By Nick MacWilliam
What is it that makes the world go round? Those of a positive persuasion will inevitably cheer ‘love’. If only. The more cynical among us will more realistically opine ‘moolah’ or ‘wonga’. Horace Andy once sang that money is the root of all evil. It is a mantra that few genuine football fans would dispute.
I remember at the start of the 2000-01 season watching a young kid forcing his way into the Arsenal first team. During one of his first post-match TV interviews I was struck by how wide-eyed he looked, clearly unable to believe he was establishing himself in the team he’d always supported. At last, I thought, after a dearth of home-grown players lasting several years, Arsenal had raised a future club great. For the next few years, this continued to appear the case as the club won numerous trophies. Then something changed. Where there was once elation in those eyes, there were now only pound signs. It’s a shame that feelings towards Ashley Cole, and the man himself, have plunged to such depths.
In terms of self-delusion, Ashley’s recent ramblings are up there with Bush’s belief that he’s carrying out God’s work, or Bono’s belief that he IS God. Arsenal didn’t do enough to massage his planet-sized ego, even going so far as to almost make him crash his car by offering an insulting ‘piss-take’ £55,000-a-week contract. The horrible fans sang Henry’s name but not his. Isn’t that strange? Ashley should wake up to the fact that money can buy a lot of things but it doesn’t buy respect. I guess his new club will be able to fill him in on that.
Okay, so putting Cole on a par with Dubya may be a tad excessive. I suppose we ought to remember that Cole is merely a symptom of football’s greed and not the cause. He is not the only one who can be accused of valuing money over all else. Clubs can be equally guilty. Average prices at the new 60,000-seat stadium hover around the £45 mark.
For an hour and a half of (possible) entertainment. I used to think that £25 was steep: that now sounds like sale of the century. And, of course, there is the hated E-word ‘official’ title of Ashburton Grove. If ever Arsenal could be accused of selling out, this is the prime example. I appreciate the need for greater revenue if Arsenal are to compete at the highest levels: this is, after all, the reasoning behind the move from Highbury. But surely some traditions and images of the club should remain sacred. Handing out naming rights to the highest bidder doesn’t seem like the ideal start to creating a new spiritual home. ‘Emirates’ is unlikely to carry much evocation, now or at any other time, and people should never call it that (that’s the last time you’ll ever see an airline mentioned here, unless we sign a Jimmy Qantas or perhaps a BA Baracus, to offer much-desired physical aggression).
The fans undoubtedly want to see the team succeed, but not at the expense of the virtues that see the club held in such high regard all over the world. This is a time of huge potential and promise, with some incredibly gifted young players and an awe-inspiring stage for them to perform and amaze on. It is important, however, that on its ascent to absolute ‘Victoria Concordia Crescit’, the club holds true to its origins, values and, above all, its soul.
