Eggman
Well-known member
Spent forces who always bounce back
By Owen Slot
THEY were to meet in a Hilton off the M1. So said the fixer. No names
disclosed. Clandestine stuff. Come alone. The chief executive of Northampton
Town was told to check in and await the arrival of the secret investor, the
man behind a glittering new consortium. This was last year, Northampton were
in need of a buyer, and here was one who was seriously arousing their
interest. They had visions of an Elton John or a George Michael, someone who
would want to hush-hush their identity until the deal was done.
And then in walked Steve Evans. Yes, the Steve Evans. The same Steve Evans
who was suspended as manager from Boston United for contract irregularities.
The same Steve Evans who was subsequently banned from football by the FA for
20 months and fined £8,000 for facilitating a payment to a witness to
attempt to mislead, impede and frustrate the FA's inquiry.
So no deal. Not quite the right man. Although in their search for a buyer,
Northampton had probably already thought that they could do no worse than
when Bryan Richardson arrived with a chequebook. This was the same Bryan
Richardson who, according to the annual report, had overseen Coventry City's
slide towards £59.6 million of debt. Within a week of being ousted as
Coventry chairman, Richardson was on the phone to Northampton talking of a
buyout. Again, no deal.
Richardson didn't stop there; such was his desire to stay in the game he had
soon found a position at Derby County. However, that did not last long. Two
months later, having failed to show any sign of delivering the cash that he
had promised he could raise, and having had his wrists smacked for meddling
in team affairs, his position was terminated. So you can imagine the delight
of Derby supporters when he was soon back again with a purported £30 million
bond to buy out Lionel Pickering, the chairman.
"Is this what we want for Derby County?" one irate supporter wrote on a club
internet messageboard. "I suggest not. Does Lionel want to be remembered as
the chairman who figuratively said, 'Après moi, le deluge'?" According to
the club, this is unlikely to be Pickering's legacy: the Richardson
consortium has gone quiet. But as another fan asked on the messageboard:
"How do these people find their way back into football anyway?"
If there were a selection process for football's boardrooms beyond bluff and
bluster and the waving of an empty chequebook, then maybe Notts County would
not be the most endangered club in the League. On Tuesday, they broke the
record for the club sustaining the longest period in administration - it is
now 424 days and counting - and on Monday they will be three weeks away from
the deadline to find the required £3 million to settle their debts.
"What's happened here is unbelievable," Derek Pavis, the former chairman,
said. It was three years ago that Pavis sold the club to Albert Scardino,
husband of Marjorie Scardino, the Pearson chief executive. Pavis says the
new owner promised him that he had £3 million, but it transpired that he did
not. Scardino brought with him Peter Storrie, the former chief executive of
West Ham United, who spent the non-existent £3 million and more.
Storrie left Kroll, the administrators, aboard the sinking ship last year
and walked straight into another chief executive's position at Portsmouth.
County, meanwhile, looked for new buyers and you can imagine the double-take
performed by the administrators two months ago when a new chief executive
arrived: Geoffrey Richmond. The last time that Kroll had come across
Richmond was when they were called in to clear up the £13 million debt he
had left behind him at Bradford City.
Richmond didn't last long at Meadow Lane. It soon became clear that the
backers who had appointed him couldn't find the funds and after five weeks
in the chair, he was gone. His route to Nottingham appears to have been
circuitous, reportedly taking in stops at Huddersfield and Peterborough.
Pavis, who still hasn't been fully paid, is aghast. "I was disappointed to
find that Geoffrey Richmond was the CEO," he said. "People like this
shouldn't be allowed to come back into football."
And Richmond, in turn, could argue that this is a bit rich coming from
Pavis, who was once found guilty and fined £50 for offering Jeff Whitefoot,
the Nottingham Forest winger, £500 to play badly in a game. That was 39
years ago. Pavis has since worked as a director of Forest and then chairman
of County.
How football can forgive. It appears to be in the game's extraordinary
nature that it can act as a trampoline for those with any responsibility for
cataclysmically bad management and let them bounce back. Terry Robinson, the
former Bury chairman, who left Gigg Lane on the verge of meltdown and the
arrival of the administrators? Now chief executive at Sheffield United. And
John Elsom, chairman of Leicester City when debts got to £50 million and the
administrators were called in? Left Leicester and walked straight into the
boardroom at Grimsby Town.
