This is, of course, the same question that exhausted South African ears over the past several years. It turned out that South Africa was prepared and that Danny Jordaan, CEO of the World Cup Local Organising Committee, had done a tremendous job. Jordaan, briefly a professional soccer player himself in the early 1970s ahead of his time as an anti-apartheid activist, is by all reports tough, humble. and hugely capable. The whiff of corruption does not follow him around as it does so many connected to FIFA (OK, there is one very faint whiff).

The man in charge of the 2014 World Cup, Ricardo Teixeira (president of the Brazilian Football Confederation (CBF)), has spent the past two decades doing little but generating suspicion of corruption in many of his dealings running Brazilian soccer. Teixeira is head of the Local Organising Committee, and also sits on FIFA’s 24 man Executive Committee.

Brazil’s Congress extensively investigated the corruption impeding the domestic game in Brazil at the highest levels in 2000-01: Teixeira, president of the CBF since 1989, was forced to admit he had lied about having only one bank account (conceding he had a second, operated out of the Cayman Islands at Delta Bank, at the time under investigation by the US government for money laundering). This Independent newspaper report on the Congressional investigation paints a picture of Teixeira struggling to hide his corrupt dealings, and making a promise to resign from his post in 2003 that he has yet to fulfil:

The president of the CBF was once the son-in-law of the former Fifa president, Joao Havelange. Teixeira has none of his mentor’s aristocratic bearing and has been regarded as an arrogant bully boy, yet even he has embraced humility as the inquiry has progressed. Even before his long-awaited appearance at the commission last week, Teixeira declared that he would leave the post at the end of his current mandate in 2003 and spoke openly about his mistakes. He admitted that some of the clauses in the Nike contract had needed correcting, and he agreed that he had erred in selling dairy produce from his farm to the CBF. As he shuffled through his files last week he gave the appearance of a schoolboy trying to cover up the fact that he had not done his homework. He had not brought an up-to-date version of the Nike contract and could not recall to how many politicians the CBF had made donations.

Ah, yes, João Havelange: the corrupt FIFA chief and the father-in-law of Teixeira at the time of the latter’s sudden elevation from obscure lawyer to head of the CBF. Soon, Teixeira was rich, with a condo in Miami, bodyguards, and an ever-increasing salary.

That CBF deal with Nike mentioned above left many wondering where all the money had gone: it certainly hadn’t filtered into development of the domestic game. The results of the Congressional investigations were damning for Teixeira:

The probe that exposed Teixeira began with a Brazilian congressional investigation (aka CPI) into a $4 billion, ten-year contract the Nike Corporation had with the Brazilian football conference (CBF). The investigation, as is the wont of many investigations, discovered a network and underlying web of deceit, lies, and illegal dealings that ran the gamut from forgery to outright theft of funds and bribery. The first CPI was in fact brought to a close with many of its investigative discoveries squashed because the committee itself voted to keep the report of its findings secret from publication. The reality was that many of the members of the investigative body were tied in with the CBF. Men such as Eurico Miranda were on the committee. Miranda also happened to be an owner of a team in the CBF, the Vasco da Gama club.  But Miranda, and others like him with CBF tie-ins, saw no reason to recuse themselves from the investigation or any ensuing votes because of this obvious conflict of interest.

It was a second CPI that the Brazilian congress convened that did trap Teixeira and others that were involved with the illegalities involving the soccer industry in Brazil.

Among the discoveries involving Teixeira were (1) he as the president of the CBF took on loans for over $30 million for the organization from a New York bank at the interest rate of about 53% annually; (2) he received from this same bank a personal loan but at the rate of 10% annually; (3) he supposedly helped to broker a $9 million fee to Jos Hawilla for acting as a go-between for the CBF and a Nike deal. Hawilla was a journalist for the Traffic Company. (That name Traffic sound familiar?) and (4) falsifying an expense of $8 million to be paid to a former partner, Marelo Tiraboschi, for being a supposed middleman for a ten-year sponsorship deal worth over $175 million with a company named Ambev.

The investigation was a humiliation for Teixeira, as it concluded that “Lack of control, disorganisation and bad management reign rife in the CBF. Mr Ricardo Teixeira, as president, is directly responsible for creating an environment which is ripe for an administrative disaster.”

