Less than a year ago the possibilities seemed endless. Around 76,000 fans had crammed into Sydney’s ANZ Stadium in January to see history emphatically made. Australia’s 2-1 defeat of South Korea in the Asian Cup final, achieved with a climatic extra-time goal, was a proud moment – the Socceroos’ first real silverware after a decade of competition in the region.
The 2015 Asian Cup was a resounding success, a glowing example of multiculturalism, of fan engagement and of a national team reborn under Ange Postecoglou. The tournament itself was a mixture of noise, colour and passion, a potent mix of different cultures and nationalities coming together and representing all that what was good about football in Australia.
How quickly things can change.
The events of the past week and a half have splintered the sport, exposing a wedge between fans and Football Federation Australia that is expanding at a worrying rate. Started by a poorly constructed and obvious attack by a newspaper columnist, momentum has grown as conservative shock jocks and small-minded identities from other sports have also weighed in to criticise the game. This is not surprising, football has faced these kinds of baseless attacks in Australia for decades.
But what has deepened the crisis and poured further fuel on the fire has been FFA’s reluctance to defend its own supporters or to mend its ways. Football’s leadership has bottled the chance to unite the code in the face of opposition from sections of the media and police. It’s a spectacular own goal that has ripped open divisions that have been apparent for some time.
Ever since Frank Lowy arrived as the anointed savior of the sport in 2003, tensions have bubbled away under the surface. The Westfield supremo’s “my way or the highway” approach did not resonate with all as “old soccer” was pushed out to make way for “new football”. While Lowy has undoubtedly had a powerfully positive impact in launching the A-League and securing Australia’s move into the Asian Football Confederation, among several other major achievements, his autocratic style alienated many.
This discontent has festered over the past 10 years over a variety of issues, from the ill-fated 2022 World Cup bid, the axing of North Queensland Fury and Gold Coast United, ownership and financial troubles at several A-League clubs, the expensive registration fees individuals are charged to play football to the introduction of the National Curriculum and the establishment of the controversial National Club Identity Policy.
The list is lengthy. In the past six months alone we’ve had several more – Wellington Phoenix being denied a 10-year licence, the parachuting of Steven Lowy into his father’s position as chairman, the public gagging of Postecoglou and the bitter fight between FFA and Professional Footballers Australia over the new collective bargaining agreement.
In this 10-year period FFA has remained intransigent and over-sensitive to criticism, either unwilling or ignorant to change and transform into a more transparent organisation.
But the dual straws that have broken the camel’s back have been FFA’s confused – and confusing – stance on the right of appeal for banned fans, and its silence in defending its own. The totalitarian approach of the governing body to a key stakeholder, the very people it uses to promote the competition and capitalise off, has led to the proposed boycotts across the A-League this weekend. The effect could be devastating
Chief executive David Gallop had the chance on Tuesday to ease tensions and finally unite warring factions, but his bumbling press conference was more Tony Abbott than Barack Obama in terms of oratory. Broken down to blithe, repetitive PR speak, the experienced administrator spouted empty rhetoric.
In keeping with the famous line in the film Network from the 1970s, football fans are mad as hell, and they’re not going to take this anymore.
FFA has to learn that they can’t have it both ways – the governing body wants passion and atmosphere from fans, but it won’t get that when you ostracise active support in the way they have.
Its public flip-flop on the appeals process has shown it up as an organisation that is poorly led, riddled with fear and out of touch with the supporters on the terraces.
If fans are considered the lifeblood of the game, why is FFA risking cutting them off with their contradictory double-speak? All in the name of refusing to anger sections of the media and appearing tough on so-called hooliganism. Nobody wants trouble or violence at matches, but the simple truth and the facts show that football has no more of a problem with fan misbehaviour than does Australian rules, rugby league or cricket. This is a problem of perception, of image, rather than one of reality.
Football in Australia is now at a critical crossroads. It started 2015 with success but now it is limping towards 2016 with disaster looming on the horizon.
The message is clear to FFA – evolve and reform, or perish. The time to act is now.
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