Please, FBI, investigate the 1966 World Cup – if only to shut up Greg Dyke

Marina Hyde in The Guardian


 

‘There is a huge section of fans – and, clearly, administrators – with absolutely no idea how much England is detested within world football, nor any idea as to why.’ Illustration: Andrzej Krauze

You know when World Cups started being corrupt? 1970. And anything up to and including 1962. Between those dates, there was a brief and ineffably beautiful interregnum in the chicanery, which thereafter was never allowed to happen again. Why? Well, there was a global sense, really, that the sainted custodians of both tournament and trophy during that time were simply too exquisitely mannered, too morally faultless, too humble, too generous-spirited, too brilliant at football ever to be permitted to shame the rest of the world in this manner again.

Did you enjoy that story? If so, you may be Greg Dyke, or have suffered a recent head trauma. Either way, please seek help immediately.

The Fifa scandal erupted a mere 10 days ago, and it took barely two of those for England to make it all about itself. Ooh, you’ve no idea how they treated us during the bid process. Ooh, the main thing about this is that we should be given one of the disputed World Cups. The scale of the FBI takedown of Fifa is vast. England is like a diner in one of the ground-floor restaurants of the Towering Inferno building, wondering how what’s going on upstairs is going to affect its drinks order. Odd how they underplay the fact that England’s bid team gave the wives of the executive committee – their wives! – Mulberry handbags. This isn’t being “above” bribery. It’s being unable to get out of the group stages of bribery.

Already, culture secretary John Whittingdale has announced that England is ready to host the 2022 World Cup, should Qatar be stripped of it. Newsflash, buddy: at their current rate of acquisition of English landmarks, Qatar will already own all our major stadiums and half our infrastructure by 2022, so that’ll be just the sort of pyrrhic two-fingers in which we specialise. Yes, Qatar, you’ll know we’ve really beaten you when England lose to Paraguay in the opening match of the tournament at Liverpool’s Qatar Airways stadium (when you go down the tunnel on to the pitch there’s a spine-tingling sign that reads “THIS IS DOHA”.)

I say “we”, but there is no longer a “we” as far as the Fifa exposé goes. We had a good innings, being all in it together. People who don’t even care for football were remarking how watchable footballing arrests were. The utter insufferability of Sepp Blatter was something we could all get behind, while his victory last Friday was an election result on which we could all agree, so soon after our own one, on which we couldn’t.

But the point-missing parochialism was always in the post, and its arrival marks the end of the cross-party, cross-club, cross-everything love-in that has characterised the Fifa story.

From phone-ins to frontbenches, you now cannot move for Little Englanders telescoping world football down to their concerns. At their notional helm is FA chairman Greg Dyke, who did such a bang-up job dealing with the Hutton inquiry that he’s decided to come and bring that same grasp of nuance to what he presumably imagines to be his moment on the global stage. I suppose the best you can say is that there’s less left to damage with English football than there was with the BBC. But really, there hasn’t been a managerial double whammy like it since André Villas-Boas swept from Chelsea to Tottenham.

Historically, there have been few statements less guaranteed to fill you with confidence than “this is a matter for the FA”. Unless you count something like “this is a matter for the Jockey Club”, whose two-legged overlords were traditionally intellectually outclassed by their four-legged underlings. The competition to be the worst-run British sporting body is always hard fought, but the FA has won the title more than any of the others.

And they look to have another in the bag with their reflexive prejudging of corruption allegations, ill-advised speculation about the FBI investigation, and jingoistic bleats about how unfair it all is. It’s just a marginally more self-regarding version of throwing cafeteria furniture across a city square in a Sun-issue Tommy hat. They are naturally supported by said newspaper, whose Pooterish idea that Sepp Blatter was paying attention to what was in their leader column saw it declare in 2010: “Today the Sun makes this plea to Mr Blatter and Fifa. Don’t be put off by the BBC rehashing ancient history. Despite BBC muck-raking, the Sun trusts Fifa to put football first.”

Even our football-loving prime minister is just another Englishman whose criticism of Fifa is based solely on self-interest, as opposed to principle, and whose pettiness only serves to underscore the global perception that our position on everything is based on sour grapes. Back in 2010, he too criticised the British media for daring to investigate Fifa, while the bid team called it “unpatriotic”. Cameron has spent the past week falsifying his anti-Blatter history while failing to disguise his belief that nicking the 2018 World Cup hosting rights would be the perfect money-shot to his prime ministership.

England ready to host 2022 World Cup in place of Qatar, culture secretary says



Consider these powers the perfect spiritual leaders for a tribe whose analogue is probably those Americans who genuinely hadn’t a clue they were even disliked before 9/11. There is a huge section of fans – and, clearly, administrators – with absolutely no idea how much England is detested within world football, nor any idea as to why. And no interest in getting one.

Ideally, each and every one of them would be forced to attend a six-week residential course in which a series of instructors prepared detailed presentations on the matter, which concluded with the rhetorical inquiry: “Do you now understand why everyone thinks we’re just absolutely massive arses?”