The hundreds of millions of dollars that poured into the CBF’s coffers in the 1990s due to their lucrative deals with Nike and television company Traffic (run by a close ally of Teixeira) were spent without a budget, while expenditure on hotels and transport for officials rose 600%, and junket trips to the ’94 and ’98 World Cup were given to many people who had nothing to do with the sport, the investigation found.

Amazingly, Teixeira was reelected for a seven-year term as head of the CBF in 2007.

Last year, Teixeira was convicted of avoiding customs taxes, after returning home from the 1994 World Cup in the United States with 17 tons of imported goods that he failed to pay tax on.

Indeed, to go back to 1994, Teixeira had a run in with Pelé ahead of the 1994 World Cup that saw the star banned from the World Cup draw in Las Vegas, as Rob Hughes wrote in a 1994 New York Times article on Pelé’s elevation to Sports Minister in the Brazilian government:

And while Pelé, to my knowledge, has had a public run-in with only one man, that man happens to be Ricardo Teixeira, who presides over the CBF, Brazil’s soccer federation. More than that, Teixeira is the son-in-law of João Havelange, the Brazilian president of FIFA who single-handedly barred Pelé from the World Cup draw in Las Vegas a year ago.

It was an horrendous example of Havelange’s vindictiveness, and an early warning that the aging president intends to maneuver his son-in-law into becoming his successor in charge of the world game.

Pelé, then as now, was the catalyst between soccer and the American people; Havelange the autocrat blankly refused to speak Pelé’s name, or to discuss with his FIFA executive his reason for banning from the ceremony the greatest player the game has known.

We knew the reason. Pelé had accused Teixeira of corruption, of accepting a million-dollar bribe to favor one television contract over another, and Teixeira was suing Pelé in the Brazilian courts. So Havelange, having installed Teixeira on FIFA committees, shut out Pelé.

The backstory was that Pelé had attempted to purchase the broadcasting rights in Brazil to the 1994 World Cup, but had refused to pay $1m into a Swiss bank account as ordered by the CBF, under Teixeira’s direction. And then he had refused to keep quiet about it.

But Teixeira eventually won back the support of Pelé, whose attempts to lead reform of the Brazilian game in the 1990s failed. And that support from Pelé, coming right after the results of Brazil’s Congressional inquiry came out in 2001 and threatened to skewer Teixeira’s career, saved Teixeira, as they shared the stage to condemn the inquiry’s results. In Soccer Explains The World, Franklin Foer cites a columnist for the Brazilian sports daily Lance! on this sad moment for Brazilian soccer: “The union of Pelé and Teixeira is the biggest stab in the back that those of us fighting for ethics in sport could receive . . . He has sold his soul to the devil.”

This man, then, Ricardo Teixeira, is responsible for organising the 2014 World Cup, an organisation already described as “amazingly” behind schedule, and subject to Teixeira’s political needs, according to Tim Vickery:

Teixeira’s need to keep his power base onside has already affected the organisation of the tournament. Many state presidents wanted 2014 games to be staged in their domain, so the CBF successfully lobbied Fifa to have 12 host cities, rather than the original plan of between eight and 10. Seventeen cities applied – one later pulled out – and, to save Teixeira from the political embarrassment of excluding some of them, the final decision was pushed to Fifa.

Vickery, the most accomplished observer of the South American game we have in the English-language, concludes that the Teixeira-led power structure is the main danger to the preparations:

For all its progress, the moment in Brazil is very different [from South Africa]. Its football administrators could not be further removed from activists. They represent the old, semi-feudal Brazil.

Federal Deputy Paulo Rattes wrote a Congressional report on 2014 planning. “What struck me about South Africa,” he said, “was that there was participation from society and political leaders.” In Brazil, meanwhile, “it is a black box that no one enters, only Ricardo Teixeira and his friends.”

That black box of Teixeira is where the World Cup is headed in four years, sad to say.

The next two days feature games identified by the world’s foremost expert on match fixing in soccer as ones to watch: Cameroon vs. the Netherlands, and Honduras vs. Switzerland.

Declan Hill explains all in his blog, but here’s why he identifies those two games in particular (without accusing anyone of anything):

The fixers are in South Africa. They have been desperately trying to contact various teams. They have various runners and old contacts coming in and out of the hotels and training camps. They are trying ‘to do the business’ with various players and administrators.

[ .. ]

Given these circumstances which matches should we red-flag for possible corruption?

