THE MARGIN HAS JUST GOT CLOSER
ON Tuesday night, in an empty stadium on the banks of Bremen’s Weser river, Bayern Munich won their eighth straight Bundesliga title. Think about that for a moment. Since Jurgen Klopp and Dortmund last broke Bayern’s hegemony in 2012, a generation of children have started and finished primary school.
Great Britain has had three Prime Ministers and SIX different governments. Marcus Rashford has gone from eating school meals to campaigning for them.
As a demonstration of sporting excellence, it is clearly impressive. But from a competitive standpoint, Bayern’s dominance is, frankly, depressing. Sport – especially team sport – is not ballet, or opera, where the brilliance of the performer is the raison d’être. Brilliance is to be admired, and cherished. Nobody wants to see less of Robert Lewandowski or Thomas Muller. Nobody will ever forget Maradona.
But the true soul of the game is the contest; the agony, ecstasy and glorious unpredictability of the chase. It is Kevin Keegan slumped over the advertising hoardings, Michael Thomas waltzing through at Anfield, Leeds United blowing promotion with an inexplicable loss to ten-man Wigan.
For me, nothing will ever top a League One match between Brentford and Doncaster on the final day of 2012-13, when a missed penalty and a breakaway goal – both in the final 30 seconds – sent Donny up at Brentford’s expense and changed the destination of the title. Without brilliance, football can still thrill. Without competition, it grows boring. And that, as the ongoing mess in Scotland illustrates, is a serious problem.
Big beasts have always dominated, of course. But the sharp increase in revenue at the pinnacle of elite football has exacerbated the effect over the last ten years. Bayern’s run of titles is without precedent in German football; the previous best was three, achieved three times by Bayern and once by Borussia Monchengladbach.
In Italy, Juventus are on the cusp of a ninth straight Serie A title. Previously, the most anyone had managed was five. Paris Saint-Germain haven’t quite eclipsed Lyon’s record of seven successive Ligue 1 titles, but they have won seven of the last eight, by an average margin of 12.7 points.
Outrage
And whilst Barcelona and Real Madrid keep each other honest in La Liga, it is notable that Atletico Madrid are the only team in the last 15 years to break their stranglehold on silverware.
In the 15-year period prior to 2005, Valencia (twice),
Atletico and Deportivo La Coruna all won the league. England, largely thanks to a more egalitarian distribution of TV revenue, is the exception, but it would be naive to assume we will stay that way.
Over the past two seasons, Liverpool and Manchester City have posted the top three points totals in top-flight history, and a fourth is likely by the end of July. Historically, any suggestion of a European Super League was shot down with outrage and disdain. But if nobody except a handful of wealthy clubs can prosper, are we approaching a point where its formation would benefit the domestic game? Opposition to the idea has legitimately centred around the dependency of lower league teams on revenue trickled down from the Premier League. No Man United, no £5bn TV deal, redundancies at Rochdale. But things have changed. “Football is going to reset,” a manager in League One told me recently. “Nobody – and I mean nobody – has the money they did before Covid.
“For instance, what was a £3,000-a-week player in our division will now be an £800 to £1,000-a-week player. “Players reserve the right to say ‘I’m not going to sign for that’. But the problem they’ve got is that they’ll go to the next club and get offered the same – or even less. “It’s not going to be any different at Portsmouth, at Ipswich, at Sunderland. Yes, the sums are bigger. But the percentage decrease will be similar. They’ll have to cut the wages and they’ll have to cut the numbers. Simple as that.”
Treadmill
For the hundreds of players out of contract this summer, or the youngsters released to clear payroll, it is a bleak, life-changing situation.
But for clubs trapped on a deadly treadmill of spiralling wages, absorbitant agents fees and annual losses, it is an opportunity to finally rip out the UV drip, climb off life support and breath for themselves.
If lower league and Non-League football is self-sustaining, the fat cats do what they want. And if the Premier League ever becomes as grimly predictable as the Bundesliga, we should encourage – not oppose – their defection to a Super League.
Because a Premier League club should always believe it is capable of winning the title. A Championship club should never be forced into poverty by parachute payments. And a club in League One, League Two or the National League should never feel the top-flight is an impossible dream. Because dreaming is what sport is about. Dominance like Bayern’s induces only the cold sleep of the dead.