Arsènal (5 page)

Anxious to maintain control and to show the board good returns as a result of his own efforts, he found delegation a difficult art. Although he has denied this, he also did not easily accept the advice readily forthcoming from friends and associates alike. So when handling Arsenal's European competitions broadcasting rights (at this time there was no collective selling and the clubs managed their own rights), he favoured a tendering process, going with the highest bidder on the assumption he was getting the best market value. If he had worked with a rights specialist, the club in all likelihood would have secured a better deal but then he wouldn't have appeared as
the
rights expert to a board who didn't have a deep knowledge of the subject. But to be fair to Dein, he traded on Arsenal's status as a desirable addition to any sports agency's portfolio of clients. Indeed so keen were the German agency UFA to represent Arsenal that they guaranteed them the huge sum for the time of £1 million for their broadcasting rights in the 1991/92 European Cup. This backfired spectacularly for UFA when the English champions lost to Benfica in the second-round, and it was obliged to hand over a seven-figure rights fee for a pair of relatively low-profile ties.

In charge of the belated launch and development of the first Arsenal shop of any real substance at Finsbury Park station, Dein didn't make full use of the retail experience of a long-time friend who ran a well-known men's outfitter. “He doesn't readily take advice though he thinks he does,” said his friend more in sorrow than in anger, feeling he could have done more to help Dein smooth out the inevitable wrinkles of a new retail business.

In the 1980s, neighbours Tottenham had rebuilt their East and West Stands, of which their corporate boxes were an integral part. It made Arsenal's decision not to incorporate them in the redeveloped North Bank look all the more bizarre. If over 100 boxes could be filled at White Hart Lane surely there should have been no problem in matching that at Highbury, a venue closer to the city, offering a greater number of event-like fixtures, based on the comparative success and the aggressive marketing of the Premier League. The new North Bank stand might have been an impressive structure compared with the bland ones being erected elsewhere but it was not even maximising its season-ticket revenue, as prices of the bondholder's seats were – allowing for inflation – held down for a decade whilst giving no opportunity to milk what would become a hungry hospitality market in the years that followed. It was no surprise then that as late as 1997 – five years into the life of the Premier League – Arsenal's turnover was smaller than Tottenham's, lagged behind that of Liverpool and Newcastle, and was less than a third of that of Manchester United. It was taking much longer than Dein envisaged when he was one of the prime agitators of the breakaway league for Arsenal to sit in their (in his view) rightful place at the top of the pile.

In the mid 1980s, Dein had supported Irving Scholar's advocacy which brought about the reduction in the size of the First Division to 20 clubs, the introduction of play-offs and most significantly the abolition of gate sharing, which meant the big pay days for smaller clubs became a thing of the past. By the time the FA's endorsement allowed the old First Division to break away and to create the Premier League it was back to 22 clubs, much to Dein's distaste. Only Arsenal, Manchester United and Tottenham Hotspur voted against the increase. But the die was cast.

As his implacable adversary Chelsea chairman Ken Bates put it, “David Dein was so over the moon at getting his little Premier League, he couldn't understand why Ken Bates was so supportive. We got a few things in there . . . he's only now beginning to realise what hit him.” And enshrined in the constitution was one club one vote, which led irrevocably to the award of the live television contract for the new league to BSkyB, Rupert Murdoch's television arm having gathered in BSB to become the only satellite option for football. As Bates explained, “The clubs did the Sky deal [the vote was 14–6 with, amazingly, two abstentions] because we were deter mined to smash the Big Five dominance and we were determined to get a fair share of the money . . . if the ITV deal had gone ahead, the Big Five clubs would have been perpetuated.” Outmanoeuvred, David Dein was mortified at the turn of events: “It will be seen as a black day for football . . . it was like amateur night . . . the way it was presented, the way it was negotiated beforehand and the way it was subsequently implemented . . . how can you create heroes on a minority channel?”

