Premier League’s winter wonderland is part of the sport’s soul

LET IT SNOW: The English top flight sees a packed festive schedule unlike most of the rest of Europe’s other major leagues. (AFP)

LONDON: Every time England go out of a major tournament early — which has been every tournament since Euro 96 — some new solution is raised. They need to be more like the Dutch. Or more like the French. Or more like the Spanish. Or more like the Germans. We need to hold the ball more. We
need to remain true to our traditional strengths. We need a quota on foreign players. Our players need to go abroad more. Recently, a new panacea has been suggested: A winter break.
Germany has a winter break and they are world champions. Spain has a winter break and they were dominant before the Germans. The Premier League, the argument runs, is uniquely tiring. Our players are exhausted by the time they get to a major tournament. If they have a break midway through the season, it would give them a chance to recover, so they could attack the World Cup or the European Championship refreshed.
It is an appealing argument. After all, numerous coaches have blamed the wearying nature of England’s top flight — more competitive, fewer easy games, a more aggressive, physically demanding style of football — for the relative underperformance of English clubs in European
competition over the past few seasons. There is some — although not unanimous — medical evidence that players would be less susceptible to injury with a couple of weeks off.
Set against that is the fact that for many fans, Christmas football is the best football. Crowds are bigger and infused with festive spirit. Because so many people in the UK go back to their family homes for the festive season, games become annual reunions with old friends, people who perhaps live on the other side of the world who you see once a year.
Football in Britain has always had a community aspect and this is perhaps the strongest remaining example of that.
This is a subjective point, I realize, but for me one of the joys of English football is the range of conditions as the seasons pass, from the bright optimism of August to the sun-drenched despair or joy of May, through the dark and misty nights of the autumn and the collective breath of the crowd steaming in the crisp air of December and January. To take away the Christmas programme would be to remove a large part of what soul English football has left — and frankly, if that is tough on players, they are well enough remunerated to deal with
it. Nobody these days is expected to play through a quagmire or on a frozen surface that might directly contribute to injury.
And then there are the practical considerations. Give clubs a break and would the players really rest? Or would they be flogged around the world for a series of money-spinning friendlies? The English calendar is packed anyway: Where would the games go? Do we really want a shorter summer break with the season beginning in July? Much of English football’s wealth is derived from broadcast rights: Would
television companies really accept a blank couple of weeks in December or January?
And would it, anyway, really work? After all, there was no winter break when English clubs dominated European competition between 1977 and 1984, or between 2005 and 2012. Has the game really changed so much in five or six years? If anything the trend has been the increasing power of the super-clubs and, for a whole host of socio-economic reasons, the Premier League big six, powerful as they
are, are not quite as powerful as Barcelona and Real Madrid.
But what about the national team? What about the examples of Germany and Spain? Well, yes, but what about Italy, who have a winter break but have not even qualified for the next World Cup. What about all those years before 2008 when Spain had a winter break and won nothing.
Short-term correlation is not cause. And besides, the nature of modern football is that plenty of non-English players play in the Premier League. Was Mesut Ozil any less effective in 2014 for the want of a winter break?
The winter break has become a fetish, an easy answer to a more difficult question of English underachievement. There is very little evidence it would do any good, and the cost to the game’s soul would be enormous. Jingle on.