Why? "Because he's very experienced in football," Peter Furneaux, the
Grimsby chairman, said. "From what he told me - his knowledge of football
and what he would give to us - I have no reservations."
At one stage this summer, we had the three "R"s - Richardson, Richmond and
Peter Ridsdale, a trio whose clubs had amassed a combined debt of £150
million - all looking for jobs in the game. Ridsdale has been trawling clubs
on the brink of extinction and talking of coming to their rescue. He flirted
with Barnsley, took one look at Oldham Athletic and fled and says he is in
negotiations with two others.
It sounds like a bad joke: to be mired in debt and have the game's most
infamous spendthrift arrive on a white stallion. Yet Ridsdale is serious.
What motivates him to return to a sport from which he was so badly burnt?
"Football is in the blood," he said. "I enjoy it. And I can demonstrate that
people have short memories. People seem to be judging me on a short-term
basis, yet we had five years at Leeds when we were in the top five.
And it wasn't just me making decisions, we had a board of directors. If I
can buy a club, I would be able to stand and fall on my own performance."
Others would say that ego, the glamour and the Saturday afternoons are what
keep bringing the three "R"s and the rest of them back. And they don't
necessarily approve.
"If someone's on that merry-go-round of football clubs, it's a strange
motive," Adam Pearson, chief executive of Hull City, said. "It suggests it's
the glamour of football rather than the football club itself that drives
them."
"You would think that clubs would base appointments on what recruits have
done in the past," Roy Whalley, of Walsall, a club notable for turning in 11
consecutive years of trading profit, said. "Yet there are some characters
who make you wonder how they're still in the game."
If there is good news at the end of all this it comes from the FA. The
merry-go-round, it announced last month, should soon grind to a halt. The FA
Finance Advisory Committee is to meet with a new chairwoman, Kate Barker, a
member of the Monetary Policy Committee at the Bank of England, and one
objective is to introduce a "Fit and Proper Person" test for directors.
Imagine the interviews. You could sell ringside tickets. And then, finally,
it might be time for goodbyes and not just au revoirs.
By Owen Slot
THEY were to meet in a Hilton off the M1. So said the fixer. No names
disclosed. Clandestine stuff. Come alone. The chief executive of Northampton
Town was told to check in and await the arrival of the secret investor, the
man behind a glittering new consortium. This was last year, Northampton were
in need of a buyer, and here was one who was seriously arousing their
interest. They had visions of an Elton John or a George Michael, someone who
would want to hush-hush their identity until the deal was done.
And then in walked Steve Evans. Yes, the Steve Evans. The same Steve Evans
who was suspended as manager from Boston United for contract irregularities.
The same Steve Evans who was subsequently banned from football by the FA for
20 months and fined £8,000 for facilitating a payment to a witness to
attempt to mislead, impede and frustrate the FA's inquiry.
So no deal. Not quite the right man. Although in their search for a buyer,
Northampton had probably already thought that they could do no worse than
when Bryan Richardson arrived with a chequebook. This was the same Bryan
Richardson who, according to the annual report, had overseen Coventry City's
slide towards £59.6 million of debt. Within a week of being ousted as
Coventry chairman, Richardson was on the phone to Northampton talking of a
buyout. Again, no deal.
Richardson didn't stop there; such was his desire to stay in the game he had
soon found a position at Derby County. However, that did not last long. Two
months later, having failed to show any sign of delivering the cash that he
had promised he could raise, and having had his wrists smacked for meddling
in team affairs, his position was terminated. So you can imagine the delight
of Derby supporters when he was soon back again with a purported £30 million
bond to buy out Lionel Pickering, the chairman.
"Is this what we want for Derby County?" one irate supporter wrote on a club
internet messageboard. "I suggest not. Does Lionel want to be remembered as
the chairman who figuratively said, 'Après moi, le deluge'?" According to
the club, this is unlikely to be Pickering's legacy: the Richardson
consortium has gone quiet. But as another fan asked on the messageboard:
"How do these people find their way back into football anyway?"
