It’s all over – the European football season ended on 25th May with the Champions league final at Wembley Stadium in north-west London.
Wembley was the right place for the final, as Britain gave the “beautiful game” of football to the rest of the world. We set out the rules in 1863 that eventually became the standard; we set up the first professional league in 1888; organised the first international match in 1872 (between England and Scotland); and introduced the game to other countries.
Teams in other leagues have English names: AC Milan (not Milano – founded 1899), River Plate (1901), and Corinthians of Sao Paolo (1910). So we believe that “football is coming home” every time we host a major competition.
This probably sounds chauvinistic to foreign readers. But I think most British sports fans have mixed feelings about football. We enjoy it but, in our heart of hearts, we slightly resent how other nations and teams have been more successful than our own.
Our record in competitions for national teams hasn’t been great: England won the World Cup once, way back in 1966 on home turf, but no British team has ever reached the final of the European Championship. We have been more successful in club competitions with Liverpool, Manchester United and, last year, Chelsea winning the Champions League, but recently their teams have largely been made up of non-British players.
The British football tradition was based on a high energy, entertaining “end-to-end” game with lots of “goalmouth action”. Others developed a more technical approach with greater emphasis on the skills of controlling and keeping possession of the ball.
Even now some British teams rely on “route one”, a long ball to a tall centre-forward to head on to somebody (but I note that Bayern Munich’s winning goal at Wembley came from such a long ball).
Two retirements have dominated recent football news: of Sir Alex Ferguson who managed Manchester United for 26 years – it’s hard to believe his success or longevity as a manager will ever be repeated; and David Beckham, who played for 20 years and is the epitome of a footballer establishing his personal brand around the world, as football has “gone global”.
Indeed, that’s the point. Football is no longer our “property”. And while I’m delighted that the English Premier League is still very entertaining, it now feels much more like other European leagues by being dominated by a few teams, playing the same type of football as elsewhere.
The other football news was the victory of Wigan Athletic in the FA Cup final – the oldest football competition in the world. They were also the first FA Cup winners to be relegated from the top league in the same season.
There is a very British element in this: we love the underdog to win, and Wigan was certainly the underdog against Manchester City.
Underdog is dear to the British consciousness. The term probably came from bear baiting – the dog that attacked the bear from below, and was more likely to be killed than the “top dog”. But everyone now knows the underdog as the less favoured, weaker or smaller in a competition. I’ve tried to find suitable translations in various languages – but none seem to exist. Underdog seems a particularly British concern.
The narrative of an underdog winning is long rooted in human history. It is in the bible – David versus Goliath. It’s not just the British who want underdogs to win – I note that most Germans outside Munich were rooting for Dortmund to win.
Our language has other sporting terms that reflect more deeply embedded feelings. We like to see “fair play” between two sides on “a level playing field”. We love a “trier” and are very generous to “good losers”, and we are embarrassed that winners sometimes let winning “go to their head”.
Growing up, we are told at school that “taking part is more important than winning”.
The British tend to prefer the amateur, the one who does it for love, over the professional, who does it for money. For many years we rather looked down on professionals in any arena.
This doesn’t mean we don’t like winners. As our recent success in the Olympics and certain sports has shown, we can celebrate success. And when we focus our efforts into something, we can be as professional as the next nation.
I think the British fixation with the underdog reflects a romantic streak. We want an element of surprise, variety and difference in our lives. We don’t want the obvious to happen, the favoured to win, and the outcome to be predictable.
So, at the risk of incurring the wrath of my colleague in Warsaw, I hope that Sir Alex Ferguson’s departure will give other clubs a chance in next season’s Premier League.