When ‘Available’ Does Not Mean Fresh: Haaland’s 337-Minute Window

A FootballGravity data illustration showing four match markers labelled 90, 90, 90 and 67 minutes along a declining load line.

Part two of Between Club and Country, a FootballGravity series examining what happens when the international calendar changes shape.

In Porto, the most revealing number was not on the scoreboard. It was 67.

That was the minute Erling Haaland left Norway’s 2–1 defeat by Portugal on 4 October. He had started all four of Norway’s matches in the new extended international window. Before the last one, coach Ståle Solbakken and Haaland had discussed a target of roughly an hour. Haaland then asked to come off, and Solbakken said he was “thoroughly spent”.

No injury was announced. That distinction matters. Public discussions of player load often wait for an absence, a diagnosis or a damaged muscle. Porto offered a different kind of observation: a player remained available, started the match and still reached a point at which his minutes had to be managed.

This is not evidence that the new calendar caused Haaland’s fatigue, and it is not a medical assessment. It is something narrower: an unusually clear, public load-management signal at the end of the first 16-day, four-match international period.

Four starts, 337 minutes, one continuous camp

DateMatchCityHaaland minutesFull days before next match
24 SepNorway 3–2 DenmarkOslo902
27 SepNorway 1–2 PortugalOslo903
1 OctWales 2–1 NorwayCardiff902
4 OctPortugal 2–1 NorwayPorto67—

The four matches were played across 11 calendar dates, with ten elapsed days from the first kick-off to the last. Haaland completed 337 of the possible 360 regulation minutes. He also scored three goals, twice against Denmark and once in the first Portugal match.

The recovery pattern was 72 hours, 96 hours and 72 hours between kick-offs. Counting only complete calendar dates between games, Norway had two, then three, then two full days. Those days were not necessarily rest days. The Norwegian federation’s published programme included recovery, training, media activity and travel from Oslo to Cardiff and then Porto.

Using the same city-centre method as the first article in this series, Haaland’s modelled route is Manchester → Oslo → Cardiff → Porto → Manchester: about 5,000 km. It involves one club-to-country cycle and no intercontinental crossing. The sum of absolute time-zone changes is only two hours.

That is precisely why this case is useful. The travel geography is relatively modest beside the long-haul routes in our ten-player model. The match exposure is not. A shorter route can still contain four starts and a long uninterrupted period away from the club environment.

The load did not begin with Norway–Denmark

The international window was one section of a longer sequence. Norway played six matches at the 2026 World Cup and reached the quarter-finals, where its tournament ended against England on 11 July. The new Premier League season began for Manchester City in late August. By the international break, Haaland had played 90 minutes in each of City’s first five league matches.

Norway’s run therefore did not start from a clean seasonal reset. Solbakken described some of his players as having received only six or seven days of holiday after the summer, without saying that this exact number applied to Haaland. The Norwegian players’ union NISO said Haaland had entered the English season without a normal preparation period after Norway’s World Cup.

This wider sequence prevents a simple conclusion. The four-match window may concentrate national-team exposure, but the observed fatigue cannot be assigned to those four games alone. World Cup minutes, club minutes, training, travel, sleep, individual physiology and mental demand all sit inside the same accumulated load.

Availability is a poor yes-or-no measure

An injury register asks whether a player sustained a reportable health problem or lost time. That is essential information, but it does not capture every stage between full freshness and absence.

Sports-medicine consensus work treats load more broadly, distinguishing the work performed from the individual’s response to it. Match minutes and travel are forms of external exposure. Fatigue, soreness, sleep, perceived effort and readiness are part of the internal response. Two players can complete the same schedule and experience it differently.

LayerWhat public data can show hereWhat remains private or unknown
ExposureFour starts; 337 minutes; match spacing; modelled routeTraining load; sprint distance; accelerations; collisions
ResponsePlayer asked to come off; coach described him as spentWellness scores; sleep; soreness; perceived exertion
Medical outcomeNo injury was announced at the research cutoffClinical findings; later symptoms; future injury risk
AvailabilityStarted all four Norway matchesReadiness for the next club match

Calling the Porto substitution “functional fatigue” can be useful as editorial shorthand, but it should not be mistaken for a validated diagnosis or a new binary statistic. A better description is a fatigue-signalled substitution: a visible management decision supported by the player’s request and the coach’s explanation.