1)Games where one team has nothing to play for. Even if they win the teams will not progress to the next stage of the competition.

2)Teams which have a history of not paying their players properly. It is the phenomenon of relative exploitation which drives fixing. The officials receive lots of money, the players comparatively little.

The games I will be watching closely are Cameroon vs. the Netherlands and Honduras vs. Switzerland. In no way do I want to suggest that I have heard anything about players on these teams being open to fixing matches. In no way do I want to suggest that even if they had been approached the players would have taken money. But I do want to say that if either of these teams loses by more than the Asian ‘spread’ of goals (2 goals and above) then FIFA should bring in their toothless tigers of investigators and begin to ask questions.

Just, you know, keep this in the back of your mind for the next couple of days. It’s worth pointing out Declan has been proved right in the past in raising these issues; and moreover, his simple suggestion that FIFA pays players directly to avoid the kind of problems that tempt players (risking being unpaid at a tournament that rakes in billions for governing bodies and their officials) has gained no traction with the authorities.

It is very easy to stop the problem. FIFA should pay the players directly. There should be wages and incentive bonuses for every game won, for each stage of the tournament a player helps his team reach, even for the number of goals that a player scores. This money should be directly into the players’ bank accounts by FIFA. These amounts should be publicly announced. This way all players know exactly how much they are supposed to receive and if national associations or sponsors want to add to this money – great. But each World Cup player should not only know how much they will be paid, they should know they will be paid and paid well.

Why not, FIFA? Why not?

Big Story
Jack Warner has returned a handbag given to him by the England World Cup bid because of “embarrassment”, launching — even by his absurd standards — a bizarre rhetorical attack on the Football Association.

Most odd was his wording at the lack of the response by the FA to his concerns: “Equally disappointing is the deafening silence from you and the FA and which seems to support these allegations,” Warner wrote to the FA. “No one has sought to correct this betrayal in a way that would unequivocally remove any doubt or question not only in the global village at large but among my few peers where honour is valued and character is cherished.”

Who does Jack think he is, Sir Lancelot?  Last I checked he was a greedy and corrupt minor politician.

Warner then continued with an usual use of wording. “This malaise of my wife and I has been allowed to fester for too long much to our embarrassment and the embarrassment of the institutions which I represent. In this regard, therefore, there is only one recourse: a return of this gift, which has become a symbol of derision, betrayal and embarrassment for me and my family.”

It’s about you got some derision, Jack, just a shame this is for something stupid that the English FA did, and not for one of your own many abuses of power.

Worldwide News

• It’s getting a little old commenting on what a mess it is, but America’s lower league crisis continues to drag on. Match Fit USA looks at the revamp USL-1 is facing, and potential expansion to fill the gaps left by the renegade teams. Anyone fancy a trip to Detroit?
• Supporters of Celtic in Scotland and St Pauli have long had a close association, and 1,000 of the latter are set to join Celtic fans as they face Hamburg in the Europa Cup today.
• Glasgow’s other major team has had another less friendly week abroad in Europe: the behaviour of Rangers fans in Bucharest may lead to another fine for the club. “Seats were ripped up and thrown at stewards during half-time of the Champions League fixture at the Steaua Stadium, prompting Uefa to make a PA announcement threatening the suspension of the game,” the Scotsman reports, though Rangers chief executive Martin Bain blamed the poor treatment of fans for the trouble.
• In today’s Stan Kroenke update, he has upped his share of Arsenal again to 29.9%, but Russell Kempson cautions that he is not yet ready to pony up the remaining £460 million needed to control the club outright.
• EPL Talk has an interesting piece on the different treatment given to beat journalists by American and English sports teams. The former have learned that providing good facilities and access is a way to win respectful coverage, as Eric Altshule wonders why Premier League clubs are so stingy: “with a ravenous press population eager to promote their product and a worldwide audience ready to consume every nuance and tidbit, why do teams deny access with such militancy?”
• I hope you’ve been following the Guardian’s excellent series on location in South Africa, looking ahead to 2010.

The Sweeper appears daily. For more rambling and links throughout the day every day, follow your editor Tom Dunmore @pitchinvasion on Twitter.

However I am willing to hazard a few guesses about the conclusions to which small boys playing football usually come when they lose a match. And my gut feeling would be that by and large they don’t include paranoid conspiracy theories. We are constantly being told, here in Italy at least, that children are the soul of football, its last hope, its glorious future, the true keepers of proper sporting values, the enemies of cynicism, cheating and corruption.