Unfortunately, I am told that given the numbers involved this is not a scaleable solution. In which case, just for the merriment, please, please let the FBI open an investigation into how hosting rights for the 1966 World Cup were won. I don’t even care about international law any more, or the increasingly bonkers mission creep which has seen the US announce additional probes into the 2010 and 2014 World Cups, as well the 2018 and 2022 vote, and which will now clearly end in this being the US’s legal equivalent of Nam. I just want someone – anyone – to bring home the realisation that we really are the Ukip of international football. And, increasingly, of international life.

What will the BCCI do with all this Power?

Ed Smith

All empires lose power. But their achievements - and their sins - long survive them. The judgement of history will not celebrate the gaining power, or even clinging on to it, but the manner in which power was exercised.

For Indian cricket, that is now the only question that matters. Everything else follows from that central debate. No one doubts that India is now cricket's preeminent power. Money will continue to pour in, sometimes faster, sometimes slower. Contracts will come and go. Alliances with other cricket boards will form and then dissolve. These things will matter a great deal in the short term, little over the long term.

Because the big picture is settled: India is the country everyone wants to tour; India has the IPL; India is the country with the biggest markets and revenues; India has the loudest voice and the deepest pockets. India cannot quite do whatever it pleases, but it has far more autonomy and power than any other nation.

But what will India do with all this power? That is the issue. What is its vision for the world game? Has it even thought about it? Or has the thrilling accumulation of power been all-consuming? Has it acknowledged the responsibilities that follow?

Recent evidence suggests not. Consider its attitude to the future of Test cricket. The BCCI talks a good game about safeguarding the most precious form of the sport, but has done very little about it. Indian cricket has long endured the fact that the showpiece events of the Test match calendar, such as the Boxing Day Test, have been scheduled to suit other cultures. But nothing is now stopping India organising a home Test schedule that will attract the most local attention and the biggest crowds. If India wants to make every home Test match a major event, how about creating a bespoke Test match calendar - the right venue on the right date - to coincide with the prospect of drawing decent crowds?

The BCCI has been perfectly happy to block out international cricket during the IPL window. How about blocking in some high-profile Test matches, organised around Indian holidays, with the same kind of precision and determination? Test cricket needs help. The BCCI can provide it.

India has long aspired to leadership of the world game. But it should aspire to provide not only new leadership but better leadership. It is often said that England ruled international cricket for too long and with too much introspection. The first three World Cups were all hosted by England. Why was London the seat of cricketing power? The simple answer, I suppose, is because it always had been.

That is why I have long argued that there are some very good reasons for the game's axis of power to move to India. India has vastly more cricket fans than the rest of the world added up together. Democracy, in a way, has trumped history.

But do many people doubt, that for all their conservatism, the grey-haired Englishmen who once ran cricket did so largely for the right reasons, in the right spirit, in the hope that they were acting as custodians of the game? Does the same apply to the moneymen who drive decisions today?

All sports have an uneasy relationship with money. And, of course, entrepreneurs and marketeers have their role in the development of sport. But sports are never only businesses, especially not cricket. The game is manifestly very different from the more market-driven American model. American sports always follow the same pattern: the matches nearly always happen in America, and this product is sold around the world. So while global markets may evolve, the identity and flavour of the sport remains essentially American.

Cricket is different. It is a world game that serves many different constituencies. The dictates of the market cannot be allowed to determine who survives or dies. If international cricket consisted of franchises competing in a free market, Pakistan - let alone Zimbabwe and Bangladesh - would have folded and gone bust long ago. But cricket needs its precious breadth and diversity. So it must nurture the weak as well as the strong.

	All sports have an uneasy relationship with money, but sports are never only businesses, especially not cricket

World cricket is not just a business. It is an organic being. The well-being of the whole influences the health of every aspect. That is why the leadership of world cricket is more like the stewardship of a trust than a straightforward business. India has a wonderful opportunity to show how well it can serve and administer a precious world enterprise.

International sport has a huge role in shaping a nation's global reputation. India should think carefully about the signals it sends when the BCCI makes sudden demands on broadcasters. For many people around the world, cricket is the only prism through which they see India. First impressions count.

Just think of the kudos New Zealand gains through the achievements and culture of All Black rugby. A nation of three million people produces not only the best team but a sporting dynasty that is an example to the rest of the world. The All Blacks do not trifle with their traditions and responsibilities. Even without the equivalent power exercised by Indian cricket, New Zealand's rugby punches far above its weight - in terms of victories and reputation.

I write as someone who loves India and Indian cricket. The piece of advice that most changed my cricket career came from Rahul Dravid. "Go to India," he said, "bat there, but also just spend time there." I flew myself to India several times in my early 20s and did just that. My exposure to Indian cricket and culture ranks as one of the most formative and valuable experiences of my life.

That was one of the reasons, when my father became seriously ill seven years ago, that I took him to India in the weeks preceding his operation. I knew he would be inspired and revived by the experience. One day we walked around the well-preserved Fatehpur Sikri, the city built by Emperor Akbar in the 16th century. We stood in the courts of justice, we read about Akbar's policy of religious tolerance and his system of fairer taxation. We heard the story of Elizabeth I dispatching an envoy to express England's admiration.

Fatehpur Sikri was the seat of power for only 14 years. Its legacy? Elegance, tolerance and, briefly, an example to the rest of the world.

What will be the legacy of the BCCI's period as the most powerful court in world cricket? They should start thinking about that now. Power can fade as quickly as it arrives.