I wish I had personal staff. Obviously I have got an accountant, a solicitor, a chiropodist, an audiologist and a physiotherapist – who hasn’t? – but I only see them once a year, if that. Oh, and a barber who is on the council estate behind Michael Palin’s house. I used to go on Pensioners’ Day, but I hardly see him now since I started growing a ponytail, despite the lack of hair. If all footballers have one, why can’t I?
If only I had been a Premier League footballer. I could have staff in every room of my mansion. And at work. And at the training ground. But I don’t think I would be as generous as Pep Guardiola. Guess what he recently gifted each member of his first-team support staff? Only £10k each. But we’re not talking about the football staff as in the technical people – the coaches, physios, medics and video analysts who help Pep and the team with training, tactics, fitness. We are talking about the non-football staff who work behind the scenes at the club’s training base, where the first-team players assemble and get fed and watered after or before training. Folks like chefs, waiters and waitresses, receptionists, baristas, cleaners, laundry workers, security staff.
Now guess how many of these there at City. Come on, just a rough estimate of how many received a £10k bonus from Pep. Well, they deserve it, keeping the players happy, comforted and clean, cheerfully welcoming when they roll in for a hard day’s training, usually by about 10am. Then the players knock off around 12pm for lunch, chat with each other before going on their mobiles to talk with agents and financial advisers. Unless, of course, they are injured and need to lie down a bit longer, having their poor old tired limbs attended to.
Right then. Have you guessed how many of these non-football related staff Man City has? Seventy! Good grief.
In a way it all makes sense. The large sums of money in the Prem these last 20 years has not just enabled the top players to get £10m a day – or is it a year? – just for kicking a ball around, but has made the chief executives and lawyers, agents and financial advisers incredibly wealthy.
But the money has eventually trickled down to ordinary workers. Only fair. After all, they are caring, however indirectly, for the talent. Cleaners have to pick up sweaty shirts; gatemen and security have to keep out the press, public and fans from their enclosed, private community. The money coming into football today is enormous – from TV, merchandising, advertising and the loyal fans who have to pay thousands a year for seats.
Back in the Seventies, when I spent a year living with the Spurs for a book at White Hart Lane and at the training ground at Cheshunt, none of the players had an agent or lawyer. They were on £10k a year and lived in modest semi-detached houses. Bill Nicholson, the manager, had an assistant, a trainer and a physio for the football-related needs of the first team. At Cheshunt, the training ground had about four people in the kitchen, making them a simple lunch each day. No security. Locals with dogs could walk around the pitches and watch the lads training. Now they would be shot on sight if they ever got through the watchtowers.
Today Spurs is estimated to employ a total staff of 1,500, including people working abroad. Man City is said to have 1,900. Man United, under its new owners, are trying to shed 250 staff. Good luck with that.
I am struck by how Lee Carsley, the interim England manager, always seems to be working alone, not talking to anyone, whether that be in the stands watching games or on the bench with England. Is he Billy No-Mates, or going back to the olden days with few staff?
I do have some personal domestic staff: a cleaner at my holiday home in the Isle of Wight and an occasional gardener at my London home. I am not quite as generous as Pep, but I do invite each of them to my parties. And they get a bottle of wine at Christmas.
[See also: Arsenal Women must regret letting go of their star player]
This article appears in the 02 Oct 2024 issue of the New Statesman, The fury of history