Well, let’s take a look at that.

Describe a game of football between your class’ football team and another class’ team…

Ciruzzo’s shot went out and not in, but the referee was under the influence of the teacher, so the teacher won the cup. Us, our class, we should have won, but instead it was Professore Esposito’s class what won, because he gives him Christmas presents and my teacher who is poor doesn’t give him any. But it’s not right.

Then Professore Esposito when he had won the other games against the other classes was acting like the cock on the rubbish*, but if we’d been there there’d not have been any rubbish.

If Capretto hadn’t pissed that ball away we would have won the cup in the end but the referee made Professore Esposito’s team win if not he wouldn’t give him any presents any more.

But it’s not right. Now I don’t know whose tyres to let down, the ref or Professore Esposito.

* Traditional Neapolitan expression for bragging, acting the big-shot over weaker opponents
(From “Io speriamo che me la cavo”, ed. Marcello D’Orta, 1991)

This is a genuine primary school essay from a kid in a suburb of Naples, taken from a book I’ve been discussing over on my own blog. As well as being terribly funny – my translation does no justice to the beauties of the original – this story is really rather alarming, on several counts.

Is the idea of bribing referees really so deep-seated in Italian football? And regardless of the accuracy or otherwise of the allegations against Professore Esposito, is it axiomatic that when your team loses, it must be the ref’s fault? I would also draw your attention to the inherent threat of violence against referees and opposing managers with which our narrator concludes. Best slap a banning order on that lad pronto.

More seriously, this reminded me of some of the reactions to the calciopoli scandal. While outside Italy some expressed surprise at the idea of leaning on referees to influence matches, here the only surprise was that something was being done about it. In Italy it’s not cynical to think biased refereeing goes on; it’s hopelessly naïve to think that it doesn’t. If even small boys playing in primary school tournaments take for granted that teachers are bribing the ref, how can we doubt that it goes on in Serie A where, after all, the stakes may be higher? (though the chance of having your tyres let down is probably the same). After all, at Christmas in 1999 a number of leading referees were given brand new Rolexes by owner Franco Sensi (Roma’s very own Professore Esposito, it would seem).

Here on a daily basis we accuse one another of cheating and corruption. Rarely of outright bribery, nothing so crude; but of intimidating the ref with status and power (see the furore over the penalty Inter was given against Parma last month) or of improperly using financial clout and big-club status (see Palermo president Zamparini’s lunatic diatribe against Roma’s ball-boy last week). Being “furbo” – sly, cunning – is a positive attribute, a vital element of the winning mentality. It’s part of the normal, even essential, daily discourse of Italian football. And perhaps things have changed since 1990, but if not, these attitudes permeate all levels of footballing culture, right down to primary schools.

Italians are notoriously bad losers, often redefining gracelessness in their petulant refusal to accept defeat. But that makes perfect sense if you think that everything is most likely a fix. This mentality especially applies to the national side. When the Azzurri lose, it’s everyone’s fault but the team’s. Is this paranoia, though, or the cynicism born of experience? Domestically, everyone “knows” that’s how the “system” works. At an international level, some supporters in other countries naively think that matches are determined solely on the pitch, and fail to take seriously Italian conspiracy theories.

The true problem is that such paranoia becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: if everyone else is doing it, then you better join in, or you really will miss out. Far worse than the reality of corruption in Italy – and it is present – is the perception of its ubiquity. Italian football is a system from which trust has been eroded completely.

Photo credit: mirkocorli

It’s no wonder that David Conn’s 2005 book, exploring the at times putrid underbelly of English football, had a question mark at the end of its title, The Beautiful Game?

In it, Conn excavated the way fans have been robbed time and again in the so-called golden era for English football since Italia ’90 relegitimised football culturally and the Premiership brought unprecedented hype and Murdoch’s mountains of cold, hard cash to the top of the English football pyramid. He’s followed this up with his recent columns in the Guardian.

So what is the state of investigative football journalism today, given it seems to be more greatly needed than ever? Who better to ask than David Conn himself?

In The Beautiful Game?, Conn explains the truth and myths surrounding Hillsborough, explores the crises at the likes of York City and Sheffield Wednesday, and excoriates the “myopic” and “self-serving” F.A. for letting the rich get richer at the expense of the game as a whole, following the breakaway of the Premier League in 1992.

