Before diving in, let’s establish two fundamental truths: football is the world’s most captivating sport, and I approach it without allegiance to any single team. This perspective allows for an objective appreciation of the beautiful game, untainted by the intense highs and lows experienced by dedicated fans. While I admire the passion of supporters, my enjoyment comes from the sheer spectacle of football itself.
The recent Champions League round of 16 fixtures, particularly the thrilling Monaco-Manchester City clash, sparked a reflection on just how captivating European club football can be. Pundits and journalists were quick to praise the round, filled with drama and unforgettable moments, including Barcelona’s miraculous comeback against Paris Saint-Germain – a game that will forever be etched in football history.
This season’s round of 16 witnessed a staggering 62 goals across 16 matches, averaging 3.8 goals per game. This goal fest was a treat for neutrals and a rollercoaster for fans of the fortunate eight teams that advanced after a captivating 29-day period.
The quarter-final draw promised more excitement, but my attention was particularly drawn to Leicester City’s journey. Not just as the sole remaining English team, but as a fairytale narrative, a campaign destined to become legendary for their supporters, echoing their improbable Premier League triumph.
Amidst this Champions League fervor, my thoughts drifted back to a Real Madrid versus Napoli encounter from 1987. I was a 14-year-old, deeply immersed in football obsession. This particular match was significant because it featured my idol, Diego Maradona, against a star-studded Real Madrid side boasting the likes of Emilio Butragueño.
However, this wasn’t a Champions League fixture; it was something even grander – a European Cup tie. Crucially, it was a first-round match, unlike the strategically crafted last-16 pairings of today.
Maradona had just propelled Napoli to their first-ever Serie A title, earning them entry into Europe’s premier club competition. Back then, participation was exclusive to league winners, unless you were the defending European Cup champion.
Intriguingly, the first leg in Madrid was played behind closed doors as punishment for crowd trouble in the previous season’s semi-final against Bayern Munich. Real Madrid secured a 2-0 victory in an eerie atmosphere, before traveling to Italy for the return leg. An early Napoli goal ignited hope, but a Madrid equalizer extinguished it, ending Napoli’s maiden European Cup voyage in the first round.
This very fixture, it’s argued, indirectly paved the way for the Champions League, or at least a precursor to it. Silvio Berlusconi, AC Milan’s owner, was reportedly appalled that two footballing giants could clash so early in the competition. The prospect of a major club exiting so soon troubled the Italian magnate, who feared the same fate could befall his beloved Rossoneri. From this concern, the idea of a European Super League emerged – a concept designed to ensure consistent clashes between Europe’s elite clubs.
Image alt text: Red Star Belgrade European Cup victory in 1991, a symbol of the old competition’s unpredictable glory.
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The Super League didn’t materialize then, but the unease about early exits for big clubs resonated. UEFA recognized the need for a competition structure that would allow major clubs to remain involved longer. The result was the evolution of the European Cup into the ever-changing Champions League format.
In the European Cup era, fate played a significant role in each team’s journey. The draw itself was a spectacle, creating a sense of national unity as fans rallied behind their country’s representatives – a mini-European Championship unfolding annually.
Weeks before each draw, anticipation would build. For many, including myself, it was a geography lesson in disguise. Armed with an atlas and newspaper, I would analyze the draw, tracking the journeys of British clubs, identifying the longest trips eastward, and pinpointing the glamour tie of the round.
In a pre-internet era, before the fall of the Iron Curtain, any match east of Vienna felt like venturing into the unknown. Stories and myths would circulate – tales of arduous journeys, challenging conditions, and even exaggerated dangers. The European Cup draw became a source of fantastical football narratives, almost mythical in their remoteness.
Highlights, usually aired on Sportsnight, offered glimpses into these distant footballing worlds. We’d see unfamiliar stadia, often with running tracks encircling the pitch, and recognize names from World Cups, now playing in different kits, yet showcasing familiar brilliance. It was a gradual realization that Michel Platini, in Juventus’s black and white stripes, was the same elegant playmaker who graced the French national team in the 1982 World Cup.
Uniquely, the European Cup could even create the rare possibility of domestic clashes, a badge of honor for nations boasting the reigning European champions.
This occurred in the 1978-79 edition. Nottingham Forest, under the legendary Brian Clough, fresh off their league title win, entered the European Cup for the first time. Their first-round opponents? Liverpool, the reigning European champions for the previous two years. It was the tie of the round, demanding no atlas for geographical context.
Forest triumphed 2-0 in the first leg and held Liverpool to a 0-0 draw at Anfield. Their European journey had begun, defeating the favorites in the opening round, ultimately leading to their first European Cup title. Remarkably, Nottingham Forest remains the only club to have won more European Cups than domestic league titles, having successfully defended their European crown the following season.
