Luton's narrow escape from Tellytubbyland Independent, The (London), Oct 30, 2004 by Chris Maume
BUSINESSMEN ARE stupid. That's undeniable. Look at the dotcom debacle. Look at the endless procession of firms which have a taste of success, overexpand, then collapse under the weight of their own blind greed. Not so stupid that they lose all their own money, of course. But stupid enough to lose everyone else's.
Nowhere did their greed and hubris hit the fan, as it were, more messily than in the football explosion of the 1990s. The Sky wedge (wedge as in cash, wedge as in widening the wealth gap) convinced the rich and rash that what was going on at Old Trafford could be replicated at the likes of York, Bradford and Bury, taken to the eve of destruction by entrepreneur low-lifes.
Luton Town were taken over 18 months ago by a shadowy Asian consortium linked somehow - we were never quite sure - to a property developer called John Gurney. Trouble at the Top (BBC2, Thursday) recounted the saga.
Gurney established his Walter Mitty credentials at the outset, saying: "Nobody would get involved with a football club unless it's a good business deal." Except someone whose stupidity was matched only by their cupidity.
He showed the film crew round a prime site near the motorway and the airport. "We're going to dig out the land and make an underground car park," he said. "Obviously all these electricity pylons will have to be moved first. Then the land will be placed back on top, and the stadium and the other developments, undecided as yet, which could be hotels, convention centres, retail shopping, can go on top." He made it sound like Tellytubbyland. His first move was to sack the manager, Joe Kinnear, leading to a season ticket boycott, which was hitting the club, dependent on sales for summer cash flow, right where it hurt. His big idea was to hold a poll to vote on his replacement - Manager Idol, he called it. Kinnear was in the frame, plus Steve Cotterill and Mike Newell. Kinnear, on holiday in Spain, was winning the poll, but Gurney said to camera: "We will appoint Mike Newell regardless of the telephone poll. We have failed to agree terms with Joe Kinnear, Steve Cotterill is not here, and Mike is." The last-minute shenanigans made Kenilworth look like Florida four years ago. And so it was settled. Newell it was.
Gurney then discovered a crippling debenture loan to a company called Hatters Holdings which he had somehow failed to notice. "It's a howler of a mistake," he said. As I said, stupid. He held a staff meeting about the wages, blaming the consortium. "It's all shit," one of them told him. "I'm sorry. No one trusts you."
Gurney knew the score. "I've moved myself into a super-hate category," he said to camera.
If Gurney was the villain - he looked like Kerry Packer and moved like a mob heavy - the heroine was the club secretary, 20-year veteran Cherry Newbery, in tears for the staff as payday came and went without a sniff of a wage packet. As Gurney led out a couple of the consortium after a tour round the club shop, she whispered to camera: "They're going to destroy us. Without a shadow of a doubt."
Fortunately, she was wrong. If she was the heroine, the heroes were the members of the fans' group, Trust in Luton, who bought shares in Hatters Holdings and enforced the debt owed them by the club, which went into administration instead. Gurney was history, and showed his true colours at the end.
"The people in the Trust have made a very big mistake," he warned. "I never walk away from a fight. And if they expect me to walk away from Luton with nothing, I'll make sure there's nothing to walk away from."
Those words should be emblazoned on the office wall of every supporters' trust in the land. |