Thinking about this book, and recent subjects we’ve discussed here such as the work of Andrew Jennings on Fifa and corruption in English Football, I emailed David Conn to ask him about the state of investigative football journalism.

One thing on my mind was that when I wrote about Alisher Usmanov’s background here — as one of the first to do so, following Craig Murray’s revelations — I had seen a disturbing willingness of the football media to swallow the Uzbeki billionaire’s PR lines at face-value. It was only when this site, and others, received bullying legal threats from Usmanov’s lawyers, Schillings of London, that the media woke up to the story — and they still managed to get it wrong again and again.

So, the gist of my questions to David were to ask why the football media often seems to parrot PR, despite the investigative examples set by himself, Jennings and Tom Bower. His answer, as he thinks it would, did indeed surprise me. “People do ask why there is not more investigative journalism on football, but my answer might surprise you: I think there is a great deal compared to any other time in football’s history,” he wrote.

He went on to make four points explaining this answer, which are worth quoting in full.

• I could turn your observation “apart from Tom Bower and Andrew Jennings” around; for me it shows how healthy a situation it is. They are two very senior investigative journalists who for many years would have shown no inclination to look into football, but now have written major books on the subject. Panorama, too, until relatively recently, thought football a trivial subject, not worthy of its resources, but now, as you know, sees it as a major cultural and financial subject deserving of investigation. I think when I wrote my own first book, The Football Business, the perception of the game was changing and so I was quite early to investigate the serious issues, mainly the way the new money had been distributed, which I saw were unfolding then.

• There is a slight exaggeration at times of what “investigative” reporting is. Bower and Jennings stand out because they have written books requiring sustained research, but there is a lot more excellent daily news reporting by journalists on issues such as finance, club ownership, football politics, “bungs” etc which simply did not happen even a few years ago. You say there is too much parroting of the party line, eg on the Glazers, but the News of the World did a 2 page splash recently based on the Manchester United Supporters Trust’s calculation that the Glazer debt has gone up substantially because interest rates have increased. I don’t think Manchester United were very happy about it – and the NoW is a Murdoch paper.

• There is, though, a balance to be struck and the press, I agree, is generally favourable to football and covers it as a great, thriving, popular sport, which it is. Most readers are much more interested in reading about the matches, players and managers, than the finances. There is also the need to have access to the clubs to cover matches etc, and so there is a balance of power, too, between the game itself and the media. It’s a judgment about whether that balance is struck well, but I think there is more critical appraisal of serious issues, and money, than ever before.

• For evidence of this, I would point you to the Hillsborough Disaster. Throughout the 1980s, many major football clubs, like Sheffield Wednesday, were in breach of the regulations governing safety at grounds, putting supporters’ lives in danger. This was a huge scandal, the greatest in football’s history and the most disastrous, which resulted in 96 people dying at Hillsborough, yet there was no “investigative journalism,” into these issues at all beforehand, no exposure of it, nobody digging. Even after 56 people died in the fire at Bradford City in 1985, revealing an appalling approach to safety by the club, the issue did not develop into a subject for sustained journalism, and Hillsborough happened 4 years later. Coverage generally was more limited, and tended to focus on the matches, and be favourable to the clubs, with very little scrutiny of owners or their business records, or the clubs’ finances. There is hugely more coverage now, and with it, perhaps, more “investigative” journalism than people sometimes think.

Editor’s note: Brian, whose own marvelous Run of Play blog you really should be sure not to miss out on, will be bringing his brand of insight and irreverance weekly to Pitch Invasion.

In light of yesterday’s sensational arrests for fraud and corruption in football (scene: Police officers in riot gear swarm through the door of a modest Portsmouth home. MRS. HARRY REDKNAPP, clad in a nightgown, with curlers in her hair and a rolling pin in her hand, retreats with a shriek while her HUSBAND, flexing enormously, disappears under a mountain of policemen. Suddenly, a roar comes from under the pile, and Harry heaves them off, standing with a gleam of mad laughter in his eye as cops go flying) today seems like a good day to take a look at the state of the various corruption investigations in recent English football. I can’t keep them straight to save my life, but it doesn’t matter, because the first rule of any good corruption investigation is that you never worry much about the facts.

