Jorge Valdano is the George Soros of world football-a man who simultaneously epitomises and decries the forces of globalisation. In his heyday as a player, Valdano was Diego Maradona's strike partner in the Argentine team that carried off the 1986 World Cup-he scored a goal in the final. Now, as the sporting director of Real Madrid, Valdano has the largest cheque book in soccer. In successive summers, Real has broken the world transfer record: first snatching Luis Figo from Barcelona for $56m; then snapping up Zinedine Zidane for $65m. When I spoke to him before the World Cup, Valdano was planning how Real Madrid could break the record again this summer. Even before the tournament began, he had a clear idea of what the team needed. "We already know," he said, "that there is no player in the world at the moment at the level of a Maradona. There are maybe ten Zidanes. We'll want to buy one of those, preferably somebody young."
Yet although Valdano has one of the most enviable jobs in football, he seems melancholic about the way big money is reshaping football. He is a romantic; a published poet with left-wing views. (He is also a heart-throb-my interpreter, who claimed to have no interest in football, perked up when she discovered we were going to see Valdano, and remarked afterwards on what beautiful Spanish he spoke.) Much as the critics of globalisation worry that the spread of McDonalds and Coca-Cola are creating a dull, homogenised global culture, so Valdano worries that television and big money are in danger of erasing the different national playing styles that make the World Cup such an intriguing event. "I was from the last generation in Argentina that learned to play football by watching players in their local town or village," he says. "Nowadays kids learn from television and all the big games are beamed in from Europe."
What is more, the big European clubs now buy up the best Latin American stars when they are barely out of their teens-most of the Argentinian team that won the world under-21 championship last year are already playing abroad. As a result, the European and Latin styles of play are merging. "Twenty years ago," says Valdano, "Latin football was about skill and technique and European football was about fighting spirit and athleticism. Now the trends are coming together." It is clear that, although he is one of the foremost agents of this process, he is also worried by its effect. "Football in Argentina is in a mess," he said (presciently as it turned out), "the clubs are bankrupt and the stadiums empty."
Like a millionaire connoisseur of art, however, Valdano comforts himself by contemplating the majesty of the collection of players he is bringing together. When I met him, Real had just lost away to Bayern Munich in the Champions League and seemed in danger of going out of the tournament. Valdano was defiant. "If we go out of the Champions League next week (they didn't), people will say that proves that German football is better than Spanish football. But that's not true. People still prefer the way Real Madrid play the game. Think of the 1982 World Cup. The lasting memory people have is of the beautiful football played by Brazil. All the rest," he concluded grandly, "that's just statistics."
It is a cheeringly romantic creed. But it also has a commercial rationale. Talk to the marketing men at clubs like Real Madrid, Barcelona and Manchester United and you will discover that they are preparing for an age in which a few top European clubs become "global brands." Winning cups and tournaments attracts a following. But it may be even more important to establish a reputation for style and flair. Valdano is aware of this. "As a Real Madrid man, I shouldn't say this," he remarks, "but that 'dream team' that Cruyff built at Barcelona created a global following for them." Year by year, acquisition by acquisition, Valdano is busy building his own dream team at Real Madrid.
For football's brand-builders having glamorous players in the team is crucial. Pundits wondered whether it made sense for Real to spend so heavily on individuals like Zidane and Figo, when they could have got three rising stars for the same money. But the marketing men are in no doubt. Miguel Angel Sanchez, Real's marketing director, says that in the age of the internet and satellite television, Real should think of themselves as a content provider, like a Hollywood studio-"having Zidane in your team is like having Tom Cruise in your movie."
At Manchester United, they are sniffy about Zidane's value as a marketing tool. "Beckham has more hair and a more interesting wife," comments an executive. But Zidane's baldness has not stopped Real from building a marketing strategy around their star player by trying to build their fan-base in France and North Africa. Jorge Valdano may have his reservations about the globalisation of football, but he has no qualms about marketing his dream team. "Having Zidane in the team pleases the marketing men," he acknowledges, "but it also pleases me as sporting director." With good reason: this year, courtesy of a stunning volley by Zidane, Real won the Champions League for the third time in five years. Now that is a statistic.
