Scudamore gives bang for the Buck

ANYONE who was present at Richard Scudamore’s leaving party last Wednesday will know exactly why he was considered worth a £5million farewell. In a video tribute to the executive chairman of the Premier League, as the numbers and the graphs flashed up on big screens showing the financial growth under his stewardship, owners and their money men looked on in wonder. They cannot believe what this league is making, and they are in awe of the man who has got them into this position. european leagues are like weasels in a sack trying to claim a piece of what english football takes for granted. They have laid waste to their own competitions, bullied FIFA and UEFA, considered breakaways, indulged in carve-ups and betrayals, and all because they cannot find a way to match the Premier League’s success. one clip of film ran briefly on a loop. It was the press conference in which Scudamore announced the latest domestic TV deal. ‘The figure is £5.17billion,’ said Scudamore. ‘I’ll repeat that. Five. Point one seven. Billion.’ The screens were high on the wall. All eyes were raised to them as if in worship. At that point, if they could have chaired him, shoulder-high, out of the hall and through the streets of London, they would have. Those who think that anyone could have cut Scudamore’s deals do not know this business. These are hard-nosed folk. Daniel Levy (right) was there, famous for driving the most unsparing bargains, even with those he might call friends. He doesn’t give Tottenham’s money up lightly. He did, they all did — the payment was passed by the remuneration committee and wasn’t even put to a vote — because they recognise the work Scudamore has done. no, anyone couldn’t have done it. They know that. This isn’t about whether the deal is right or wrong, or even ethically justifiable. Fans may be outraged, and that is understandable, too, but this is a part of football’s world that is not for them. This is about the suits; and Scudamore is King Suit. The compromise that Chelsea chairman Bruce Buck fashioned, in which Scudamore collects his money over three years and takes on a consultancy role, is perfect for the stakeholders because it prevents Scudamore popping up at La Liga, and also places him on the end of a telephone if another Carlos Tevez or Ashley Cole affair arises. Susanna Dinnage, his replacement, has a famously sharp mind, good political contacts and a background in television, but football can produce some highly diverse challenges and while Scudamore wouldn’t meddle, he is a handy confidant with experience of tiptoeing through minefields. Whether this merits his golden handshake is another argument entirely, but one glance around that room last week, and it was obvious he was getting it.