There are three basic levels of corruption in football: trivial, apocalyptic, and Italian. The lines of demarcation between these levels are extremely well-defined. Apocalyptic corruption becomes Italian corruption at the precise moment when a falling human body completes its descent from a seventh-story window. Trivial corruption becomes apocalyptic corruption when it happens within fifty feet of a reporter from the Daily Mirror. Of the three major corruption investigations in English football recently, all have involved merely apocalyptic corruption, although a full-scale Italian rating could still be achieved if someone makes Harry Redknapp angry at a sufficient height above sea level. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

1. The Lord Stevens/QUEST Investigation

What prompted it? The airing last September of “Undercover: Football’s Dirty Secrets”, a responsibly constructed and sensibly promoted BBC Panorama report which alleged, among other things, that football agents like money and so does Sam Allardyce. Any evidence that football agents and Sam Allardyce had pursued their shared interest beyond the limits of FA regulation remained purely in the realm of conjecture.

Who did the investigating? One John Arthur Stevens, Baron Stevens of Kirkwhelpington, the former police commissioner previously known for his unsporting attempt to quash conspiracy theories after the death of Princess Diana. Assisting him was QUEST Ltd., a specialist flooring contractor whose aim is to provide the complete flooring solution. Why the Stevens Report could not have been called the Kirkwhelpington Report is apparently down to a conspiracy to crush all whimsy in the universe.

What happened? The promise of fireworks did not result in a fireworks show. Lord Stevens investigated 39 separate transfers involving 8 clubs, but announced in June, to a great deal of hoopla, that there was “no evidence” of irregular payments to club officials or players. However, 17 transfers were flagged for “outstanding issues” involving agents. These included the transfers of Didier Drogba, Michael Essien, and Petr Cech to Chelsea. (Total value: £55.4million.) Somewhat less salaciously, they also included the transfers of Ali al-Habsi and Blessing Kaku to Bolton. (Total value: Less than I spent on lunch. And I didn’t eat lunch.)

Where are we now? Over and done with, essentially. Having tantalizingly crept up to the brink of concluding that football agents like money, the Baron of Kirkwhelpington adjourned, leaving the public to answer the question for themselves and the FA to pursue any disciplinary charges. So far the FA has seen no reason to bring Chelsea’s name into the mix so long as they can continue to pummel Luton (see below).

2. The Luton Investigation

What prompted it? The highly public meltdown between then-manager Mike Newell and the Luton board during 2005-06, during the course of which Newell winked theatrically at the press and elbowed them sharply in the side as he mentioned that the transfer dealings of the current board were entirely above board and would not bear looking into. Newell also spoke to the BBC Panorama program last September and heroically offered to expose anyone who had offered him money, ever, for anything.

Who’s investigating? The FA. High-profile members of the landed gentry are not that interested in League One clubs, evidently.

What’s happened? So far, the FA have handed down 55 charges, the majority relating to improper documentation of payments to agents made through Luton Town’s holding company…I know, you can’t bring yourself to care, and it’s brutal. Basically, Luton Town are owned by a parent company called J10. Various routine payments to agents during player transfers were made by J10 rather than by Luton. It’s sort of all the same thing, but if you don’t get your paperwork right the FA will crush you like a snake. (Two members of the Luton board have resigned and the club has gone into administration since the charges were handed down.) What’s worth noting, and what you probably missed in the hammering Luton took in the press, is that the payments themselves were largely not corrupt, only the way they were recorded. Burn in hell, Luton Town. Suffer the long night of the damned.

Where are we now? At an exciting moment, you’d think, as the parties have to respond to the charges tomorrow. But since everyone’s stopped paying attention to this story, it’s really anyone’s guess. As a piece of choreographed media frenzy, the moment has probably peaked.

3. The City of London Police Investigation

What prompted it? Mike Newell may have been doing some undercover work. It really isn’t clear. The scope of the investigation covers “allegations of corruption in football and its impact on investors and shareholders.” Striking a blow for the common supporter, then.

Who’s investigating? The Economic Crimes Unit of the City of London Police. It’s no Kirkwhelpington, but it will do in a pinch.

What’s happened? So far, a great deal of innuendo, a couple of high-profile raids, and the incredible arrest of Harry Redknapp. Because of the people involved in yesterday’s arrest, it’s believed that the investigation is focused on the transfer of Amady Faye from Auxerre to Portsmouth (where Harry was manager and his fellow incarceree Milan Mandaric was chairman) in 2005 and his subsequent move to Newcastle in 2006. Willie McKay, the agent who arranged both transfers, once bought Harry a racehorse called Double Fantasy. McKay was also arrested yesterday. Double Fantasy remains at large.

