FSOM: Bundesliga 1-0 Premier League

Fifty Shades is back from his jolly holidays, which for him, normally entails a secluded beach, lots of sunshine and a pair of Speedos.

But this year, Fifty Shades decided to ditch the budgie smugglers in favour of Lederhosen, and went to Germany instead.

In between attempts to burst the stitching on his leather shorts by snarfing too much Schweinshaxe, Rollbraten, Leberkase with Katoffelsalat, followed by Dampflnudeln or Kaiserschmarren for pudding, all washed down with foaming tankards of Paulaner and Hofbrau, Fifty Shades was set to thinking about the differences between English and German football.

His thoughts could hardly be otherwise as just about every second of Fifty Shades’ waking day saw his senses invaded and overloaded by Bayern Munich.

You would probably expect in Bavaria that Bayern (which means ‘Bavaria’) maintain a fairly high profile, but the club and its players are all over southern Germany like a rash.

German football is currently flying higher than one of Nena’s Neun and Neunzig Luftbalons, as evidenced by the fact the band only had to rehearse one national anthem at May’s Champions League final.

There’s nothing to suggest that Germany’s domination of club and international football, won’t continue and at the risk of being strung up like a treasonous modern-day Lord Haw Haw, Fifty Shades would be glad to see it.

Not because he has changed sides and become an unpatriotic anti-fan, but simply as success for German football might provide English football with the kick up the jacksie it needs to run itself properly, although there is more chance of Usain Bolt turning out for Rochdale than that happening as long as Richard Scudamore continues to preside over the Premier League.

The way German football and its clubs are structured are all designed to provide stability, and with it a playing field relatively more level than the Premier League, which resembles one afflicted by moles the size of hippos.

German clubs are literally, just that. Clubs run by their members.

They have a 50%+one share rule, which ensures the club or association always has a controlling stake.

In Bayern’s case, that is a club with 187,000 members and 3,202 fan clubs.

The likes of Barca and Real Madrid may pooh-pooh that as small fry compared to their socios but the difference is that members of German clubs do have real power, not just a vote when it comes to picking the next president on the basis of him having the nicest tie or promising to sign Gareth Bale, Neymar, Lionel Messi and Rickie Lambert in the next transfer window.

The structure means no commercial interest or individual can gain control, so Bayern Munich could never be owned by a Russian oligarch, American media tycoon, Chinese electronics billionaire or Middle Eastern sheikh with oil revenues burning a hole in his pocket.

Some German clubs complained they are unable to compete with the sort of wages British clubs are able to shell out to sign the top talent.

That’s partly true, but based on the eminently sensible reason that German clubs have to live within their means, and only pay wages based on their income, and not what their sugar daddy decides he wants to offer up.

The Germans had their own version of a financial fair play rule long before Michel Platini came up with it.

At the start of each season, German clubs have to provide the Bundesliga with a full set of accounts, and a business projection plan, which shows how they intend to use their income over the following year.

If the Bundesliga aren’t happy and smell a rat, they can call the plan and the club in for questioning.

Likewise, if a club fails to stick drastically to its plan and ends up in debt at the end of the season, it will be asked to provide an explanation. Any club carrying debt over two successive seasons is automatically relegated.

It means German clubs simply can’t bet the farm and splash over the odds wages for short-term success. Any success has to be earned by being built up over a long period of stability.

Try telling that to Manchester City’s owners or Roman Abramovich.

So if German clubs cannot be owned by Sheikhs or oligarchs prepared to splash the cash, how do they raise the spondulicks to sign top stars and compete? German clubs do sign big stars. Bayern paid £31.5 for Borussia Dortmund midfielder Mario Gotze – and they had to pay it all up front, there’s no never-never instalment plan as there is with Premier League clubs.

As you would expect from the Germans, they think differently.

Manchester United’s total revenue for 2011 was £320m. Bayern’s was not far behind with £300m.

United earned 37% of that figure through commercial deals, compared with 55% for Bayern.

And guess what? Because German clubs raise more through commercial activities, they are able to keep ticket prices down.

Premier League clubs, of course, do the opposite and make up the shortfall in income by charging more for tickets.

Bayern president (and former player) Uli Hoeness is on record as saying; “Why should we treat fans as cows to be milked?”

