The roar of the crowd, the clash of titans, the drama that unfolds on the hallowed turf – football, or soccer as it’s known to some, is indeed the greatest sport on earth. As a neutral observer, I revel in the sheer spectacle of the game, unburdened by partisan loyalties. This detached perspective allows for an appreciation of football in its purest form, though it admittedly lacks the visceral highs and lows experienced by devoted fans. The epic comeback of Barcelona against Paris Saint-Germain, a match etched in footballing folklore, serves as a poignant reminder of the emotional rollercoaster that fandom entails – a feeling I can only observe, not truly grasp.
Reflecting on the exhilarating Monaco-Manchester City encounter in the Champions League Round of 16, it became clear that this entire stage of the competition had been a breathtaking showcase of footballing prowess. Pundits and journalists were quick to laud the incredible matches witnessed, particularly that unforgettable moment when Sergi Roberto’s last-gasp goal sealed a comeback for the ages.
This season’s Round of 16 was a goal fest, with a staggering 62 goals scored in 16 matches, averaging an impressive 3.8 goals per game. For neutrals like myself, it was pure entertainment. For supporters of the eight triumphant teams, it was the culmination of a thrilling 29-day journey from sixteen to eight contenders.
The quarter-final draw promised further excitement, but for many, the Leicester City story stood out. Their presence wasn’t just about being the sole English representative; it was a fairytale unfolding, a campaign destined to become legend for Leicester fans, a deserved reward for their improbable Premier League triumph the previous season.
Amidst this Champions League fervor, my thoughts drifted back to a Real Madrid-Napoli clash from 1987. I was a 14-year-old, deeply immersed in football obsession. The game featured my idol, Diego Maradona, facing a Real Madrid side brimming with talent, including the exceptional Emilio Butragueño.
But this wasn’t a Champions League game; it was something even more prestigious – a European Cup tie. Crucially, it was a first-round encounter, not a strategically crafted last-16 fixture.
Maradona had been instrumental in Napoli’s historic first Serie A title win, earning them entry into Europe’s premier club competition. Back then, entry was exclusive to league winners, unless the previous season’s European Cup victor was invited back to defend their crown.
The first leg in Madrid was played behind closed doors, a consequence of crowd disturbances in the previous season’s semi-final against Bayern Munich. Real Madrid secured a 2-0 victory in the eerie silence, 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 journey after a single round.
Diego Maradona in action for Napoli during a European Cup match.
This particular fixture, it’s argued, indirectly sparked the evolution towards the Champions League, or at least a precursor to it. Silvio Berlusconi, AC Milan’s owner, watched in dismay as these two footballing giants clashed so early in the competition. The prospect of a major footballing power being eliminated so prematurely troubled the Italian magnate. Fearing a similar fate for his beloved Rossoneri, he proposed a European Superleague, guaranteeing consistent matchups between Europe’s elite clubs.
While the Superleague didn’t materialize then, the concern about top clubs exiting early resonated. UEFA recognized the need for a competition structure that ensured the prolonged participation of major clubs. This led to the gradual transformation of the European Cup into the ever-evolving Champions League we know today.
In the European Cup era, fate played a significant role in determining a team’s path. The draw itself was a spectacle, eagerly anticipated weeks in advance. For many fans, it was a chance to rally behind their nation’s club, a sort of annual mini-European Championship.
The European Cup draws were more than just pairings; they were geographical explorations in a pre-internet, pre-Iron Curtain world. Games east of Vienna felt like ventures into the unknown. Playground tales circulated about the perceived dangers of these Eastern European footballing outposts. The European Cup draw was a realm of fantastical football stories, almost mythical in their detachment from everyday reality.
Highlights, often on shows like Sportsnight, offered glimpses into these distant stadia, often encircled by running tracks. Familiar names from World Cups appeared in unfamiliar club kits, showcasing their brilliance in a different context. It took time to reconcile the Michel Platini in Juventus’ black and white stripes with the same player in the French national team’s blue, from the 1982 World Cup.
Intriguingly, a domestic clash within the European Cup was a rare badge of honor, signifying a nation’s recent dominance in the competition.
This occurred in the 1978-79 edition. Nottingham Forest, under the legendary Brian Clough, fresh off their league title win and European Cup debut, were drawn against the previous two-time European Cup champions, Liverpool, in the first round. It was the tie of the round, a battle of English champions, no atlas needed.
