When in November 2007 the sports minister Gerry Sutcliffe described Chelsea captain John Terry’s wages as ‘obscene’ [Ref: BBC News] he spoke for many, both inside and outside the game. Chelsea has become synonymous with the vast wealth floating around the game, with the players becoming the most visible beneficiaries of Russian billionaire Roman Abramovich’s injection of cash [Ref: The Times]. With the average wage of a Premiership footballer topping £1 million [Ref: The Times], a recent survey found that 64 per cent of the public feel that footballers are the most overpaid group in society [Ref: The Times]. The Archbishop of York has argued they should pay higher taxes [Ref: The Times]. He said it was just not right that a Belfast porter could earn £131 a week while a guest at the Beckham’s World Cup send-off party paid £50,000 for a ticket. The response to Sutcliffe and other critics has been fierce [Ref: The Times]. Daniel Finkelstein said footballers’ pay was entirely in keeping with their market value and Duleep Allirajah wondered why footballers were being singled out. Shortly afterwards, the controversy surrounding the alleged rape at Manchester United’s Christmas party brought the topic back into focus [Ref: Independent]. Terence Blacker saw such incidents as evidence of the moral degeneracy of footballers who have become divorced from the ordinary working people who pay their wages [Ref: Independent], while James Lawton saw it as a symbol of the excess specific to English football. Simon Barnes countered that, regardless of the veracity of the claims, much of the criticism was nothing more than snobbery. Meanwhile, Sol Campbell’s complaint that players were subject to unacceptable levels of abuse [Ref: BBC News] – a claim supported by some of the game’s leading names [Ref: BBC News] – suggested a footballer’s life may not all be about easy money, although Rod Liddle argued this comes with the territory [Ref: The Times]. Are footballers overpaid, over-indulged and under-performing prima donnas? Or are they uniquely talented individuals who entertain millions and have a right to be rewarded accordingly?

You’re going home in the back of a limousine
It was not always thus. There was a wage cap in British football until 1959, and there have been repeated calls over the last few years for football to follow the example of top US sports like American football, which introduced a wage cap in 1994 [Ref: BBC News]. Although a cap has been adopted in the lower leagues [Ref: Accountancy Age], it is argued that such a policy would be extremely difficult to implement without damaging the quality and competitiveness of the Premier League, and that other entertainers do not face similar curbs on their earnings [Accountancy Age]. There have been complaints that high wages lead to over-inflated ticket prices, but Crystal Palace chairman Simon Jordan believes that compared to other forms of entertainment like West End theatre, football is not that expensive [Ref: Guardian]. Jim White, though, argues that young people have been priced out of watching football, and that as wages and ticket prices rise so do expectations – fans expect to be entertained and are less tolerant of failure.

England are staying home
This point about expectations helps explain why footballers’ wages get so much media attention: England’s failure to qualify for Euro 2008. It is no coincidence that the players who’ve received the most criticism in relation to wages and behaviour – Terry, Ashley Cole [Ref: Daily Mail], Joey Barton [Ref: Independent] – are all English. There is a perception that their obsession with a celebrity lifestyle is having a detrimental effect on the quality of English football [Ref: Independent].

Who bought all the pies?
There are also broader social concerns being played out in the microcosm of football. Within days of England’s failure to qualify, UEFA president Michel Platini blamed free market economics and big business for destroying English football [Ref: Guardian]. Many ask whether it’s a mark of a fair and just society that footballers can earn hundreds of times as much as arguably more valuable workers like nurses simply because they’re lucky enough to have been born with a highly marketable talent. The Mayday for Nurses campaign sought to tap into this unease by asking footballers to donate a day’s salary to a fund for nurses. But critics detected snobbery, and it caused a furore amongst those who thought footballers were being made scapegoats [Ref: The Times] – criticised in a way that high-paid professionals like bankers and lawyers are not and when the real money in football is in the hands of owners [Ref: The Times]. Critics argue what footballers deserve to be paid should be decided by the market – by what fans are willing to pay and owners spend on pursuing success. Should footballers be expected to set an example, or are they bearing the brunt of a lack of proper political debate in society?

The player is a %?#!!?
Should footballers’ wealth and status go hand in hand with the expectation that they behave as good role models? Footballers are influential figures – used to promote causes such as environmentalism [Ref: Observer] and anti-racism [Ref: Guardian] – and blamed when they set a bad example on and off the pitch [Ref: Guardian]. But Rod Liddle argues it should be their skill and talent that does the talking, and Nicky Campbell thinks it is a tragedy that George Best is now remembered for his personal problems rather than his undoubted genius.