Interesting article in this morning's Times regarding Bilic with Payet now....and Bilic with us then.
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/f...-startlingly-stupid-or-self-deluded-xs8l86k28
January 16 2017, 12:01am, The Times
Fans who demand player loyalty are startlingly stupid or self-deluded
Matthew Syed, Columnist of the Year
For all the badge kissing, stars look out for their own interests like anyone in the job market
I think we have to acknowledge that a critical mass of football fans are stupid. These are the ones who bleat about disloyalty, who feel betrayed every time a player leaves their club, who fail to see that every player joining their club has left a previous one in turn and who go on to those tedious message boards to sound off about the injustice of it all.
What is going on in their heads? Are they so deluded to think that when a player kisses the badge, he is revealing his undying love? Can they not see through the pretence when players talk about their deep connection with the fans? Do they not realise that footballers, like most people in the job market, are looking out for their own interests, and those of their families
And do they not perceive their own hypocrisy? When fans moan about a lack of loyalty from players, they rarely reflect on the times they have called for an underperforming player to be axed. They rarely remember, when they bleat about the disloyalty of managers, that they are the first to call for a ritual execution when a result or two goes against them. Where is the loyalty then?
Football is not constructed upon loyalty, but the mirage of loyalty. Owners pretend they are loyal to the institutions they preside over, when their real motives are commercial or Machiavellian. Fans claim loyalty to managers — indeed, to revere them — without acknowledging that this loyalty is contingent on success, and is therefore not loyalty at all. Players claim that they are loyal to their clubs, but only until the point when they receive an inflated offer from Tianjin Quanjian.
And this is why the saga surrounding Dimitri Payet is so exquisitely timed. Slaven Bilic, the West Ham United manager, said that he felt “let down and angry” by his star performer agitating to leave the club and effectively going on strike. “He’s our best player and that’s why we gave him a long contract,” he said. “We gave him everything, we were always there for him. I expect him to show commitment.” Bilic is now cast as a hero to West Ham fans, as he calls for Payet to demonstrate the loyalty they crave.
But now rewind to March 1997 when Bilic was a player for West Ham, having left Karlsruhe for a juicy contract in east London. Back then, it was Harry Redknapp (the West Ham manager) who was “bitter and angry” after Bilic was approached with an even higher offer from Everton. “He’s the highest paid player in the club’s history,” Redknapp said. “He signed it . . . Now he wants a move and feels Everton are a big club, so there’s nothing we can do. West Ham are a big club in our eyes, but he feels otherwise.”
Sound like déjà vu? And yet here is the coup de grâce, the icing on the cake of hypocrisy. Bilic the player, responding to Redknapp, had a very different perspective to the one he parrots so convincingly today. “I had to do this,” he said when signing for Everton. “We are professionals — all players know, if anyone gets the chance of a big club, he must take it.”
These quotes, unearthed by David Hills of The Observer, should be stapled to the bedroom walls (or foreheads) of fans. This is football uncut. Football uncensored. Football as it really is. Sure, there are a handful of genuinely loyal players, but many of even the most revered icons bear little resemblance to the mythology. John Terry, for instance, used an approach by Manchester City in 2009 to leverage an enhanced offer from Chelsea, increasing his wages to a then astonishing £150,000 a week.
I don’t blame Terry for seeking a bigger deal; but I do retain the right to highlight his hypocrisy having secured it. Despite having gone silent for most of the summer while his agents threatened his departure from west London, he issued this announcement after the new contract was signed: “I am totally committed to Chelsea and always have been.” In much the same way, Diego Costa tweeted a blue love heart on Saturday as his team-mates, deprived of his company, defeated Leicester City.
So, why can’t fans see through the charade? Shouldn’t it be obvious to anyone with common sense that loyalty in football is a currency used to curry favour until the precise moment it can be cashed in? This is loyalty as make-believe, as a necessary myth. It is fans so desperately wanting to believe that the player whose name they chant reciprocates their fidelity that they ignore the fact his agent is, even now, on the phone to Shanghai.
Some of the furore over Payet is, of course, concerned with him recently signing a five-year deal. It has been argued that clubs should sue players who don’t turn up to training for breach of contract, a view with which I concur. They should also litigate against those who feign or exaggerate injuries. If clubs were bolder in these situations, it would signal, at the very least, that contracts have legal status and that cannot be wilfully ignored.
But the wider point remains. The only true loyalty in football is that of fans towards their clubs. This is the loyalty to cleave to the club even when they are relegated, to go to away games on a snowy day. It is the loyalty captured so beautifully by Nick Hornby in Fever Pitch. “Family and friends know, after years of wearying experience, that the fixture list always has the last word in any arrangement; they understand, or at least accept, that christenings or weddings or any gatherings, which in other families would take unquestioned precedence, can only be plotted after consultation.”
Everything else is carefully choreographed make-believe. Even Payet followed the script when signing his £125,000-a-week deal in February. “The love affair continues,” he said. “For me it’s a big step, an enormous show of faith from the chairman and manager . . . I’m proud to prolong my adventure with West Ham.” He also voiced the following words over an emotive soundtrack put together by West Ham’s multimedia department. “When you sing my name, I feel big. I feel strong. I can feel your support. I can feel your trust. I love to entertain our fans. I want to succeed with them.”
The words sound hollow now, but shouldn’t they have done so at the time? That they didn’t reveals either startling levels of stupidity among some fans, or a quite breathtaking capacity for self-delusion.
