The sight of the boys standing solemnly, dutifully in line at Cheltenham Town had pricked the conscience. They had a replica shirt on their back, boots in a bag and hope in their heart. But most importantly, money in their pocket. Just like the victims of football trafficking they were proof that all dreams have a price. There was a difference, though, between them – the clique of French kids, the surly boys from Crystal Palace – and those who had been unceremoniously dumped in foreign cities. Their dream was cheap. At just £60 it was paltry compared to the thousands that some had been persuaded to part with.
Cheltenham had been happy to take it. It was a transaction between two consenting parties. Both wanted the same outcome. Cheltenham hoped to find a potential professional, each of the boys wished, desperately, they were it. But that didn’t make it edifying. Quite the opposite. From a boy stuffing notes of cash into the hands of the kingmakers to the palpable sense of trepidation in the air, it looked like exploitation, it felt like exploitation.
The will to exploit young people’s aspirations is at the core of this story. It is the motivation for agents to ship kids from one continent to another so they can take a slice of their contract if they impress on trial. Likewise those who extort money on the false promise of a trial. One would expect to find it in South America or West Africa, where stories abound that ‘anything goes’, but the sleepy Costwolds at one of English football’s bottom feeders?
Disturbed by Cheltenham’s scheme, I spoke with managers, directors, scouts and youth coaches in the lower leagues to check whether it was commonplace for clubs to charge for trials. Thanks to Jay-Jay I knew he had paid to try out at Cambridge, Wimbledon and Brentford, so there was a possibility that it was normal practice for the football industry. To a man they said it was not. Chris Wilder, the manager of Northampton Town, who were in the same league as Cheltenham, said he had ‘never heard of that before’. Simon Lenagan, the director at Oxford, said it was ‘wrong, totally wrong’. The look of disgust and disbelief on the face of the scout and coach, who wanted to remain anonymous, when asked for their opinion was memorable.
Although Cheltenham had done nothing illegal, there was a moral and ethical debate to be had over a club taking money from players. As stated, both club and player willingly entered into the deal, but there was an imbalance. The club had all the power and none of the risk in the same way that agents held sway over youngsters they would be prepared to traffic. The rationale in staging trials for money and moving players was exactly the same.
A club giving a chance to a young player exposed itself to no liabilities whatsoever. In fact, with the nominal fee they had the opportunity to make a profit. There was also the chance, no matter how slight, that they could discover a talent. Young footballers represented cheap labour but the potential upside could be huge. Cheltenham could find they had a player who could blossom into one good enough to play two or three leagues higher, thus earning themselves a chunk of money from a transfer fee. It was a numbers game, the same one Hamid and Imari played.
For the player the risk was not on the same spectrum. They could suffer an injury or loss of confidence. Do not forget the £60 gamble, either. That might not be much to an adult but to an under-18, who would also need to find travel expenses, it was a significant amount of money.
What suggested a lack of principle was that the club must have been acutely aware of the desire of players without a professional club to succeed. That they would do almost anything to have a career in football. So why not give them a chance and charge them for it? Was that their thinking?
Firstly, there were the huge odds of any of those boys getting a contract. Cheltenham knew exactly how to push the buttons of the young players, offering what they craved. The price included, they boasted, ‘the opportunity to win a professional contract’. Secondly, what other industry charged for what was, essentially, a job interview? Think of your dream job. Would you pay £60, with 30 other applicants, to be assessed on your suitability? Maybe you would, but it is unlikely you would think it fair or decent. Cheltenham also promised ‘written individual feedback for each player after the game’. Jay-Jay did not receive that feedback. Nor did a Swiss player, Rejuan, who told me so by email. ‘No, they didn’t send me anything. I think this trial was just about making money.’