Further, as one of the chosen few who had previously received preferential treatment from ITV, Arsenal were not – despite all the hype of the new deal – materially better off. Compared to their sizeable share of the £18 million at stake for the last year of the ITV contract, the more democratic allocation of broadcasting funds for the member clubs of the new league (50% equally divided, 25% according to television appearances of which there was a minimum number for every club and 25% according to the position in the final table) allocated little more to Arsenal. The £35.5 million first year's payment by Sky only made a significant difference to the smaller clubs outside the Big Five, of which Everton and Tottenham were soon reduced to the ranks by their lack of playing success. So much for the reputed sum of £304 million, which was based on including an estimate of overseas rights sales that were never realised. The actual sum paid by BSkyB for its five-year contract was just under £200 million.

In effect, the Big Five self-imposed money-making restrictions on themselves – at least in terms of the huge slice of the domestic television revenue pie – when they proposed the formation of the Premier League. From their position as one of the top dogs, Arsenal for the moment were back in the pack, with the objective of ensuring that they couldn't be outflanked again.

CHAPTER TWO

Arsenal fans might not give much thought to the dissolution of Yugoslavia that led to the war in the Balkans which claimed so many lives. But the conflict led to a sporting embargo and the football team being unceremoniously booted out of Euro 92 at the eleventh hour and replaced by Denmark. If Yugoslavia had participated, the sequence of events that led to Arsène Wenger's arrival and Arsenal's graduation to the status of one of the most popular and richest clubs in the world might never have happened. For without having seen him fire the Danes to an unexpected triumph in the tournament, it is highly unlikely George Graham would have purchased John Jensen, who inadvertently proved to be his nemesis. The Danish midfielder symbolised how the master had lost his touch in two ways. It was not only his lack of style as a central midfield player compared to his predecessors such as Thomas, Davis and Rocastle, the priority being winning the ball rather than how to use it once in possession. More pointedly, the negotiations surrounding his transfer ultimately led to Graham's dismissal in disgrace.

George Graham's downfall could not happen today. No longer do managers control the transfer and contract negotiations: after Graham's departure, David Dein (and subsequently Ken Friar) would undertake this duty on behalf of the club. When Dein first arrived at Arsenal, he may well have harboured ambitions in this area, but his involvement on the football side was curtailed by Graham, determined to be master of all he surveyed. Sadly, the situation created opportunities for abuse: the ‘brown envelope' or ‘bung' culture, whereby the practice of managers receiving under-the-table payments as a cut of a transfer fee provided by a player and/or a selling club's agent was all too prevalent. However, only Brian Clough and his Nottingham Forest aides were put in the dock alongside Graham as sacrificial scapegoats. (Moreover, any verdict against Clough was academic as he was already retired.)

Graham, who received a payment of £285,000 when Jensen was signed for £1.57 million from Brondby in July 1992 (and a further payment of £140,000 when he later bought Pål Lydersen) was brought to book not by the naive football authorities but by the Inland Revenue, concerned by the untaxed earnings of the Arsenal manager. They were alerted after the story first broke late in 1994 when Simon Greenberg, then a
Mail on Sunday
journalist and more recently Chelsea's Director of Communications, was tipped off about the discrepancy between the figure that Brondby received for Jensen and the amount paid by Arsenal. The deal was set up by Norwegian agent Rune Hauge. Graham later recalled, “The meeting [with Hauge] was all very normal but the money came as a shock. I thought ‘Jesus, what a Christmas present. Fantastic.' The ridiculous thing is that it wouldn't have changed my life. I was on a good salary, but greed got the better of me. I'm as weak as the next man when it comes to temptation.”

There was a sense that the easy money would not be so readily available in the future and that Graham's exposure had spoilt the clandestine arrangements practised by so many of his fellow managers. One of them pointedly remarked, “We all like a drink from time to time but the trouble with George was he wanted the whole bloody brewery.”

After the story came out, Graham was doomed, although he did hang on to his job for a few weeks. The fact that he had won three cups over the past two seasons doubtless prolonged his stay of execution. However, with the poor quality of the football on offer and the Highbury public enduring a fourth consecutive league campaign without having a shot at the title, the terminal rot had set in.

