Mud in the press room | Soccer

It is not clear when exactly it started, but press conferences, mixed zones and any space of professional promiscuity between sports journalists and coaches are beginning to smell too much like mud. The thing about Xavi these days, publicly pointing out Ramon Besa for an article he wrote in which he did not even refer to him, gives the impression that it is just the evolution of a phenomenon that found its peak when José Mourinho sat in the Real Madrid bench. He delved into targeting editors, seeking out his clique, confronting journalists. The Portuguese went so far as to lock a colleague in a room and threaten him. “Me and my people are everything and you are a shitty journalist,” he snapped at Antón Meana. Although some didn’t say anything then.

The situation is not exclusively Spanish. Massimo Allegri, Juventus coach, had a similar scuffle this weekend with journalist Gianfranco Teotino, during a sports program on the Sky network. “Ask a smarter question,” the technician responded when he didn’t like what he heard. “The coach is me. Don’t judge. You just ask,” he insisted in a defiant tone. Fabio Capello, they say, once got into a fight with Alberto Cerruti because he didn’t like something he had published. And the other day, the president of Naples pulled Politano out of his ear in the middle of an interview at the end of the game against Barça because the journalist who did it was not the one he had asked for: “I asked Gianluca di Marzio. Not this one, he’s from Lazio,” Aurelio de Laurentiis shouted while the camera continued recording and he shoved the operator.

Allegri, like everyone, likes live connections with former teammates, friends, former players. The jokes and some laughter after the game. He is not encouraged, however, to be reminded that his team is 17 points behind the leader and asked what the causes are. And it’s curious, because athletes talk more and more, but they submit less to uncomfortable questions or critical judgments. We see it in the post-match connections, in the mixed zones, in the unnecessary statements in the middle of the matches, when the footballers are at 170 beats and can only get into trouble or not say anything relevant. He speaks by contract. It’s all image rights. And the clubs prefer the institutional media, those that they pay, those that also serve to pressure the referees. They are more comfortable with headrests and radios named after legendary players. Or in the camaraderie with some streamers.

The cases of Italy and Spain are similar. Precariousness in the job increases. But the number of radio stations, sports programs on television and media dedicated to this sport is increasing. In Rome, for example, there are ten stations that talk 24 hours a day exclusively about the team coached by Daniele de Rossi. The noise, comparable only to that of politics, is enormous. And it may become unhinged.

Pep Guardiola always says that he lives more peacefully in England, that the pressure is a thousand times less. That fray is less aggressive. And this is a more competitive league, with more money at stake and a more emotionally inflamed fan base. In the United Kingdom there is practically no sports press and that role is occupied by tabloids. And the tabloids, as you know, get the right deal. In the end, we can look for a thousand more arguments about what happened last week. And about what will continue to happen. But when criticism surprises you, it is because you are not used to it. And that doesn’t say much about anyone.