Forest triumphed 2-0 in the first leg and held Liverpool to a 0-0 draw at Anfield, embarking on a journey that saw them conquer Europe in their first attempt. Remarkably, Nottingham Forest, who defended their European title the following season, remain the only club to have won the European Cup more times than their domestic league.
Nottingham Forest celebrating their European Cup victory.
If familiarity paved the way for Clough’s Forest, the current Champions League is saturated with it. This season witnessed Barcelona versus PSG and Bayern Munich versus Arsenal for the fourth time in five seasons. Familiarity, as they say, can breed contempt, or at least, for neutral fans, boredom.
This brings us to the core of the debate: Is the Champions League truly better than the European Cup? It’s a question sparking endless discussions among football aficionados. Was Manchester United’s treble-winning team superior to the Busby Babes? How would Lionel Messi fare in the 1970s? These hypotheticals are unanswerable yet captivating.
As a traditionalist, I believe football’s narrative has shifted. It was once defined by eras of great teams and players. Now, particularly in England, football seems to be categorized as pre- or post-Premier League, and pre- or post-Champions League. Many young sports enthusiasts lack a genuine understanding of the old First Division or the European Cup’s heritage.
The European Cup’s allure lay in its exclusivity. It was a reward for conquering a domestic league, a culmination of a season-long campaign. Winning the league title and competing in the European Cup were intertwined honors, almost equally valued, transcending mere financial incentives.
The pure knockout format injected anticipation and jeopardy into every tie. To lift the trophy, teams had to overcome every opponent in their path, creating the potential for exhilarating cup upsets that neutrals adore.
The two-legged format, prevalent in every round except the final, ensured that first-leg results carried significant weight. Imagine if every round possessed the intensity of this year’s extraordinary Round of 16?
In 1992-93, the European Cup morphed into the Champions League, introducing group stages. This diluted the knockout drama and reduced the likelihood of those captivating comeback scenarios, like Barcelona vs. PSG.
Then, in 1997, UEFA further altered the landscape, allowing league runners-up into the tournament proper. In 1999, this expansion continued, permitting some nations to field up to four teams. By 2005-06, an astonishing five English clubs participated.
How can a competition featuring 25% of a single nation’s top-flight clubs truly be considered the Coupe des Clubs Champions Européens? Why should champions from smaller footballing nations endure qualifying rounds while teams finishing third in major leagues gain direct entry? Winning a league title is a triumph, regardless of the league’s stature.
Ajax team of the 1970s, European Cup Winners.
Why should Welsh Premier League champions The New Saints (TNS) commence their European journey in a first-round qualifier on June 28th, while Tottenham, finishing third in the Premier League, bypass qualifiers and enter the group stage on September 14th?
In this season’s Champions League, only three group winners – Barcelona, Juventus, and Leicester City – were also domestic league champions. While acknowledging that the current format offers opportunities to all, regardless of league winner status, it undeniably dilutes the prestige of being a champion.
Money and media contracts heavily influence the Champions League’s structure. The relentless demand for televised football is a major driver, but should it overshadow the competition’s core ethos?
Don’t TNS, and teams like them, deserve the chance to face Barcelona or Juventus in the main draw? Wouldn’t the anticipation of that first-round draw be a fitting reward for their league triumph? Imagine fans of smaller clubs, dreaming of the impossible as the draw unfolds.
The relentless pursuit of a top-four finish has arguably diminished the FA Cup’s allure. Arsenal’s consistent Champions League qualification, eleven seasons since last winning the league, raises questions. Do Arsenal fans truly celebrate a top-four finish as success? Would Tottenham players trade Champions League appearances for FA Cup or League Cup winner’s medals?
These questions persist, but if the Champions League reverted to the European Cup’s format, they would become irrelevant.
Leicester City’s Champions League journey feels fitting. They earned their place through a grueling 38-game league campaign and are now reaping the rewards. May their adventure continue.
If they are to be eliminated, the traditionalist in me hopes it’s against another reigning league champion, not a third-placed team like Atletico Madrid. And if they were to win it all, they could, for a season, rightfully claim to be the best club in Europe.
Perhaps the Champions League only truly captivates when it essentially reverts to the spirit of the European Cup, in the knockout stages come February.
By Stuart Horsfield @loxleymisty44