Or as Premier League clubs prefer to put it; “Let’s try and make sure fans leave the stadium with their trousers round their ankles and their pockets completely empty.”

You can get into a Bayern Munich Bundesliga game for £15, and a Bratwurst and Brezel, and a beer will not have you rushing off to take out a second mortgage as you would do if you wanted to buy a Balti pie at an English ground.

German clubs tend to form close associations with companies, who are world leaders in their field.

For example, Adidas and Audi each hold a 9.1% shareholding in Bayern. The deal with Adidas – along with the naming rights – effectively paid for the construction of the Allianz Arena, while the deal with Audi has meant Bayern have paid off their loans for the stadium early.

An off-shoot of this is that it’s near impossible to buy a pair of decent Puma trainers in Munich (despite the companies being founded by the bickering Dassler brothers – Adidas by Adolf, and Puma by Rudolf after they fell out) while Audi (based in Ingolstadt and owned by the VW group) is cocking a snook at BMW who see Munich as their ‘hood.

The ownership structure creates completely different economic outlooks, and probably reflects those of the respective countries.

Germany’s is all about stability, while the Premier League creates a fear-ridden, boom-or-bust frenzy usually seen on David Attenbrough-presented wildlife programmes and involving shoals of sardines and clever Sea Lions.

Once into the top flight, the huge wedges of dough on offer means Premier League clubs simply cannot afford to be relegated.

The scary statistic is that Bundesliga clubs made a total profit of £47m last season while between them the Premier League clubs made a stonking collective £207m loss. This was despite the Premier League raking in an income of £2.4bn compared to the Bundesliga £1.78bn.

The only question that can form in anyone’s mind reading those figures is; ‘What the bloody hell did Premier League clubs do with that money?’

And the simple answer is; ‘They spent it on players.’

Wages take up 38% of Bundesliga clubs’ revenue, the Premier League figure is almost double that at 67% (and as high as 93% in one English club’s case). Those wages invariably go into bringing in a Spanish/French/Italian/Argentine/Brazilian/African player, who can come in and instantly do a job, at the expense of a home grown player.

You cannot blame clubs for doing it. The economic climate created by English football’s boom-bust mentality dictates they nearly always have to adopt an expedient, short-term view.

Again, you cannot help contrast it with German football.

Around 50% of first-team starters in the Bundesliga are German, compared to 35% English-born players in the Premier League.

Those Bayern faces you see glaring out at you from shops, advertising hoardings, and posters are Philipp Lamm, Thomas Muller, Toni Kroos, Basti Schweinsteiger, Holger Badstuber – all first team regulars who came up through Bayern’s youth system.

That, of course, helps the German national team and that is another basic difference between German and English football.

There is a collectiveness in German football that doesn’t exist here – mainly due to the Premier League.

In Germany, the national team comes first. Even Bayern’s managers know that, and you rarely see German players picked for midweek international duty pulling out on Tuesday with what looked like a career-threatening injury, only for the biggest miracle since Lazarus got up off his bed to cure the injury on Thursday and Friday so he is fit for Saturday.

The structure of the English top flight has created a self-centred climate of self-interest among clubs who act like toddlers who won’t share their toys, and whose managers see the England team as an irritable sore that won’t go away.

In Germany, they realise that a successful national team creates a trickle-down feelgood factor, that provides the domestic game with a boost, something we’ve not experienced since Euro 1996.

Richard Scudamore’s leaping to the defence of the Premier League in the face of this summer’s dismal showings in the European U21 championship and the various other age-group tournaments, was a little too hasty.

But then he was only doing his job, a job he does – in fairness – very well.

His success in managing to persuade the slow of thought that the Premier League is the best in the world is a bit like that of a second-hand car salesmen who flogs you a sleek Ferrari only for you to get home and find it’s got a Skoda engine under the bonnet.

And when Scudamore then tries to convince referees that it’s counter to the image and brand of the Premier League to send off star players – as he did earlier this week – then he begins to look a little silly.

If the Premier League’s chief executive wants to go the whole hog and look a complete tool, I’ve got a very nice pair of leather shorts, and a hat with a badger’s tail in the hatband that he can borrow.

Auf Wiedersehen, pet.

By John May

Follow @maisy68

This photograph was provided by Themeplus.