Where are we now? Right in the thick of it. Harry is somewhat bizarrely claiming that being arrested proves his innocence and Portsmouth are portraying the arrests (which also took in Pompey CEO Peter Storrie) as polite requests for assistance from the police. The Daily Mail (sorry) are claiming that “another high-profile manager” is being probed. It’s impossible to say whether this is all a media stunt by the police, as Harry has alleged, or whether anvils are about to drop on the heads of the rulers of Portsmouth. If you work as a travel agent, and Sam Allardyce wanders into your shop in the next few days to book a ticket for his long-dreamed-of vacation to Panama, please do contact this space.

Brian Phillips is accepting bungs all day long at The Run of Play.

Yet less than twelve months ago, Valcke, then FIFA’s marketing director, faced ruin following the finding of an American court that he had lied to both Visa and Mastercard during sponsorship negotiations for the 2010 and 2014 World Cups.

Shortly after, he lost his job and seemed destined for oblivion. But he was reinstated as the ruling went to the appeals court, and FIFA finally settled out of court for a mere US$90 million with Mastercard.

Amazingly, just six months later, Valcke was promoted to an even more powerful position in FIFA as Blatter’s number two. As ever, acclaimed investigative journalist Andrew Jennings cuts through the bullshit surrounding this bizarre timeline of events, and simply asks in today’s Sunday Herald: “What hold does the mendacious Valcke have over the wily Blatter, to prise out of him the game’s No 2 job?”

Valcke was asked whether he knew of corruption at FIFA by The Independent in the summer, answering that “Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but I can swear on the people I like the most that I have never seen in my four years at Fifa… something where I could have said, ‘Oh, this is corruption’.”

But pay attention to his careful wording of “in my four years at Fifa,”, for Valcke had close dealings with Sepp Blatter in 2001, before he worked for FIFA. Jennings explains:

Wind the clock back, it’s Spring 2001. The sports marketing company that pays hefty bribes to certain of Fifa’s leaders in return for billion-dollar World Cup contracts sinks into insolvency. In the 1990s the ISL company has parted with nearly £20 million in kickbacks. The well is dry.

Along comes Monsieur Valcke and a band of entrepreneurs from the Vivendi company in Paris. They will buy the wreckage of ISL and its dreamy World Cup television and marketing contracts. But, first, due diligence, as the forensic accountants call it, to see what assets are left and how the company got its business.

Valcke and his team look hard at the books, have exchanges behind closed doors with Fifa, then suddenly go home to Paris, leaving ISL to crash. There’s never been an explanation of what went wrong [. . .]

After the crash I went to the first creditors’ meeting in a salon in the city of Zug, cornered the liquidator and secured the easy admission that he had found evidence of dirty money washing around ISL’s basement and out to Fifa officials.

The bribes went to offshore companies and accounts connected to some members of Fifa’s executive committee. Any trainee accountant would have found the money-trail his first morning excavating ISL.

Did Valcke and his team find the same evidence? How could they not? Everybody in the sports marketing loop knew, had gossiped for years about the screamingly obvious.

And Jennings has gained possession of a key document that discusses “threats” made by Vivendi’s lawyer Alain Goor to FIFA as the negotiations unravelled. In the letter from Blatter to Valcke, he asserts that “the position of Fifa in no way will ever be altered by any threats or attempts of blackmailing.”

Clues to what the “blackmailing” threat refers to can be seen in two memos sent to Blatter from FIFA’s Zurich lawyers, Niederer Kraft & Frey, which suggests Vivendi had threatened FIFA with “extremely serious consequences” against what Blatter himself describes as “certain gentlemen of FIFA.”

Ultimately, those “serious consequences” were evaded by FIFA’s “gentlemen” and two years later Blatter picked Valcke to run FIFA’s marketing in-house. When Valcke blundered and lied his way into a massive humiliation that cost FIFA $90 million, he only found himself promoted months later.

Valcke will be all smiles again today at the draw, but one hopes it won’t be long until it’s justly wiped off his face for the good of the game.

You can read the Blatter’s letter and the FIFA memos at Jenning’s website, Transparency in Sport.