James Lawton: American example for national game

The injection of vast amounts of Russian cash into Stamford Bridge has already sounded a thousand alarms, but forgive me if I don't throw up my arms in horror. To do that you need to feel a degree of shock, and who, having been half-observant of the trends of English football these last few years, can be vaguely surprised at the Chelsea development?

The club's descent into financial chaos was long and relentless and however he cares to dress it up, the chairman Ken Bates was open not so much to investment as rescue, from wherever it came.

But who will rescue what is left of what we fondly choose to call our national game? Who will begin to put in place the regulations that have been commonplace for decades in the brilliantly organised North American professional sports scene?

The other night I spent a few hours with an American colleague who has been, along with many of his compatriots, fascinated by the greening of David Beckham. He was, predictably, deeply shocked when we discussed other aspects of the English football business. He couldn't understand how the George Graham bungs affair could have happened in a properly regulated sport.

He couldn't believe that celebrated managers were allowed to hold shares in the company of a leading agent. He explained that every transfer deal in American sport had to be processed through a central clearing office staffed by lawyers and accountants, that any monies passed to an agent could only come directly from his own client. The idea that agents would set up and negotiate their own deals, rather than merely represent the interests of one party in any transaction, filled him with disbelief and wonderment.

He wondered about the sanity of English football. He wondered if the game that so fascinates the nation didn't really deserve to go to hell. And this was before Chelsea became the plaything of a Russian oil billionaire.