The problem with English football

The clock ticked past 2.15 on a Wednesday afternoon. This was a biology lesson. The teacher was explaining eagerly why photosynthesis is crucial to the ecosystem. I did not care about biology. I did not care about photosynthesis. At that time, I did not really care for the ecosystem. Yet here I was with four other third set lads waiting to leave.

 The school had an important football match. It was the semi-final of the district cup. My year was particularly good at football. I was usually a substitute. But the three others in this class were outstanding. The team could have done without me. But the team could not have done without them.

 The game was being played two miles away. As usual, we would travel there by walking for half an hour. There was no funding for a school bus. Being early spring, darkness was falling at around 6.30.pm. In order for school football matches be completed in time, the kick off had to be early. In theory, it occasionally meant that classes would have to be sacrificed. Surely it would be no big deal. Surely missing one or two biology lessons would not alter the destination of a human being. There were ways of catching up on lost time: over lunch perhaps - maybe just doing extra homework.

 But no - it would not be so simple. Sport does not really fit into the state education system – especially something like football: unruly, aggressive and competitive. Attending one or two more biology classes will teach you more in the long term than being a part of a successful group. Apparently.

 I was never going to be a footballer. I was never going to be a biologist. Although the other lads were never going to be biologists either, they were determined enough to become footballers. With the right guidance, it might have happened.

 That did not matter here. By leaving at 2.15, it would have allowed enough time to reach the ground, get changed, warm-up properly, have a laugh in the dressing room and get going. Yet the message had not been transmitted. The school had always boasted successful football teams. But this was an era of OFSTED reports, education, education and education. Maybe it did not intend to turn out like this, but football did not seem to be considered as education. It was all about achieving the right results, pass rates being hit and a path to university. Any person or any institution that did not conform was left behind. Sixteen-year-olds did not have apprenticeships. Schools were shut down. It was an industrial education with scant consideration for the individual.

 Perhaps this all contributed towards why, at 2.50, the teacher finally permitted our departure. It meant we arrived 30 minutes late: no time for a warm up - just straight into the game. One of the budding biologists got injured early on. Another just wasn’t his usual self. It went to extra time. We were not prepared. There was no energy left. We lost. We deserved to lose.

 This week, I discovered that one of the boys in the opposition was scouted by a professional club, partly as a result of his performance in this game. Now aged 30, he has enjoyed a reasonably successful career and is currently playing abroad.

 The point of this story is simple. We say football is engrained culturally in this country. Yet this is at odds with what is really happening in education and above that, in government.

 For football to flourish, there needs to be a shift in culture. The FA could, indeed, do a lot more. But the problems in football run deeper than the decisions made by those in charge of the sport.

 There was so much wrong with Greg Dyke’s speech about the future of English football this week. He claimed there is a need for radical action within football if the England national football team is to remain competitive. It was timed conveniently before a period, which will decide whether England under the management of Roy Hodgson will qualify for next summer’s World Cup in Brazil. If England fail to reach that target, there now is a ready made excuse. Hodgson is excused. The people who appointed him are excused. Self-preservation rules.

 Alarmingly, there was a lack of focus from Dyke on the primary reason why there are so few English footballers of genuine international class. Grassroots football is failing. It is just too expensive to play football. Participation figures suggest that football remains as popular as ever. It isn’t. There are fewer English players in the Premier League. But there are fewer kids playing football. Figures are misleading. Every amateur league demands that a player – be it a youth or an adult – signs forms at the start of every season. Most clubs will also charge signing-on fees, which, contribute towards the cost of the pitch, the cost of the kit, the cost of administration, the cost just to enter a league and the cost of facilities like changing rooms, which, reliably, are as inviting as a cell in a Turkish prison.

 The team I currently play for on a Sunday morning has more than 20 registered players. By the end of the season, that number will have fallen to 13 or 14 at most. Several will drop out, understandably fed up with shelving out petrol costs just to attend matches only to be selected as a substitute.

 The FA should find a way to subsidise costs – particularly at junior level. For the money involved in playing a full-season of amateur football you can buy a season ticket at Anfield or Old Trafford. That’s how expensive it is.

 The FA is awash with cash. It needs to play its part. But so does the government – those in charge of education. If you are good at football, you should be encouraged to play it – just like they are in other leading countries: Spain and Germany.

 Education is important. But football is an education. By being able to participate, a young person learns important transferable individual and team skills. Like in any other area of industry, a footballer won’t get very far without hard work.

 Maybe if the clock wasn’t allowed to drift onto 2.16, the landscape of football might not appear so desperate.