generally adhere to all road traffic regulations. The police know we’re not here to cause a big inconvenience. Plus free speech and all that! As long as it’s not hurting anyone and it’s not offensive it’s absolutely fine.”
He offers me a lift back up the road and we drive slowly through the traffic. When we are close to the Tube station he pulls to the side of the road to let me out. Behind, a red bus toots its horn and flashes its lights. I close the door, then climb to the Tube entrance to see the view fans get.
Iqbal drives slowly across the bridge that passes above Wembley Way, pauses, hazard lights flashing. The wide pathway to the stadium, flanked by food stalls and bars, stretches into the distance.
Fans walking beneath, many with the names of players on the back of shirts who would not be about to entertain them at Wembley were it not for a rich pyramid.
Heads down and hoods up, many don’t notice the warning signs. But then it’s often the case that fans don’t notice them until it’s too late.