Fifa, according to one Joseph S. Blatter, is like a big family. Very true – in fact, all this corruption business reminds me of my own dearly beloved. During a late night game of Monopoly one Christmas, I recall taking my dad to one side while my sister was making the tea and offering him two hotels if he agreed not to buy Park Lane. “Do with them what you will”, I whispered, motioning suggestively with my eyes towards the arm of the sofa where the hotels sat, neatly concealed in reused wrapping paper.
As we took our seats to resume, my mum suddenly stood up and asked for the game to be halted, claiming that, during the course of the interval, a small, seasonally-decorated parcel had been seen moving between players. There was photographic evidence, she claimed. My sister, evidently outraged at the very thought of underhand dealings besmirching our household's good name, demanded a thorough investigation. “Sure, no problem” was my dad's response, immediately appointing me to chair the resultant proceedings.
As it turned out, said photographic evidence was unusable, as the camera didn’t have the flash on (it was a gift from me, but let's not get into that). After much finger-pointing and Quality Street-slinging, all involved agreed that more transparency would be required for future games. But perhaps more importantly, we celebrated the fact that only we – the family – could truly solve our problems, whatever they may be. Boxing Day was mercifully drama-free.
Families, eh? You'll fight and you'll feud but you'll miss them when they're gone. I wish I could say the same about Fifa. The federation’s 61st Congress went off without a hitch this week, by which I mean two hundred or so besuited septuagenarians turned up in
Switzerland for a trumped-up corporate weekender, featuring a one-sided farce of an election, an often-inexplicable parade of speeches, and a performance by the always-inexplicable Grace Jones. Switzerland – both Blatter’s home nation and the federation’s chosen base camp – couldn’t have been a more perfectly suited host if it had changed its name to ‘Seppland’ for the week and dished up puréed tax loopholes for lunch (served in brown paper bags, naturally).
Now I'm not saying that Fifa is rife with corruption but... alright, fine, that is what I'm saying but then why shouldn't I? According to Blatter, the open arms of the footballing family are there to embrace, nuzzle and succour all those who love the game and as my earlier, definitely-not-made-up anecdote goes to show, families are all about speaking your mind. And I'm sure some of them know a thing or two about hotels as well.
Of course the warm reach of the Fifa lineage only goes so far. The media – those infuriating devils with the gall to report things that have actually happened – are given short shrift, like an uncle with a flatulence problem who keeps popping round unannounced. Their presence clearly isn’t welcome, a strange and confusing attitude from an apparently welcoming group with nothing to hide.
The truth is that under Blatter, Fifa has become an unimpeachable money making machine, one which knows that outside interference will severely hinder its cash creating potential. The ExCo members whose federations – and, by extension, their own careers – stand to benefit will continue to fall behind whoever is (to pirate Blatter’s own nautical metaphor) steering the ship.
Blatter's reluctance to allow independent investigations into the group’s alleged wrongdoings smacks not only of insularity but of stubborn and wilful elusiveness. The brash, untouchable over-confidence with which he deflects away any questions beyond the most anodyne and prosaic betrays the inclusive and positive façade he's trying so desperately to project onto the walls of Fifa H.Q.
The Congress itself, to all intents and purposes, appears to the humble outsider as little more than a self-congratulatory drinks reception. I could be wrong, of course – there could be a lot of hard work going on behind the scenes. Away from the big speeches and the media gaggle, there might be all sorts of key decisions being addressed. Goal line technology, fair play, grass roots initiatives – all this and more could well have been dissected, argued over and met with creative solutions. But somehow I doubt it. I’d love to be proved wrong, and yet even if I were, the nauseating echo of backslapping and nest-feathering lingers too long in the ear drum for the public’s murky perceptions to be easily transformed. For all the claims and counter-claims of sordid skulduggery, it isn’t even the alleged corruption which is Blatter’s biggest challenge.
No, what Fifa have is an image problem. Consider the poor choice of stage backdrops used in Zurich, which saw Blatter overlooked by – at various points – a clown and a gaping, yawning jaw (although, fair enough, these could have just been Grace Jones again). These images don’t exactly represent the smartest propaganda material, certainly not when those roguish English media hounds are scavenging for cheap laughs.
What Fifa needs is a family-friendly makeover. There are, to my eyes, a few cheap yet effective changes to their regular routine Blatter could take to ensure a more wholesome Fifa experience for all involved, changes that will bring to the federation’s strained home life a little more positivity:
1. Family meals. Time was, a family wasn’t really that unless it sat down together for meal times and discussed the events of the day. “What did you get up to today, David?” Sepp might enquire. “Oh nothing, your highness,” young David might reply. “I just tried to thwart your unchallenged route to continued global power, in the face of brutal mockery and contempt from my over-privileged peer group.” “That’s nice, son. Chew your food.”
2. Get a dog. Everyone knows that no family unit can truly experience nuclear bliss unless they’re collectively doting on the every wag and slobber of a friendly pooch. Think of the shenanigans at the next Congress, as the head of the Benin FA tries to deliver his traditional soporific presidential endorsement while Rover chews on his key notes.
3. Shared interests. It’s a little known fact that Jack Warner is a keen antiques collector. If only fellow ExCo members knew! In light of this revelation, my suggested venue for the next Fifa congress would be the Acorn Antiques & Collectables Centre in Sawbridgeworth. “Our friendly centre is the perfect way to buy or sell goods!” claims their website. There’s probably a joke in there somewhere.
4. Quality time. Members of the ExCo are clearly having problems communicating, seeing as how the left hand doesn’t seem to know how much cash the right hand is accepting. The solution? Quality time spent together. Nothing crazy, just an hour or two a week, perhaps over a nice cup of tea, or in front of Eastenders. Just don’t break out the board games.
~ Matt
