In August 1964, Liverpool, as English Champions,
travelled to a stadium called the Laugardalsvöllur in Reykjavik to place their
first ever game in European competition. The opponents were Knattspyrnufélag,
and Liverpool won the game 5-0.
In all respects it was a voyage of discovery in a time
when international travel was rare for most people. The Beatles were opening up
the horizons for people on Merseyside and had jetted into JFK the Februarybefore to start their own campaign of world domination.
The press reports suggest that it was a time of
excitement and wonder, broadening people’s outlook and showing everyone the
possibilities of international competition. English teams were rather late to
the party, and the honour of being the first British team to play in Europe fell
to Hibernian. It was only the great Matt Busby’s insistence and disregard for
the Suits at the FA that forced Manchester United’s path to follow. The tragedy
of the Munich Air Disaster was still fresh in the memory in 1964, and English
teams had an uneasy relationship with European competition. Only when the
victories came (from Spurs, first of all, don’t forget) did managers and
chairmen really start to sit up and take notice.
What remains from the photos and grainy footage of Spurs
and Liverpool is the delight of the new. English teams had started to realise
that playing Burnley and Preston was one thing, but trips abroad to Bratislava
and Belgrade were different and exciting.
For most British
teams that qualify for the Champions’ League in the 2020s, playing a foreign
team for the first time is now a rare event. Only newcomers Manchester City
trouble the club statistician with the fact that they have never played a team
before, and that’s because when Manchester United and Liverpool were making
hay, City were skulking in the old Third Division. (In December 1998, when
United were smashing their way to the Treble, City lost to York City in a
league game).
For Manchester United (current troubles put aside),
Chelsea, Juventus, Barcelona and many others, the Champions’ League money tree
throws up year after year of fixtures against the same teams in the same super
stadiums with the same theme tune and associated computer game products. In a
way, the European Super League attempted land grab is not really needed,
because with a few exceptions, the competition is a closed shop. The chance of
the Maltese, Luxembourgish or Latvian champions ever playing at the group stage
of the competition is almost zero. They have so many hoops to leap through that
they know that they will never look forward to a group stage home and away
moneymaker at the Camp Nou.
It wasn’t always like this. Until perhaps the ban after the Heysel disaster and the resulting domination of Italian club
sides, there was a very real possibility of being drawn against a minnow and being
bundled out. It happened to Liverpool, once in Tbilisi and once in Lodz. They
were given equal weighting in the knockout draw, and there was no group stage
safety net. To win the European Cup, you had to be wise to the possibility of
an awkward trip behind the iron curtain to an unknown team. It is not hard to
imagine how the preened show ponies of today would have coped with a visit to
Bucharest, a stay in a hotel controlled by the military, and little communication
with the outside world. Nottingham Forest took their own food, only to have it
confiscated.
They were harder days, but fairer for the teams from
smaller countries. They had a chance.
Is it possible to fix the European Cup in order to give
all the true league champions a fairer shot at the competition? Of course it is.
Money is the single factor that prevents any radical change. It does not mean
it is against the law to imagine, though.
If I had the choice, I would scrap all three of the
current formats of European competition. I would return the European Cup to a
knock-out competition, competed for only by the holders and the national champions,
and I would run it from January to May. It wouldn’t need to start any earlier than
that because there would be far fewer games.
I would have a secondary competition, and would make it
regional. It would run from September to February, and be open to the second
placed team from each national league and the cup winners. Instead of a
competition across the whole of Europe, I would hold four to six smaller
regional ones to find local European champions. An Atlantic League could
include teams from Scotland, Scandinavia and the Low Countries. A Mediterranean
League could invite teams from Spain, France and Italy. A Saxon league could
include Germany and all its neighbours. The winners of each league would be
prestigious in their own right, and could play off against each other if money
really was doing the talking and TV audiences wanted more.
A revised, purer Champions’ Cup could begin to redistribute
players and wealth around Europe. Why choose Juventus, if there was an equal
chance of competing by playing for a team like Feyenoord or Anderlecht? Perhaps
players, pampered as they are, would choose teams not on the certainty of
appearing on the biggest stage like today, but instead on the desirability of
the city. Maybe in this utopian place, FC Copenhagen and Bologna would attract
the talent. It is good to dream.
What of the regional competitions? It would do two
things. Firstly, teams like Rangers, Celtic and Ajax would have a great shot at
winning silverware. Secondly, it would restore some sense of purpose to Europe’s
second competition, which for so long has been a token effort that no team really
wants to be involved in.
We can, and will, go on just as it is at the moment. In
the next ten years, Barcelona, Real Madrid and Bayern will appear in three
finals each, Man City four, and Chelsea five. How exciting. I can hardly wait.
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