Tadhg Coakley: Me versus Qatar, ethics be damned
MAGIC MOMENTS: Manchester United's Antony celebrates scoring the winning goal during the UEFA Europa League playoff match at Old Trafford. Pic: PA
A couple of years ago I wrote an essay giving out stink about aspects of sport. I was upset about the thousands who died so we could enjoy 64 games of football in the World Cup last November and December. I was also giving out about the state ownership of football clubs in Europe. I posed some questions about these issues, vis-à-vis:
Does anybody in PSG, Manchester City or Newcastle United – all of which are now state-owned entities – care?
Do any of their fans care?
How many fans of these state-owned entities have spoken out and refused to follow the clubs in these circumstances?
And if Saudi Arabia had bought Manchester United instead of Newcastle United [in October 2021], what would I have done?’
As Qatar appears on the brink of buying United now, I might find out the answer to my last question. Let’s see.
Another question is: if it were your club, what would you do?
I know how professional sport works. It works with money. And I know that United is a business currently owned by the Glazers and as business owners they can sell it at any time they choose. And this is the time they choose. Why wouldn’t they? They bought it for €891 million in 2005, using loans secured against the club’s assets, and now it’s valued at €5.5 billion.
And this kind of selling on can happen to any club from Arsenal to Zenit Saint Petersburg.
After a good few years with United in the doldrums, it had to bloody happen right now – just as we seem poised to be on the up again. Of course it did.
And the consolation that Liverpool might be bought by an even worse entity has disappeared with John W Henry’s announcement that Fenway are not, after all, selling the great Merseyside club.
Back to the question: what am I going to do?
I think I know.
It was one thing boycotting the World Cup which lasted 29 days. It’s another thing boycotting the club I have loved since I was seven years old.
I sulked during the World Cup as nearly everybody else (5.4 billion feckers on beIN alone) enjoyed it. While fellow members of the Sports Entertainment Complex (SEC) tut-tutted about so many deaths and Qatar’s abysmal human rights record, the same people covered the games and profited from their work. I’m not bitter (much).
But I also know that if Qatar buys United, I’m still going to follow the club.
It reminds me of the joke attributed to George Bernard Shaw. Some dowager at a dinner party berated him for prostituting his art for money.
"Madam, we are all prostitutes at heart."
"Certainly not, what an idea."
"Well, would you go to bed with me for a million pounds?"
"Well, for that amount I think I might."
"Would you do it for £10?"
"Of course not, what do you think I am?"
"We have already established what you are, now we’re haggling about the price."
I guess my price is my need to follow United and experience the elation I felt on Thursday night and will hopefully know again on Sunday. Ethics be damned.
What have ethics to do with sport anyway? Was it ethical for the GAA to force Watty Graham’s Glen lodge an official objection before the Association would look into events around that All-Ireland final? It may have been the rule but was it the right thing to do? When Glen withdrew from the process it made the problem go away, which was very convenient for some.
And the Premier League and UEFA will point to the rules which (may) allow Qatar to buy United while it already owns Paris Saint-Germain, potential opponents in a European competition. Not to mention that the two biggest clubs in Manchester will be then owned by neighbouring and often conflicting states in the Gulf region.
An independent regulator of football has been a commitment of the last three UK Prime Ministers but will such a Tory initiative make things any better for struggling clubs, or those who want more ethics around ownership?
Back to me (and you)… We have already established what we all are but let’s haggle now.
If a cash-rich fossil fuel state with dubious policies around human rights, women and LGBT+ people buys your club what will you do? Nothing? Celebrate openly? Celebrate secretly? Tut-tut but continue to follow? Quit? Complain about other sports with involvement with such states? Or something else?
It occurred to me that quitting my love of United (all football really) would be like the character played by Brendan Gleeson in who self-mutilated because his friend annoyed him. That would only hurt myself. Others who still enjoyed football wouldn’t care, other United fans would resent my holier-than-thouness, and the club – least of all the new owners – wouldn’t care less. I didn’t boycott the Premier League over the new owners of City or Newcastle, so why should I deprive myself of the joy of United, however much I might disapprove of the Qatari ruling class? I know this is a rationalisation, but I don’t care.
Whataboutery raises its head here. What about all the other clubs like Bayern Munich, Boca Juniors and Roma with sponsorship ties with Gulf states? What about the word Qatar on the shirts of referees in URC rugby games? What about club sponsorships by companies (like Emirates) owned by such states? What about sports media outlets that profit from gambling? What about corruption in boxing? What about burnout and injuries in college players in the GAA? What about head injuries in rugby and the NFL? What about sponsorship by states in cycling? What about state-sponsored doping in athletics and other sports? What about Gulf states’ involvement in Irish horse racing and land ownership here?
If Qatar buys Manchester United I won’t be celebrating like some Newcastle United fans in 2021, but unless I can muster the ethical backbone to ‘consciously uncouple’ with the club it would be hypocritical of me to complain.
But I’ll probably complain anyway.
Football, bloody hell.
Anfield is truly a magical place and the atmosphere was wild with passion on the night.
A class act by the Reds to observe an immaculate minute’s silence and lay a wreath in memory of Real Madrid’s legend Amancio Amaro.
When Liverpool raced into a two-goal lead by the 13th minute (including a sublime finish by Núñez) I felt that Real Madrid weren’t out of it. Sure enough, it was level before half-time courtesy of Vinicius Júnior. It could have been 4-4 by then, with the attacking brilliance of both teams and the inclination of the two keepers to blunder.
But I failed to predict the domination of Real in the second half. Modrić oversaw the carnage with the impassive swagger of a toreador. Benzema applied the coup de grâce.
Very hard to see Liverpool turn it around at the Bernabéu with their defensive frailties, but you never know. Whatever happens, nothing can tarnish the Reds’ stellar history in Europe.
Speaking of history, the author and historian (and proud Wexford woman) Siobhán Doyle recently unearthed a very rare object: a piece of Irish sports fiction. Irish language author Cathal Ó Sándair (1922–1996) is thought to have written 160 books and sold 500,000 copies. His most famous series involved private detective Réics Carlos, part mysterious international celebrity and part Ireland’s version of Sherlock Holmes.
One of his cases revolved around the shooting dead of a famous (fictional) hurler in Croke Park. Dúnmharú i bPáirc an Chrócaigh (Murder in Croke Park) was published in 1944.
Unfortunately, the involvement of sport ends early in the novel, unlike in Siobhán’s own book: A History of the GAA in 100 Objects (Merrion Press, 2022), which is beautifully written and splendidly produced and is full of fascinating GAA lore. I hope it’s going to be the first of a series, involving other sports and no better woman to do it. Highly recommended.