If analysis counts only injuries, it misses that signal. If it labels every early substitution as fatigue, it invents information. The useful middle ground is to record observable events—planned minute limits, requests to come off, rest from training, omitted starts and delayed club returns—while stating exactly who explained them and what is still unknown.

NISO’s question is about the brake, not only the speed

NISO’s response moved the discussion beyond one striker. The union called for clearer workload and recovery rules covering time between matches, continuous rest periods, travel strain and recovery after a long season. Its central concern was that protection should not depend on a player being the person who finally says stop.

That position is consistent with a 2025 FIFPRO consensus exercise involving 70 medical and performance experts. Its 12 proposed safeguards included a four-week off-season, at least two completely commitment-free weeks, a four-week retraining period before competition and explicit consideration of travel burden.

These are proposals from player representatives and independent specialists, not the current rules of every competition. They also do not turn one substitution into proof that a calendar design has failed. They do identify the governance question exposed in Porto: where should collective safeguards sit when a player’s competitive instinct is to remain available?

What this case changes—and what it does not

Our first window analysis found a consistent structural benefit: replacing two separate September and October periods with one integrated window removes a club-to-country round trip. Haaland’s case does not reverse that result. It adds another dimension.

Fewer transitions can coexist with concentrated match exposure. Lower travel distance can coexist with fatigue. Continued availability can coexist with reduced freshness. Those are not contradictions; they are different measurements.

A single case cannot tell us whether players were more or less fatigued under the old two-window structure. It cannot establish injury risk, and it cannot show that Haaland would have felt fresher under a different schedule. A matched comparison would need completed minutes, recovery intervals, travel, off-season length, club return and later health outcomes across a much larger group.

It can, however, improve what that future dataset looks for. Injury should remain an outcome, but not the only one. The moments before absence—the conversation about a minute limit, the player asking to leave, the coach changing the plan—belong in the record too.

Manchester City are scheduled to visit Liverpool on 11 October, seven calendar dates after the Portugal match. Whether Haaland trains, starts or plays is a follow-up observation, not a conclusion available today. The responsible approach is to record it when it happens.

Method note: National-team minutes and substitutions come from official NFF match records. “Full days” counts calendar dates strictly between matches. The route uses standardised city-centre coordinates and the haversine formula: Manchester → Oslo → Cardiff → Porto → Manchester, summed before rounding to the nearest 100 km. Time-zone shift is the sum of absolute UTC-offset changes on each leg at local noon, including daylight-saving time. It is a comparison proxy, not a measurement of jet lag. No airport, flight, hotel, training-base or personal movement is inferred. Research cutoff: 6 October 2026, 15:00 JST.

From a First Step to a Place to Stay: How Osaka’s Football Clubs Are Widening Access to Sport

An AI-generated editorial illustration connecting a child's first ball activity in a university gym with teenagers training on a school football field.

A child walks into a university arena unsure whether sport is really for them. Elsewhere in Osaka, a teenager wants to keep playing football, but the school system around that team is becoming harder to sustain. Neither scene belongs to the familiar world of elite academies. Both are places where a professional club may have something useful to offer.

Two recent projects involving Cerezo Osaka and Gamba Osaka sit at different points in a young person’s sporting life. One creates a gentle first encounter with movement. The other is designed to help an established school activity continue. Read together, they suggest a broader role for clubs: sharing their people, expertise and local standing so that more children can find a way into sport and a reason to stay.

A first step for children who feel left behind

On 18 August 2026, the Osaka Sports Association and Osaka Metropolitan University’s Research Center for Urban Health and Sports held a free Children’s Exercise Challenge Class at the university’s Morinomiya campus. It was designed for third- and fourth-year primary school pupils, particularly those who felt they were not good at exercise. The organisers set a capacity of 50.

The programme moved through running, throwing, rhythm exercises and games with a ball. University students worked alongside the children, while Cerezo ambassadors Toshinobu Katsuya and Yusuke Maruhashi joined the ball activities. The club’s account describes the ambassadors speaking to the children individually and sharing the simple pleasure of kicking a ball together.

