attila
1997 Club
This is a piece for the newspaper I write for, published last weekend. Apologies for repetition of the bit I had already posted here, I wanted to put it up in its entirety for context.
It has insights into our strategy I think you'll find interesting. Cheers, Attila/John
I had a serious football meltdown a few weeks ago.
The obscenity of the amount of money sloshing around in the Premier League while millions of our fellow citizens are in desperate poverty had been gnawing at me for years. The imminent arrival of the World Cup, barging into our domestic season like a braying, banknote-waving Hooray Henry following its award to Qatar, a misogynistic, homophobic theocracy where it’s so hot in the summer that the competition had to be staged in November, was giving me further dark thoughts – especially since allegations of bribery and corruption were everywhere.
And then Brighton manager Graham Potter went to Chelsea, who’d already had our player of the season, taking with him our backroom staff and letting it be known that he’d be back for our head of recruitment (now gone) and probably more players as well. Not just taking all our fish, but the rod we catch them with. And the response from the corporate media: ‘It’s business. Chelsea are a ‘big club’, Brighton are a ‘small club’. That’s what happens. Know your place and move on’.
That was the last straw. I lost it big time. I know we’re an incredibly well-managed operation, with a forensic, well-researched and well-rehearsed set-up. I knew that there would already be a plan in place for all this. Nevertheless, the sheer temerity, the disgusting brazenness of money, brought my combative streak out.
I put my thoughts into words, posted them on my Facebook blog and sent them to Paul Barber, chief executive and deputy chairman of the club, and Paul Camillin, head of media. Both known to me for years – in the latter’s case over 25 of them, since he stood alongside us against the rogue chairman Archer when we fans were battling to save the club, and his elevation is well-merited.
‘We have had an incredible 25 year rise from the bottom of the 4th division with no ground to 7th in the Premier League. It has been a roller coaster of wonder. Now we have reached the glass ceiling, it’s nowhere near as interesting. The football is beautiful, but the game is sick.The Potter episode sometimes makes me think of walking away, if I am honest, and though I know I won’t, that is saying something, given my passion for the Albion. Brilliantly run club, great recruitment, unique manager, everything ripped away by the power of money. And not just any money but Chelsea money, stolen from the Russian people, leaving millions in misery. As I have said before, I feel like a goldfish owner who loves my pet as much as ever but utterly loathes the water it is swimming in now. Something fundamental has to change. If someone like me - who spent years of my life battling to save the club he loves - feels like this when we are 7th in the Premier League, there really is something wrong with the game.’
And I got an email back from CEO Paul Barber inviting me to be his guest in the boardroom against Villa last Saturday and talk about it all. ‘I know the corporate stuff isn’t really your thing, John, but…’
Of course I went. I had always known that we were still different as a club, but when Paul and chairman Tony Bloom said ‘If it wasn’t for you lot, we wouldn’t be standing here now’ I felt proud for us all. Before the game I had a good think about what the strategy might be: I asked if my analysis was correct and found I was on the right track.
Brighton is now the gateway to the Premier League for young, supremely talented players from all over the world – and, more importantly, for their money-hungry agents.
The message is out. Come to Brighton and your client will have world class training facilities and the chance to break quickly into a progressive, egalitarian team rather than being a bench warmer for years at a ‘big club’. If he is as good as you say he is and the bloated monsters come calling, we won’t stand in your way and every last penny will be extracted on your behalf by some very good negotiators so you get the huge commission which is your reason for living. Meanwhile, we’ll have developed his successor, ready to take his place.
And Tony Bloom is that rare thing among Premier League chairmen – a lifelong fan. So I posed the question. ‘You want to see us play in Europe as much as the rest of us do, Tony. Can we do it with a revolving door policy? Can we break the glass ceiling?’ He looked me in the eye and said ‘Yes, I think we can’.
There wasn’t a prawn sandwich in sight, but I had three (mini) Piglets Balti pies and trousered three bars of Albion branded chocolate, a gift from the CEO
I met some old faces I hadn’t seen for years.
I’m still sick of modern football, the water, I still love the Albion, the goldfish. As for Europe, Tony, we’ll see.
