I stole it too. Feel like Robin Hood now
Ferdinand adds to England's burden
By Simon Barnes
THE latest sporting controversy lays bare a sad fact of modern sporting life: no one is surprised any more at any story about any drugs in any sport, no matter who is involved.
Rio Ferdinand is a centre back of great distinction. Two things distinguish him from the competition: (1) an air of grace and sang-froid in possession; (2) the certainty that no matter how self-assured he looks, he will always commit at least one catastrophic error per match.
Ferdinand failed to supply a sample of his urine when requested to do so for a drugs test. This would seem to represent one of Ferdinand’s trademark catastrophes. What I always love about watching Ferdinand is that he treats his silken touches and his schoolboy howlers with the exact same degree of lofty disdain. But this time, for once, looking cool and distinguished won’t actually do the business.
Remarkably, Ferdinand maintained his reputation for cool even after drinking alcopops and getting busted the morning after his 18th birthday. He failed a breath-test at the age when he was first touted as the answer to England’s defensive problems for years to come. But looking cool has always been Ferdinand’s best trick. It prompted Manchester United to pay £30 million for him.
Football has long had an uneasy relationship with drugs. Naturally, the sport wants a squeaky-clean, role-model image, but it has never actually bust a gut when it comes to catching people. Mark Bosnich, the former Chelsea goalkeeper, was banned from playing for nine months when traces of cocaine were found in his urine sample but, by then, he was probably the most expendable footballer in the world. It sets an awkward precedent, though, when it comes to drugs cases with less expendable footballers.
The trouble with an effective drugs programme is that it is going to catch a lot of people. Cleaning up a sport requires that you first give the impression that the sport is full of druggies. This is precisely what happened with athletics, with swimming, with cycling. No sport wants to be like that.
Whether the drugs make you better at sport or give you lots of fun, what remains is that we are talking about stuff that can be lethal. Paul Merson, the former England player, has written disturbingly of his addiction to alcohol, gambling and cocaine — problems football doesn’t like to talk about.
So, to put things at their very mildest — even though there is no suggestion that Ferdinand was involved in taking drugs — a failure to provide a urine sample is a vote for a drugs free-for-all. As for the rest, it is now in the hands of m’learned friends and of a Football Association that seems unsure of its own policy on drugs.
Football is increasingly becoming an arena of social irresponsibility. We seem to be nurturing a generation of talented, privileged and protected young men. Increasingly, we get hints of a louche and expensive world in which the gilded few can do what they like and never pick up the moral bill. In modern footballing life, it seems that everything is permitted so long as the tabloids don’t hear.
And as we sit back to condemn these over-rewarded boys and shudder at the massive temptations they can afford, it is worth wondering what created this troubling situation. For the answer is us.
We did it. We did it by liking football. All of us who watch the game are part of the spiralling business of money and spectacle and excitement and triumph and disaster. Things are running out of control and it is all done to bring us pleasure.
So will the nation take a moral stance and refuse to watch Saturday’s match between England and Turkey to demonstrate that enough is enough? I think not. Therefore, we accept the situation. And we are willing to let the cycle continue.