Towards the end of his reign as Premier League head honcho, Richard Scudamore wore a look of resignation. Sat in a meeting with supporters from across the division, the man who owned enough political savvy to tear up Whitehall privately admitted that his currency had run out.
Rail fares were an issue. Still are, actually. Worse than ever. There were calls for the league to lobby for more flexible ticketing or suggest a subsidy system to their member clubs to mitigate spiralling costs of following a football team. Whether it was reasonable to expect that is somewhat moot, because Scudamore’s answer revealed everything about the culture of boardrooms in our top flight.
‘I’m not going back to the well so soon,’ he told those in the room. Case closed. Scudamore was described as appearing exhausted after a lengthy battle to twist the arms of executives to cap away tickets at £30. He managed it but the energy to go again, with 20 clubs all presenting different needs, problems and varying degrees of obstinance? Even for him, the answer was a resolute no.
That £30 cap is set for a review next year. Some clubs wanted it bumping up to £35 the last time it was renewed, in 2022, but were warned against the PR backlash for the sake of a fiver. It’s one to watch amid a culture war over season ticket prices that has lit a fuse underneath fanbases up and down the land.
Here lies one of the most critical issues in the sport: as the Premier League modernises, Americanises, a depth of feeling festers that those who have contributed to our country’s spectacle and that envied soul are being eased aside. Slowly, but surely.
Perhaps now, at this moment in time – as football races painfully clear of the working man and woman – is when enduring the
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