With each of the 30 boys paying a minimum of £60, Cheltenham would have received £1,800 that day. In the upper echelons of English football, that wouldn’t buy you a player for even half a day. But for a club on the bottom rung of the professional game, one that attracts about a couple of thousand supporters every other week, it was a big deal. It was not a one-off either. Cheltenham had held up to three trials a year previously for 16- to 23-year-olds, and the uptake had been greater. James Murphy, who ran the trial when Jay-Jay attended, had told me that they had hosted 60 earlier in the year. ‘It’s quite low,’ he said. ‘Normally it’s 80–120.’ If Cheltenham were staging three trials a year and they had an average attendance of 80, it meant they were making almost £15,000 a year from aspiring young footballers.
There was a more disturbing aspect to Cheltenham’s policy, however. Murphy had told me on the phone, rather proudly, that some boys ‘come from Africa. We’ve had some from Australia, New Zealand and Canada.’ If that was true then not only had Cheltenham engaged in something ethically dubious, they had offered paid trials under false pretences because they would not have been able to sign anybody from outside the European Union, even if they did impress enough having handed over their money.
The players from Africa, Australia, New Zealand and Canada that Murphy spoke about could not have signed a professional contract. If they were under the age of 18, Fifa’s Article 19 prevented clubs signing players of that age from another continent. If they were over 18, they would have had to have played 75 per cent of their country’s international fixtures over the last two years to qualify for a work permit. And how likely was it that a player who met that criterion would have been reduced to paying for a trial at a nondescript club?
To confirm that Cheltenham would take money from a non-EU foreign underage player they could not employ, I sent an email from a fictitious player called Penfold Black. He was 17. ‘I am a great striker. I am coming from Nigeria for the trial to achieve my dream.’ Cheltenham were happy to have him. They invited him to their next trial, attaching the fitness declaration form and player profile. Would the club help him pay the accommodation fee as he was coming from another continent? No. Would they accept cash? Yes. ‘Our bank account details are as follows if you want to make a bank transfer. You can bring cash on the day, but no cash, no play!!’
Was it harsh to pick on little old Cheltenham, whose supporters might argue that in their own small-minded, provincial way, they were just trying to make ends meet? After all they were one of the poorest clubs in the country, something which their chairman, Paul Baker, also a Liberal Democrat borough concillor by the way, reminded supporters about.
So what about Brentford? In the 2014–15 season they were a club on the brink of promotion to the Premier League, the land of milk and honey. In 2013 they had a turnover of nearly £4 million. Comparatively they were a giant to Cheltenham Town in terms of finances, resources and support. What was their excuse for charging kids £40 for a trial in May 2015? Why did they feel they had to lure kids on their website with the promise that: ‘a professional contract at Brentford FC will be up for grabs’? Their last trial, in November 2014, had 200 attendees. The next one, the following year in May, had space for 400. If all of those were filled, that was £24,000.
Brentford were also guilty of being prepared to take money from an under-18 they had no possible hope of giving that ‘professional contract’ to. Our fictitious friend, Som Kalou, who had introduced us to Hamid, emailed the club at the start of 2015. He said he was 17, was from Nigeria and wanted to attend the paid trial. A club aware of Fifa’s Article 19 and work-permit rules should not have countenanced taking money from someone like Som, let alone encouraged him to travel to a different continent.
Their initial reply stated: ‘All information regarding the trials can be found on our application form on our website. Please follow the instructions carefully on how to apply.’ Som emailed again, reiterating that he was coming from Nigeria and it would be ‘hard’ for him to post the application form that needed to be downloaded. He was told: ‘We must receive the £40 payment along with the application form.’ Som replied, asking: ‘So if I send the money I can come for trial?’ ‘Correct,’ was the response.
When I asked Brentford for an explanation, they wrote back: ‘We get applications from all over the world to attend our trials and do not bar anyone who wants to attend. There has been a rise in dual-passport holders in recent years and the club would not be in a position to know whether an individual would qualify to work or play football in the UK until an application was made to do so. We also have education provision available for those of the right age.’ They also included a blurb for a two-day trial in May 2015 for 16- to 21-year-olds. It boasted how they gave players ‘from all over the world an opportunity’. The fee was £40. Cheltenham were also contacted but they failed to answer my questions.
