Lords of the Bling

Every good drama needs a strong protagonist, a character with whom the audience can identify and empathize. There was a time in football when the protagonist was the player-hero, the footballer whose skill and determination were reflected equally on and off the field. Think of the famous image of Sir Bobby Moore accepting the Jules Rimet trophy from HRM. To use a misshapen analogy, in the old days if Sir Alf Ramsay was Gandalf, the wise grandfather figure who guided the young adventurers on their way, then Sir Bobby Charlton was Frodo (except in the hair department) , the character entrusted with doing the work to overcome his fears and save the world.

How times have changed. Now all the kids want to be the next Arsene Wenger, Jose Mourinho, or Alex Ferguson. Managers' salaries now rival the fees paid for the players they are paid to buy. If the bunfights a few years back between Keane and Viera made the cover of the Sports page, the title-fight between Wenger and Ferguson headlined on A1.

All of this indicates the myth of the all-powerful gaffer has taken hold of popular thinking about football in England, and increasingly on the continent if the unfolding drama surrounding Rijkaard's imminent replacement with Mourinho is any indication. Message boards, blogs, television and print journalists are of one accord when it comes to the incredible power thought to be wielded by the club manager. England haven't taken home trophies? Sack the manager. Newcastle can't break the top fifteen in the twenty-place Premiership? Sack the manager. These days, a player like Charlton (there were none like him really) would be considered less Frodo and more faceless Orc, one soldier in a giant, reserve-backed army formed and drilled by the master tactitian waving his arms on the touchline.

So how did this change come about? There are a few possible reasons. In a world where less and less average people participate in physical sports in their leisure time, it's easier to empathize with the fat, old man in charge watching the action from the bench than the hyper-fit players running 10K every Saturday. And as the unsavoury details of the players's lives become more and more available through News of the World and their ilk, the romance associated with the star-player has lost its allure.

Yet perhaps the most important reason has to do with the creation of the massively wealthy Barclay's Premiership in 1992. In a league where total football transfer fees exceed the GDP of some developing countries and clubs operate in much the same way as the conglomerates advertised on their team shirts, football management is no longer the laps, five-a-sides, and keepy-uppy of old. It's true that a shrewd manager with good buying sense, combined with a widely supported club with a rich history, or a club with a wealthy base of support and healthy line-of-credit by-way of a rich foreign investor is, in the winner takes all Prem, a surefire bet for continued Champions League qualification. In the eyes of the fan however, it's far more dignified to see the manager and not the reams of cash flowing in from increased television and cup revenues as the common denominator in a team's continued fortunes.

All well and true, but what about Arsene Wenger? His name comes up more than any other whenever anyone talks about the model manager for the modern game. His modus operandi at Arsenal: buy low, sell high, pack the reserves with sixteen-year-old prodigies from France, Switzerland and Holland on the cheap and, voila! Cosmopolitan entertainers that seem forever young who can actually win the league and a cup now and again. Then when the players peak, sell them for a profit and bring in the next young genius.

Ignoring for now the distortion that Wenger doesn't spend a good chunk of change on players, this commonly relayed scenario bypasses crucial truths; Arsenal are in one of the wealthiest areas of London, which is itself one of the wealthiest cities on the planet; they have had for many years a wide base of support at home; they have a long history of winning; and most importantly, their success creates cash for more success via bonuses and television rights which are all the more valuable for the reasons listed above. No doubt Wenger is an excellent manager, but Arsenal's permanent stay in the top four since 1997 is not down to his tactical genius alone, however acute it might be.

Perhaps the growing awareness among fans of the malevolent effect the Prem's neoliberal ideology is having on football might lead to the realisation that Liverpool, Chelsea, Manchester United and yes, Arsenal, are where they are for reasons that go beyond team formations and the pre-match meal.