Fifa calls its tournament the Club World Cup, but by the time Manchester
United arrived at Narita airport, east of Tokyo, at 4pm local time on
Monday, a third of the world was on its way home. Oceania, an entity the
governors of world football barely think exists, considering its continued
absence from the real World Cup and the way its strongest country,
Australia, was allowed to jump ship to Asia, had been gone almost a week
and, more significantly, Africa had disappeared, too.
There have been other casualties, collateral damage, of this mishmash of a
competition, not least Stan Collymore, the former England striker, now
operating as a newspaper columnist. He fell victim to a combination of
faulty research, poor back-up and a curve ball of a fixture schedule, when
pronouncing that Manchester United would face disappointment in Japan. “They
will be up against some very good teams, like Al Ahly from Egypt,” he wrote.
“Their domestic game is very strong and I am going to stick my neck out and
say they will be crowned the best club side in the world.”
Those wishing to follow Collymore along this lucrative inside track will have
been disappointed at the bookmakers’ window on discovering that Al Ahly had
been eliminated by Pachuca, of Mexico, almost two days before Collymore’s
thoughts were even published.
There is no schadenfreude here, though, for there but for the grace of God
goes half of sports writing when trying to pronounce on Fifa’s logic in
assembling this tournament. Take the appearance of Adelaide United, for
instance, eliminated by Gamba Osaka on Sunday. One would think that, hailing
from Australia, they were the representatives of the confederation of
Oceania, but no. That would be the forlorn Waitakere United, of New Zealand,
who qualified by winning their continental championship with Kossa, of the
Solomon Islands, but were regarded with such disdain that they had to
pre-qualify and were knocked out by Adelaide, three days before United even
checked in at Heathrow.
Adelaide would be the strongest club in Oceania, except that Australia was
allowed to join the Asian federation from January 1, 2006, meaning that they
compete in the Asian Champions League. So they are in Japan as winners of
that then? No, wrong again. Gamba Osaka are the Asian champions and proved
it by knocking out Adelaide at the weekend, just as they did in the Asian
Champions League final earlier in the season.
So why are Adelaide present? Because Fifa insists that the host country — in
this case Japan — must be represented in the Club World Cup, just as the
hosts are in the real one. That would have meant entering Kashima Antlers,
winners of the J-League, but when Gamba Osaka landed the Asian Champions
League crown, it was considered too much to have two Japanese teams
participating in a seven-team tournament. The result was that, instead of
Kashima, the losers of the Asian Champions League, Adelaide, who are not
even from Asia, were entered instead. Crackers, isn’t it?
The first time Fifa attempted to organise an expansive club competition it was
a farce, too. The Club World Championship in Brazil in 2000 ended up as a
global non-event played out between two Brazilian teams and was won by
Corinthians, a club who have never won the Copa Libertadores, the South
American continental championship. They participated only as the champions
of the host nation, while Vasco da Gama gained entry as winners of the Copa
Libertadores in 1998. That another Copa Libertadores had been played and won
by Palmeiras, of Brazil, on June 28, 1999, did not seem to vex Fifa greatly.
Palmeiras, like Corinthians, are from São Paulo and Fifa wanted local interest
in the group based in Rio de Janeiro, so it sabotaged the logic of its
tournament to make that work, nominating Vasco da Gama, a club with a huge
following sited in the north of the city. What unfolded is remembered with
particular spite in England because it necessitated Manchester United’s
withdrawal from the FA Cup — although there surely could have been a
compromise — yet what is clear almost nine years on is that Fifa has learnt
nothing from the experience. At least in 2000 it got the numbers right, an
even figure resulting in a simple progression. The rebranded Club World Cup
consists of seven clubs, a prime number. Was no one on the Fifa staff paying
attention in mathematics class?
And the shame is that the Club World Cup should be a delight, one of the
highlights of the football season, prestigious and exotic, with a fixed
place in the calendar and hosting honours spread through each confederation
by rotation. All it requires is six teams — the champions from each football
continent — and a host city with two stadiums; in England alone it could be
held in at least six locations.
Let’s deal with the venue issues first. If Fifa feared local indifference, it
could be established that, on principle, the city of the defending champions
from the confederation whose turn it is to play host to the tournament would
be given first refusal. So this year, depending on the rota, that would mean
holding a tournament in Manchester, Quito (Ecuador), Cairo (Egypt), Osaka
(Japan), Pachuca (Mexico) or Auckland (New Zealand). Could this be achieved?
In five of six cases, yes.
Manchester would have no problem, with Old Trafford and the City of Manchester
Stadium, while Osaka has the 50,000-capacity Nagai Stadium, venue of World
Cup matches, plus Gamba’s home ground, the Expo ’70 Stadium, which has a
capacity of 21,000. Failing that, there is a baseball dome, with room for
36,000. Auckland has a 47,000-capacity venue at Eden Park, used for cricket
and rugby union, plus the 30,000-capacity Mount Smart Stadium, a rugby
league ground.
Liga de Quito, the champions of Ecuador, play at a 55,000-capacity ground,
distinct from the neighbouring Olympic Stadium used by El Nacional, their
city rivals, where the Ecuador team regularly attract crowds of 40,000. The
Cairo International Stadium holds 71,000 and near by the Cairo Military
Academy Stadium just under 30,000 (soon to be doubled after rebuilding).