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/f...-startlingly-stupid-or-self-deluded-xs8l86k28
January 16 2017, 12:01am, The Times
Fans who demand player loyalty are startlingly stupid or self-deluded
Matthew Syed, Columnist of the Year
For all the badge kissing, stars look out for their own interests like anyone in the job market
I think we have to acknowledge that a critical mass of football fans are stupid. These are the ones who bleat about disloyalty, who feel betrayed every time a player leaves their club, who fail to see that every player joining their club has left a previous one in turn and who go on to those tedious message boards to sound off about the injustice of it all.
What is going on in their heads? Are they so deluded to think that when a player kisses the badge, he is revealing his undying love? Can they not see through the pretence when players talk about their deep connection with the fans? Do they not realise that footballers, like most people in the job market, are looking out for their own interests, and those of their families
And do they not perceive their own hypocrisy? When fans moan about a lack of loyalty from players, they rarely reflect on the times they have called for an underperforming player to be axed. They rarely remember, when they bleat about the disloyalty of managers, that they are the first to call for a ritual execution when a result or two goes against them. Where is the loyalty then?
Football is not constructed upon loyalty, but the mirage of loyalty. Owners pretend they are loyal to the institutions they preside over, when their real motives are commercial or Machiavellian. Fans claim loyalty to managers — indeed, to revere them — without acknowledging that this loyalty is contingent on success, and is therefore not loyalty at all. Players claim that they are loyal to their clubs, but only until the point when they receive an inflated offer from Tianjin Quanjian.
And this is why the saga surrounding Dimitri Payet is so exquisitely timed. Slaven Bilic, the West Ham United manager, said that he felt “let down and angry” by his star performer agitating to leave the club and effectively going on strike. “He’s our best player and that’s why we gave him a long contract,” he said. “We gave him everything, we were always there for him. I expect him to show commitment.” Bilic is now cast as a hero to West Ham fans, as he calls for Payet to demonstrate the loyalty they crave.
But now rewind to March 1997 when Bilic was a player for West Ham, having left Karlsruhe for a juicy contract in east London. Back then, it was Harry Redknapp (the West Ham manager) who was “bitter and angry” after Bilic was approached with an even higher offer from Everton. “He’s the highest paid player in the club’s history,” Redknapp said. “He signed it . . . Now he wants a move and feels Everton are a big club, so there’s nothing we can do. West Ham are a big club in our eyes, but he feels otherwise.”
Sound like déjà vu? And yet here is the coup de grâce, the icing on the cake of hypocrisy. Bilic the player, responding to Redknapp, had a very different perspective to the one he parrots so convincingly today. “I had to do this,” he said when signing for Everton. “We are professionals — all players know, if anyone gets the chance of a big club, he must take it.”
These quotes, unearthed by David Hills of The Observer, should be stapled to the bedroom walls (or foreheads) of fans. This is football uncut. Football uncensored. Football as it really is. Sure, there are a handful of genuinely loyal players, but many of even the most revered icons bear little resemblance to the mythology. John Terry, for instance, used an approach by Manchester City in 2009 to leverage an enhanced offer from Chelsea, increasing his wages to a then astonishing £150,000 a week.
I don’t blame Terry for seeking a bigger deal; but I do retain the right to highlight his hypocrisy having secured it. Despite having gone silent for most of the summer while his agents threatened his departure from west London, he issued this announcement after the new contract was signed: “I am totally committed to Chelsea and always have been.” In much the same way, Diego Costa tweeted a blue love heart on Saturday as his team-mates, deprived of his company, defeated Leicester City.
So, why can’t fans see through the charade? Shouldn’t it be obvious to anyone with common sense that loyalty in football is a currency used to curry favour until the precise moment it can be cashed in? This is loyalty as make-believe, as a necessary myth. It is fans so desperately wanting to believe that the player whose name they chant reciprocates their fidelity that they ignore the fact his agent is, even now, on the phone to Shanghai.
Some of the furore over Payet is, of course, concerned with him recently signing a five-year deal. It has been argued that clubs should sue players who don’t turn up to training for breach of contract, a view with which I concur. They should also litigate against those who feign or exaggerate injuries. If clubs were bolder in these situations, it would signal, at the very least, that contracts have legal status and that cannot be wilfully ignored.
But the wider point remains. The only true loyalty in football is that of fans towards their clubs. This is the loyalty to cleave to the club even when they are relegated, to go to away games on a snowy day. It is the loyalty captured so beautifully by Nick Hornby in Fever Pitch. “Family and friends know, after years of wearying experience, that the fixture list always has the last word in any arrangement; they understand, or at least accept, that christenings or weddings or any gatherings, which in other families would take unquestioned precedence, can only be plotted after consultation.”
Everything else is carefully choreographed make-believe. Even Payet followed the script when signing his £125,000-a-week deal in February. “The love affair continues,” he said. “For me it’s a big step, an enormous show of faith from the chairman and manager . . . I’m proud to prolong my adventure with West Ham.” He also voiced the following words over an emotive soundtrack put together by West Ham’s multimedia department. “When you sing my name, I feel big. I feel strong. I can feel your support. I can feel your trust. I love to entertain our fans. I want to succeed with them.”
The words sound hollow now, but shouldn’t they have done so at the time? That they didn’t reveals either startling levels of stupidity among some fans, or a quite breathtaking capacity for self-delusion.