While familiarity paved the way for Clough’s Forest in the European Cup, the current Champions League is defined by an overabundance of familiarity. This season alone, we’ve witnessed Barcelona versus PSG and Bayern Munich versus Arsenal for the fourth time in five seasons. Such repeated matchups can breed contempt, or at least, for neutral fans, sheer boredom.
Image alt text: Animated GIF showcasing the European Cup trophy, symbolising the historical prestige of the competition.
This brings us to the core debate. There are timeless, unanswerable football questions that fuel endless discussions among fans: Was Manchester United’s treble-winning team superior to the Busby Babes? How would Lionel Messi fare in the 1970s? These hypotheticals are part of football’s enduring charm.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve embraced my traditionalist football leanings. Football history was once defined by eras of great teams and dominant players. Now, I fear football, particularly in England, is increasingly defined by the pre and post-Premier League, and pre and post-Champions League eras. Many young sports enthusiasts lack a genuine understanding of the historical significance of the old First Division or the European Cup.
This leads to the crucial question: Is the Champions League truly better than the European Cup?
For me, the essence lies in the European Cup’s exclusivity – a competition reserved for league champions. It was the ultimate reward for conquering a domestic league campaign. Winning a league title and earning a European Cup spot held almost equal prestige, extending beyond mere financial incentives for players and clubs.
The straight knockout format instilled anticipation and inherent risk in every tie. But to win a cup, you must be prepared to overcome every opponent. This format fostered the potential for captivating “cup upsets” that neutrals adore.
The two-legged structure of each round, excluding the final, ensured that first-leg results carried significant weight into the return leg. Imagine if every round could replicate the intensity witnessed in this year’s extraordinary round of 16?
In the 1992-93 season, the European Cup rebranded as the Champions League, introducing group stages. This shift diluted the knockout drama and reduced the likelihood of unexpected comebacks like Barcelona’s against PSG.
In 1997, UEFA further altered the landscape, arguably diminishing the competition’s value by allowing league runners-up to participate. By 1999, this expansion grew to permit some nations to enter up to four teams. The 2005-06 season even saw an unprecedented five English clubs in the competition.
How can a tournament featuring 25 percent of the Premier League be considered the Coupe des Clubs Champions Européens (European Champion Clubs’ Cup)? Why should champions from smaller footballing nations endure qualifying rounds? Winning a league title is a triumph, regardless of the league’s stature.
Why should Welsh Premier League champions The New Saints face a first-round qualifying match on June 28th, while Tottenham, finishing third in the Premier League, directly enters the group stages, commencing their campaign on September 14th?
Image alt text: Ajax Amsterdam’s Johan Cruyff in European action, representing a bygone era of European club football dominance.
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In this season’s Champions League, only three domestic league champions – Barcelona, Juventus, and Leicester City – topped their respective groups. Teams that weren’t champions in their previous season led the other five groups. While acknowledging the argument of seizing opportunities, the current format undeniably provides an added advantage to league winners in progressing through the group stage.
I recognize the influence of money and media contracts on the Champions League’s structure and team seeding. The relentless demand for televised football is a major driving force, but should this demand overshadow the competition’s core ethos?
Don’t teams like TNS deserve the chance to be drawn against footballing giants like Barcelona or Juventus? Surely, the anticipation of that first-round draw would be a reward in itself for their prior league campaign. Imagine the excitement for supporters of smaller teams in Wales, dreaming of potential matchups as the draw unfolds.
The relentless pursuit of a top-four finish has, in some eyes, devalued domestic cup competitions like the FA Cup. Arsenal’s consistent Champions League qualification, spanning 11 consecutive seasons since last winning the league, raises questions. Do Arsenal fans truly equate top-four finishes with success? Would Tottenham players prioritize FA Cup or League Cup winner’s medals over Champions League appearances?
These are frequently debated questions, but if the Champions League reverted to the European Cup format, these questions would become irrelevant.
Returning to Leicester City, their status as the sole English team remaining in the Champions League feels fitting. They earned their place through a grueling 38-game league season and deserve to savor the rewards. May their European journey continue.
If their campaign ends, the traditionalist in me hopes it’s against another reigning league champion, not a third-place finisher like Atletico Madrid. Should they go on to win it, they could, for one season at least, justifiably claim to be the best club in Europe.
Perhaps the Champions League only truly ignites passion and excitement around February because, in essence, it reverts back to the high-stakes, knockout drama reminiscent of the European Cup.
By Stuart Horsfield @loxleymisty44