It is debatable whether Graham was acting in the best interests of the club when these transfers were made. Certainly PÃ¥l Lydersen never looked good enough to be a Premier League player, making a limited number of first-team appearances, none notable for anything other than his mediocrity. Still, some argued that he didn't stand out that much from many of his colleagues. Names such as David Hillier, Steve Morrow, Eddie McGoldrick, Ian Selley and Jimmy Carter are recalled by the fans as indicative of a slump in Arsenal's fortunes, although some of them did play a part in the cup successes of the time.

Alan Smith remembers the team going off the boil as Graham seemed to lose his touch, with talk in the dressing room rife. “We just thought ‘this isn't happening'. We were used to top-class players at the club and this was turgid stuff.” The tactics were pretty basic, described by Smith as “Wrighty, a big character, shouting for the ball and the players would hit him. It was not a creative midfield. Wrighty would get a goal and we would defend our lead. It made us a one-dimensional team.” Smith recalls his time partnering Wright as “the worst of my career, although it was not his fault. But if he didn't score, invariably we didn't, which detracted from our threat. We didn't play with any width so I wasn't getting too many crosses.” It was ironic that during this time, having for the most part sidelined Anders Limpar, Graham was offered Russian international winger Andrei Kanchelskis, but felt he was not what Arsenal required and allowed Manchester United to sign him. It was further evidence of a manager who had lost his way as Graham's reject gave Alex Ferguson a potent threat, in tandem with Ryan Giggs, from each flank. Smith would have loved such service, remembering, “My confidence dropped and I was at a really low ebb and that went on and on for about three years. It was totally unenjoyable and I felt like I needed to move. George would not let me go as he hadn't got a replacement.”

Smith now admits that the players got wind of the bung that led to Graham's downfall before the story became public knowledge: “We thought, he's buying players like PÃ¥l Lydersen because he's getting knockbacks for it. We'd heard a whisper a few months before. One of the lads had said they'd heard it on good authority, the rumours persisted and we began to believe them. His sacking was a shock when it came, but by that stage we half sensed something was going to happen. As we weren't championship contenders, it made it easier for the board.”

After the Premier League found Graham guilty of taking a bung from Rune Hauge (whose licence to practice as an agent was later withdrawn by FIFA) with the euphemism “Mr Graham did not act in the best interests of the club”, Arsenal finally dispensed with his services in February 1995 and shortly after he was banned from working in football by the FA for two years. Of course, he subsequently returned to manage Leeds and, of all clubs, Tottenham. It still seems remarkable that Alan Sugar could have hired a man who, three years before his appointment as Tottenham manager, had written in his autobiography, “I will always have Arsenal's red blood running through my veins.” Still, Sugar lived to regret it and after a parting of the ways in 2001, he commented, “In my time at Tottenham I made a lot of mistakes, the biggest was possibly employing him.”

A stronger Arsenal board would have dismissed the manager as soon as he admitted the transgression and returned the money, which ultimately had come out of the club's coffers as part of the transfer fees theoretically paid to the selling clubs, when in fact they went into the agent's pocket. The directors left themselves open to a charge that they might have been prepared to forgive and forget by the fact that they allowed the manager to spend £6 million on three players (John Hartson, Chris Kiwomya and Glenn Helder) just days before his dismissal, none of whom subsequently remained at the club long enough to see out their contracts. After years of relative financial conservatism, the profligacy was akin to the last days of the Roman Empire, blowing the finances as the club's reputation went up in smoke. Glenn Helder actually played his debut match hours after Graham's sacking, having been signed only seven days before. Did the board really want to sack Graham, or did they do so because of the external pressure?

Meanwhile, across the Channel, after rejecting Bayern Munich, preferring to see out the last year of his contract with Monaco, a certain young coach was summarily fired after an inauspicious start to the 1994/95 French season. With Arsenal in turmoil during the last weeks of the George Graham era, at David Dein's insistence Peter Hill-Wood took Arsène Wenger to lunch at his favourite restaurant – Ziani's – a stone's throw from his Chelsea home. But with Dr Jozef Venglos the only foreign coach in the Premier League hardly presenting a good advertisement for imported expertise – he lasted less than a year before suffering the fate of the majority of Doug Ellis's hirelings – the general atmosphere in football boardrooms was not exactly liberal and Arsenal decided to make an appointment closer to home.