Players’ salaries are an open goal after Levy and Taylor sabotage

Footballers pitching in during crisis should be disgusted by union stance, writes

Before requesting support for the “why is it always football?” lobby to which most of us are fully-paid up members, let’s indulge in some therapeutic selfanalysis. The reason footballers have been thrust into a debate about mega-millionaires “playing their part” during a national crisis is because some of those who felt empowered to speak on the subject are idiots.

It is not that other industries or professions do not have their fair share of like-minded graduates in the science of stupidity. No doubt, Formula One, the NFL and the Indian Premier League have their versions of Daniel Levy or Gordon Taylor, whose grasp of the public mood is comparable to that of Marie Antoinette when she summoned her baker.

There are probably a few Hollywood producers contemplating putting on-set caterers on furlough to protect a leading actor’s £25million salary.

The difference in football is that when one high-profile individual or organisation speaks, they are wrongly perceived as representative of all. Those lacking the capacity or will to understand what each club are doing need no second invitation to imagine another of those big red buses telling us the proportion of footballers’ wages that could go to the NHS.

In reality, Levy made himself a pariah among most of his peers, and Taylor’s claims of representing the broad opinion of leading players has been shown to be at best dubious, at worst a sham. So, the most reassuring revelation of the week was that the 20 Premier League captains, acting as representatives of their squads, took it upon themselves to work out a financial formula to help front-line workers. These players’ understanding of their community responsibilities predates coronavirus, so you can imagine the irritation they have felt to have their characters misrepresented.

Matt Hancock, the Health Secretary, tapped into an open goal when invited to comment on footballers’ salaries. Those sympathetic to the players gave Hancock a two-footed tackle, knowing there would be no video assistant referee review, but they were fighting self-sabotage in Levy and Taylor.

While the 20 captains’ proactivity is commendable, when the health crisis has subsided they can do more to ensure they are not unfairly depicted again. Premier League players must focus on the leader of the organisation claiming to represent them.

Every year, there are calls for Professional Footballers’ Association reform and the issue is parked. The alienating reality is this: it costs £150 a year for any professional footballer to be a member of the PFA, regardless of earnings. Presuming most leading clubs have at least a 21-man squad, and they are all PFA members, the top-flight players in this country contribute a combined £63,000 in subscriptions to the PFA. The combined wages of Premier League clubs in 2019 was about £2.7billion.

The PFA’s annual turnover comes almost entirely from the £26million a year received from the Premier League via broadcast revenues. It is an archaic structure. As a comparison, take acting, where vast wage differentials are comparable to football. Actors earning over £272,900 a year pay a union subscription of £2,729. Those earning less than £23,900 pay £136.

A cynic might argue the PFA avoids this financial model because it will lose Premier League members. Many ring-fenced, noble PFA investments are worthy of rigorous applause. Independent of the PFA, the highestearning footballers contribute hundreds of thousands via private and club foundations. If they are not already disgusted that their own union has contributed to them being unfairly misunderstood, they should be.

Should the captains’ chats have the side-effect of ensuring the PFA changes management and structure, it will not only be Richard Masters, the Premier League chief executive, jumping on the table and singing

O Captain! My Captain! during the next conference call.