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Trouble brewing in Serie A
Posted: Tuesday May 02, 2000 11:34 AM
There's something rotten in Serie A. Something which doesn't quite add up. Sound the alarm. Man the pumps. There's an iceberg the size of Edmundo's ego heading straight for Italian soccer and, still, the band plays on. No, it's not the level of play or the fact that Italian clubs had their worst season in European competition since the early 1980s or that the national team wallows in its mediocrity, unloved by fans, clubs and probably even its own players. Potentially, there's a huge crisis around the corner, one which could severely cripple Serie A financially and which, if unchecked, could spell doom for other European leagues as well. On the surface, it's all smiles. In spite of the abysmal European displays, Serie A is still stacked with more talent than any other league. There is a depth of superstars unmatched anywhere. The pretenders to Serie A's throne, most notably England and Spain, still fail to match its drawing power. Quick, who was the last legitimate superstar at the peak of his career who was coming off a brilliant Serie A campaign and who was lured away for a lot of money by an English or Spanish club? Anybody other than Christian Vieri come to mind? The truth is that while some top players still leave Spain or England for Serie A (Darko Kovacevic, Jose Mari, Clarence Seedorf, soon Claudio Lopez), it doesn't quite happen the other way around. So the bright lights and big paychecks are still there. The cracks are appearing down below. The number of fans attending Serie A games has declined 2.3 percent this season. Box office revenues are down 2 percent. Both figures have been slowly falling for the past couple of years. Meanwhile, Italian soccer has the most lucrative television contract in the world. And yet the TV companies are terrified. They pumped zillions into the game, but aren't getting the kind of return they were expecting. Paying through the nose to show a soccer game makes little sense if you fail to sell sufficient pay-per-view subscriptions or advertising space. Apparently, that's what has been happening. One Italian newspaper estimates that television companies have only made back around 40 percent of what they paid for Serie A rights. You don't have to be Warren Buffett to know that this is a terrible return on your investment. This means that next time they sit down to negotiate their TV deals, Italian clubs will probably get less than they do now. The same fate could hit other European leagues in a few years time. Last month, Serie A and B clubs borrowed US $75 million to pay interest on outstanding debt. That's like getting another credit card to pay off your current bills. And yet, nobody seems to notice. Transfer prices continue to spiral exponentially. But the really worrying fact isn't that Christian Vieri cost US$50 million. It's that you need to pay US$20 to US$25 million for guys like Valencia's Francisco Farinos, Bari's Antonio Cassano (who has less than ten Serie A games under his belt) or Udinese's Stefano Fiore. These are decent players, but not superstars (though Cassano, at just 18 years of age could develop into one). Television money, or rather, the prospect of future television deals, is fueling these inflated prices. The problem is that future deals might be nowhere near as lucrative as clubs hope. Not everybody can hit the Champions League jackpot, which is why domestic deals are so important. Compounding the problem in Italy is the fact that television revenues are split between Serie A and Serie B. That's a total of 38 clubs, compared to twenty in England and Spain. Indeed, there are clubs in Serie B like Fermana and Alzano who seem to exist for one reason and one reason only: to suck up as much TV money as possible. Their home attendance numbers in the hundreds. They have so few fans that they all seem to know each other by name. When they're on TV, nobody notices and nobody cares. They cash in their disproportionately huge TV checks, buy expensive players and hope to avoid relegation. They are almost entirely funded by television and they contribute very little to the game. TV money is handed out based on appearances on the box, league standing and/or viewing figures. In the Premiership, for example, Manchester United gets around six times as much as, say Watford. But in Italy, AC Milan's slice is only fractionally bigger than Piacenza's or Cagliari's, even though the rossoneri obviously generate a lot more cash. Naturally, because there are more small clubs than big clubs, the system is unlikely to change. The sheer size of the last TV deal seemed to keep everybody happy. Juventus didn't mind getting only two or three times what Fermana got, because it was still a huge amount. But the next television deal won't be so generous. And the flow of cash could well slow to a trickle. Then what? EXTRA TIME: Kudos to Bayer Leverkusen, which, after three seasons near the top, is finally on the verge of winning the Bundesliga title. The dragon has been slain, Bayern's infighting and off-field worries have finally had the best of Ottmar Hitzfeld and Leverkusen, barring a collective suicide, will be crowned as champion. It's a just reward to a team which plays modern, entertaining soccer and, in guys like sweeper Jens Nowotny and Brazilan midfielder Emerson, has some of the most underrated players in Europe. Egil "Drillo" Olsen seemed to guide Norway to new heights thanks to a combination of stark defending, sophisticated tactical schemes and witchcraft. It wasn't pretty to watch. In fact, apart from some of Italy's most egregious "catenaccio" excesses in the 1960s and 1970s, it was probably the ugliest soccer ever played. But it worked. Last summer, Olsen joined Wimbledon and attempted to replicate his befuddling system in the Premiership. It all fell to pieces. His complicated, movement-based tactical arrays ran counter to a club which had always based its survival on grit, passion and, basically, kicking the ball as far up the field as possible whenever it got the chance. Wimbledon had always played a simple, direct game. Getting the squad to learn Olsen's system was like getting the incredible Hulk to learn table manners, i.e. close to impossible. Some players turned on him, others simply gave up trying to understand a guy whose message is often anathema to traditional soccer. While his style is often as appealing as a colostomy bag, Olsen himself can be charming. Most of all, he is an intelligent man, who knows how to admit to his mistakes: "I have completely misjudged the atmosphere, the environment and traditions," he said. It's refreshing to see a manager own up to his errors. London-based Gabriele Marcotti writes a weekly column on international soccer for CNNSI.com. To submit questions or comments to Gabriele Marcotti, click here.
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