If there were a selection process for football's boardrooms beyond bluff and
bluster and the waving of an empty chequebook, then maybe Notts County would
not be the most endangered club in the League. On Tuesday, they broke the
record for the club sustaining the longest period in administration - it is
now 424 days and counting - and on Monday they will be three weeks away from
the deadline to find the required £3 million to settle their debts.
"What's happened here is unbelievable," Derek Pavis, the former chairman,
said. It was three years ago that Pavis sold the club to Albert Scardino,
husband of Marjorie Scardino, the Pearson chief executive. Pavis says the
new owner promised him that he had £3 million, but it transpired that he did
not. Scardino brought with him Peter Storrie, the former chief executive of
West Ham United, who spent the non-existent £3 million and more.
Storrie left Kroll, the administrators, aboard the sinking ship last year
and walked straight into another chief executive's position at Portsmouth.
County, meanwhile, looked for new buyers and you can imagine the double-take
performed by the administrators two months ago when a new chief executive
arrived: Geoffrey Richmond. The last time that Kroll had come across
Richmond was when they were called in to clear up the £13 million debt he
had left behind him at Bradford City.
Richmond didn't last long at Meadow Lane. It soon became clear that the
backers who had appointed him couldn't find the funds and after five weeks
in the chair, he was gone. His route to Nottingham appears to have been
circuitous, reportedly taking in stops at Huddersfield and Peterborough.
Pavis, who still hasn't been fully paid, is aghast. "I was disappointed to
find that Geoffrey Richmond was the CEO," he said. "People like this
shouldn't be allowed to come back into football."
And Richmond, in turn, could argue that this is a bit rich coming from
Pavis, who was once found guilty and fined £50 for offering Jeff Whitefoot,
the Nottingham Forest winger, £500 to play badly in a game. That was 39
years ago. Pavis has since worked as a director of Forest and then chairman
of County.
How football can forgive. It appears to be in the game's extraordinary
nature that it can act as a trampoline for those with any responsibility for
cataclysmically bad management and let them bounce back. Terry Robinson, the
former Bury chairman, who left Gigg Lane on the verge of meltdown and the
arrival of the administrators? Now chief executive at Sheffield United. And
John Elsom, chairman of Leicester City when debts got to £50 million and the
administrators were called in? Left Leicester and walked straight into the
boardroom at Grimsby Town.
Why? "Because he's very experienced in football," Peter Furneaux, the
Grimsby chairman, said. "From what he told me - his knowledge of football
and what he would give to us - I have no reservations."
At one stage this summer, we had the three "R"s - Richardson, Richmond and
Peter Ridsdale, a trio whose clubs had amassed a combined debt of £150
million - all looking for jobs in the game. Ridsdale has been trawling clubs
on the brink of extinction and talking of coming to their rescue. He flirted
with Barnsley, took one look at Oldham Athletic and fled and says he is in
negotiations with two others.
It sounds like a bad joke: to be mired in debt and have the game's most
infamous spendthrift arrive on a white stallion. Yet Ridsdale is serious.
What motivates him to return to a sport from which he was so badly burnt?
"Football is in the blood," he said. "I enjoy it. And I can demonstrate that
people have short memories. People seem to be judging me on a short-term
basis, yet we had five years at Leeds when we were in the top five.
And it wasn't just me making decisions, we had a board of directors. If I
can buy a club, I would be able to stand and fall on my own performance."
Others would say that ego, the glamour and the Saturday afternoons are what
keep bringing the three "R"s and the rest of them back. And they don't
necessarily approve.
"If someone's on that merry-go-round of football clubs, it's a strange
motive," Adam Pearson, chief executive of Hull City, said. "It suggests it's
the glamour of football rather than the football club itself that drives
them."
"You would think that clubs would base appointments on what recruits have
done in the past," Roy Whalley, of Walsall, a club notable for turning in 11
consecutive years of trading profit, said. "Yet there are some characters
who make you wonder how they're still in the game."
If there is good news at the end of all this it comes from the FA. The
merry-go-round, it announced last month, should soon grind to a halt. The FA
Finance Advisory Committee is to meet with a new chairwoman, Kate Barker, a
member of the Monetary Policy Committee at the Bank of England, and one
objective is to introduce a "Fit and Proper Person" test for directors.
Imagine the interviews. You could sell ringside tickets. And then, finally,
it might be time for goodbyes and not just au revoirs.