So Cheltenham and Brentford were both culpable of attempting to charge players for the chance to earn a professional contract when the reality of the sport’s rules and regulations meant they could offer no such thing. It begged the question, how many more clubs were doing the same? How many more between Brentford at the top of the Football League and Cheltenham at the foot would encourage a 17-year-old from Nigeria? I conducted a survey of every Football league club. Som Kalou emailed each of them (70 out of the 72 in total as Cheltenham and Brentford had already been asked), asking for an opportunity to trial.
Dear sir
Please can I come for trials? I am 17 and a very good striker from Nigeria.
I have my CV below.
I am fit and hungry to score goals.
Please tell me trial details and how much I have to pay for the trial. I can send cheque or cash.
Thank you
Som
Fourteen clubs responded and only one offer of a trial was forthcoming. That was from Watford, another Championship club. They wrote: ‘The trials are free, just make sure you attend for the best chance of securing a place.’ None of the clubs told Som that he was wasting his time, failing to quote the rules about transfers of minors or work-permit regulations. Stevenage, in League Two, were closest to imparting the correct advice. Som was not suitable because he ‘lived too far away’. There was encouragement from some clubs. Oldham Athletic told him ‘not to give up’ and suggested two non-league clubs to contact. Plymouth Argyle were similarly positive and told him to register with a website for young players searching for clubs. Derby County, MK Dons and Blackburn were hardly discouraging in their replies. The response of each of the 14 clubs is recorded here:
Birmingham City: unfortunately we do not have any place for a boy of your age.
Blackburn Rovers: all I can do is forward your email on to somebody who works with that age group. It is down to them if they contact you.
Bury: if you were based in England you could have trials but we don’t have the funds to get you over for trial.
Charlton Athletic: in an effort to avoid your disappointment, Charlton Athletic Football Club will not invite a player in for a trial unless one of our scouts has seen him play and thinks he is of the required standard.
Derby County: we will keep your details on file and contact you should there be any interest.
MK Dons: please follow the trial procedure on our website.
Oldham Athletic: sorry, you are too old for this club. Do not give up though. [Try] a semi pro club like Curzon Ashton or Droylsden.
Port Vale: thank you for the request – we are not looking to add to the youth squad as we have a full team.
Plymouth Argyle: we are not holding any trials at this moment in time. Unfortunately, we are unable to offer you a suitable position within our set-up. In the meantime we do hope that you have success in finding yourself a club. To assist your search for a club, may we suggest that you visit ‘All About Ballerz’ at www.allaboutballerz.com. This is a platform for footballers at all levels to showcase their talents – a place where you can upload video clips of yourself and be seen by a wider audience. A number of clubs, managers and scouts discover fresh new talent and experienced players by using this growing popular platform.
Rotherham United: many thanks for the email, I cannot offer you a trial.
Stevenage: we can’t accommodate you as you live too far away from our club.
Swindon Town: unfortunately we are not running any trials, as we have offered a scholarship to a number of players that have come through our academy, which will take us up to our full quota for the 2014–2015 season.
Watford: the trials are free, just make sure you attend for the best chance of securing a place.
Outside of the professional game, charging kids for trials has become an industry. Thanks to the glamour, glitz and gold of the Premier League footballer’s lifestyle, often the ambition of a young boy to make it as a star is today matched by his parents. To cater for this hankering, soccer courses and academies have sprung up all over the country, offering trials with the promise that scouts from professional clubs will attend.
One company heavily involved is FootballCV. As their website states: ‘There are hundreds of thousands of youngsters who have the same dream but only a few will be able to boast in years to come, “I played the game for a living.” And what a living that can be for the top professionals.’
FootballCV were of interest because they ran trials in association with the Football League and the Professional Footballers’ Association. The founder and director is David Mallinger; its managing director, Graham Starmer. Mallinger was a director at Corby Town FC of the Southern League Premier Division and Starmer was the vice-chairman of the club. Mallinger was also listed as a director at Kettering Town FC.