But we sure are a well run club. Surfers on, rather than in, the sewage which is the Premier League.
It has insights into our strategy I think you'll find interesting. Cheers, Attila/John
I had a serious football meltdown a few weeks ago.
The obscenity of the amount of money sloshing around in the Premier League while millions of our fellow citizens are in desperate poverty had been gnawing at me for years. The imminent arrival of the World Cup, barging into our domestic season like a braying, banknote-waving Hooray Henry following its award to Qatar, a misogynistic, homophobic theocracy where it’s so hot in the summer that the competition had to be staged in November, was giving me further dark thoughts – especially since allegations of bribery and corruption were everywhere.
And then Brighton manager Graham Potter went to Chelsea, who’d already had our player of the season, taking with him our backroom staff and letting it be known that he’d be back for our head of recruitment (now gone) and probably more players as well. Not just taking all our fish, but the rod we catch them with. And the response from the corporate media: ‘It’s business. Chelsea are a ‘big club’, Brighton are a ‘small club’. That’s what happens. Know your place and move on’.
That was the last straw. I lost it big time. I know we’re an incredibly well-managed operation, with a forensic, well-researched and well-rehearsed set-up. I knew that there would already be a plan in place for all this. Nevertheless, the sheer temerity, the disgusting brazenness of money, brought my combative streak out.
I put my thoughts into words, posted them on my Facebook blog and sent them to Paul Barber, chief executive and deputy chairman of the club, and Paul Camillin, head of media. Both known to me for years – in the latter’s case over 25 of them, since he stood alongside us against the rogue chairman Archer when we fans were battling to save the club, and his elevation is well-merited.
‘We have had an incredible 25 year rise from the bottom of the 4th division with no ground to 7th in the Premier League. It has been a roller coaster of wonder. Now we have reached the glass ceiling, it’s nowhere near as interesting. The football is beautiful, but the game is sick.The Potter episode sometimes makes me think of walking away, if I am honest, and though I know I won’t, that is saying something, given my passion for the Albion. Brilliantly run club, great recruitment, unique manager, everything ripped away by the power of money. And not just any money but Chelsea money, stolen from the Russian people, leaving millions in misery. As I have said before, I feel like a goldfish owner who loves my pet as much as ever but utterly loathes the water it is swimming in now. Something fundamental has to change. If someone like me - who spent years of my life battling to save the club he loves - feels like this when we are 7th in the Premier League, there really is something wrong with the game.’
And I got an email back from CEO Paul Barber inviting me to be his guest in the boardroom against Villa last Saturday and talk about it all. ‘I know the corporate stuff isn’t really your thing, John, but…’
Of course I went. I had always known that we were still different as a club, but when Paul and chairman Tony Bloom said ‘If it wasn’t for you lot, we wouldn’t be standing here now’ I felt proud for us all. Before the game I had a good think about what the strategy might be: I asked if my analysis was correct and found I was on the right track.
Brighton is now the gateway to the Premier League for young, supremely talented players from all over the world – and, more importantly, for their money-hungry agents.
The message is out. Come to Brighton and your client will have world class training facilities and the chance to break quickly into a progressive, egalitarian team rather than being a bench warmer for years at a ‘big club’. If he is as good as you say he is and the bloated monsters come calling, we won’t stand in your way and every last penny will be extracted on your behalf by some very good negotiators so you get the huge commission which is your reason for living. Meanwhile, we’ll have developed his successor, ready to take his place.
And Tony Bloom is that rare thing among Premier League chairmen – a lifelong fan. So I posed the question. ‘You want to see us play in Europe as much as the rest of us do, Tony. Can we do it with a revolving door policy? Can we break the glass ceiling?’ He looked me in the eye and said ‘Yes, I think we can’.
There wasn’t a prawn sandwich in sight, but I had three (mini) Piglets Balti pies and trousered three bars of Albion branded chocolate, a gift from the CEO
I met some old faces I hadn’t seen for years.I’m still sick of modern football, the water, I still love the Albion, the goldfish. As for Europe, Tony, we’ll see.
But we sure are a well run club. Surfers on, rather than in, the sewage which is the Premier League.
