Here comes the summer. Or elite club football’s version of it. The Euros and Copa América, having inconveniently blocked out six weeks of revenue-trousering, are replaced by touring season. A bit like festival season, including hair-raising tickets prices, and disappointing acts failing to live up to their billing. Mind you, say what you like about Coldplay – no really, do go for it, let it all out – but not even the Trouble hitmakers would take the stage without Chris Martin. Take Saturday at Murrayfield, and a “prestige friendly” between Rangers and Manchester United, tickets costing north of £50. There may have been a first sighting of Leny Yoro, the reappearance of Jadon Sancho in red and the recollection that Mason Mount is a United player, but with 10 subs made, only André Onana playing the 90, this was an underpowered Big Red, even in the face of the club being underpowered in its entirety. For a $132 standard ticket, you can catch United in Los Angeles this Saturday, playing Arsenal. Here the summer tour cliches begin, of warm-weather training, of lesser lights impressing in training drills, of sit-downs with the manager and key execs before matches that will be instantly forgotten once the whistle has blown on the Premier League opening weekend. A prime example: Manchester City’s tour of the USA USA USA, its aim to strengthen the vice-like grip the City brand has on football romantics. Winning friends and influencing people will just have to take place without Kevin De Bruyne, Bernardo Silva, Rúben Dias, Matheus Nunes, Jérémy Doku, Nathan Aké, Manuel Akanji, Phil Foden, Rodri, John Stones, Kyle Walker, Julián Álvarez and Noel Gallagher. Which leaves Pep Guardiola considering whether Micah Richards might pair his club ambassador role with lining up in defence in one of those mammoth NCAA stadiums. So, thanks as ever, for Chelsea. It turns out the period they were owned by an associate of Vladimir Putin and overturned the entire European football economy was not the entertaining bit. Chelsea’s summer’s tour appears to have a selection process that Maximus Decimus Meridius in Gladiator would have been familiar with. Romelu Lukaku, Kepa Arrizabalaga, Trevoh Chalobah, Cesare Casadei, David Datro Fofana and Malang Sarr will not be flying out to face, er, Wrexham in California, among 43 (forty-three) players omitted. Having blown that billion on transfers, Chelsea need to sell, sell, sell, and pure profit is the name of the game. Chalobah, a gem from the club’s previously exalted youth academy, had waited for his turn to play for Chelsea via various loans and then, under Mauricio Pochettino, became a valued defender. But having cost the club practically nothing on a balance sheet, youth products become extra valued. Chelsea – unable to sell them to themselves, as with hotels and the women’s team – are left to cast poor Trev out on the open market. Grim, right? Really don’t laugh too hard, your favourite transnational corporate entity that used to be a football club will be trying the same. |