FootballCV organise trials for children as young as six, charging £15. The top price for a trial listed on their website was, at this point, £85. There was also the option of attending camps – for players aged 12 to 25 – which ran over four days, at a cost of £430, and a residential academy course from £609 per week. Included in the cost was the chance to impress scouts from professional clubs. There was even a two-year course at just under £25,000 per year at a dedicated academy at Steel Park, Corby. Students would receive training from professional coaches, play in competitive matches against Premier League and Football league clubs and be watched by up to 50 scouts. Education formed a large part of the programme, with A levels and B-Tech courses available. Alongside each of these details were reminders of the ‘lucrative living to be made’. ‘Beckham . . . Rooney . . . Gareth Bale . . . so who will be next? FootballCV may have the answer and give you the opportunity to be the next star of the future.’
Would that opportunity be available to international players like Som? Yes. In a reply to his email asking to attend a trial it was recommended he ‘play football in the UK for as long as your budget will allow to give yourself the best chance of being discovered’.
Attached was a ‘how to’ guide for players without a European passport to attend a FootballCV trial. It said that FootballCV would provide an invitation letter ‘which can be used to apply for temporary visas once a trial has been booked and successfully paid for’. There was a £20 administration fee for an invitation letter and, if the player wanted an original copy, there was a £70 charge for a courier. There was no mention of Fifa’s Article 19 rule or work-permit stipulations in the document. There was no mention that even if one of the scouts that Som had paid to impress wanted to sign him, they could not.
Graham Starmer was asked why Som was encouraged. ‘We are very stringent with how we operate re. visas and comply with all Home Office rules.’ He also said that players from outside the EU can sign and play for clubs ‘below Step 5’ in England. He is correct. That is six levels below the bottom division of the Football League, hardly the stomping grounds of Messrs Beckham or Bale. Som was not told this. The ‘how to’ guide that FootballCV sent to him also failed to mention that he would have to make do with a club no higher than a division like the Spartan South Midlands League.
So it was apparent that, at best, there was little regard in the English game for the rules when signing minors and work-permit regulations. At worst it was evidence that football was an industry obsessed with money and how clubs would do anything to gain an edge over rivals, find the next star or, more prosaically, win three points on Saturday. But there was nothing revelatory about the latter. It was another important piece of the jigsaw, however, as it provided a reason as to how and why it was possible for players to be moved from one country to the other without a realistic chance of playing. Already I had learnt that there were agents who had displayed an alarming disregard for football’s laws which had been drawn up to prevent mass migration for nothing. Charlie Baffour, the London-based agent, thought that a club could sign an under-18 from Africa and stick him in their academy. ‘No problem,’ he said. Hamid had actively scouted players from Africa and encouraged them to go to Larnaca, Cyprus. It resulted in scores of them kicking their heels, without a club and with little chance of finding one precisely because they did not meet the criteria. It was why so many turned up that day for a ‘trial’ match under the shrewd eyes of John in that sleepy ex-pat town.
When agents don’t know the rules or wilfully disregard them and the professional clubs do the same, then you have the recipe for football trafficking and exploitation. Although only three clubs – Cheltenham, Brentford and Watford – had offered a trial to Som, the consequences of such erroneous decisions could be far reaching. If Som had been real and he wanted to come to England from Nigeria he would need an invitation from a club, or a company like FootballCV, so he could get a visa. Check. Entry into a country is one of the biggest barriers to football migration and here it was being leapt with ease.
Let’s extrapolate Som’s ‘story’. He is desperate for a chance to prove himself in Europe. He has an agent who says he can get him a trial. Som is delighted. The agent spends a couple of hours online searching for clubs in England who offer open trials. He emails them. They say ‘yes, he can come’, ignoring his age and where he resides. He also approaches FootballCV. Crucially, he has invitations from three sources. A visa should not be a problem. The agent goes back to Som with the good news. ‘I have three trials for you, one at Brentford, one at Cheltenham and another at a place called FootballCV in front of many, many scouts.’ Som cannot believe it. Finally, he will get his chance. The agent names his price for his work. It would probably be in the thousands. Som travels to the UK, attends the trials. No club signs him. The agent abandons him.