That detail matters. Organised sport can appear to begin with confidence, ability and knowing the rules. A class built for children who already feel uneasy about exercise begins somewhere else. Its first task is to make movement feel possible and enjoyable.

Cerezo did not create the class alone. It was organised through the university and the Osaka Sports Association, using the university’s facilities, students and research base. The club brought recognisable football figures and a direct connection to play. This is a modest form of partnership, but also a practical one: each organisation contributes something the others do not hold by themselves.

Keeping a school team available

In Suita, the challenge begins later. The city says about eight in ten of its junior-high students take part in extracurricular clubs. At the same time, teacher workload and a shortage of staff able to serve as advisers have made it difficult in some schools to maintain the range and quality of those activities.

Suita has been testing external management since 2024 and now contracts out the operation of selected clubs across all of its municipal junior high schools. The school activity remains in place. An outside operator selects and coordinates coaches, communicates with schools and parents, handles incidents and accompanies teams to weekend competition. A teacher remains a school contact and continues to support pupils in their wider school life.

The city has now announced a model involving Gamba Osaka. Subject to the contracting process, Gamba Osaka Academy is due to manage the football clubs at three municipal junior high schools from April 2027. The two-year model is scheduled to run until March 2029, with the participating schools still to be selected in the material published by the city.

This is more than sending a coach for an occasional session. It places the academy inside the routine responsibilities of a school club. The value of the club’s expertise will lie not only in the content of a training session, but in whether it can help provide a dependable place to play week after week.

Two stages of the same journey

The projects are different in scale and status. Cerezo joined a class that has already taken place; Gamba’s school-club role is planned for 2027. One lasts a day and welcomes younger children at an entry point. The other is intended to operate for two years within the weekly life of junior-high students.

They nevertheless belong in the same conversation. Access to sport is not secured by opening a single door. Children need an invitation that feels safe, adults who understand how to teach them and places where participation can continue as they grow. Universities, public bodies, schools and community organisations all hold parts of that chain. Football clubs can strengthen it.

Japan’s wider reform of school club activities makes the second example especially timely. The national reform period that began in the 2026 financial year is intended to expand sustainable opportunities for children while reducing a system’s dependence on teachers alone. Suita has chosen to preserve extracurricular clubs as part of school education while outsourcing parts of their management. The planned work with Gamba is one local version of a much larger national transition.

Beyond the academy

Professional academies are usually judged by the players they produce. These Osaka projects point to another kind of contribution. Coaching knowledge can help a hesitant child enjoy a ball for the first time. Organisational capacity can help a school keep a familiar activity available. A club’s name can also give public programmes visibility and make participation feel connected to the football culture of the city.

Neither project needs to turn every participant into a footballer. The more generous ambition is to help children build a comfortable relationship with movement, teammates and a place to belong. Cerezo’s involvement begins with an invitation. Gamba’s planned role is about continuity. Osaka offers room for both.


This article is part of What can football learn from Japan?, FootballGravity’s continuing series on ideas, communities and experiments in Japanese football.

Dreams Have No Age: What Football Can Give Back

Original cream and green typographic cover reading Dreams have no age, with an abstract football pitch and the official FootballGravity logo.

Eleven Real Betis players walked onto the pitch before their match against Getafe on 17 September 2026. Beside them were eleven companions, wearing the club’s green and white. This time, the escorts were some of Betis’ oldest members.

The invitation gave older supporters a place in a ceremony usually associated with childhood. It also offered a different way to think about the relationship between a club and the people who sustain it. Supporters spend years giving football their time and affection. Here was an opportunity for football to give something memorable back.

The image remains worth spending time with after the match has passed. Walking onto a pitch alongside a player can be a dream at any age. A club has the means to make that dream possible.

A place in the Betis family

In its announcement, the Real Betis Foundation connected the Getafe occasion to its Older People’s Week, scheduled for 28 September–4 October. The programme included letters delivered to a care home through De Béticos a Abuelos, bringing generations into contact, and visits by older groups to La Cartuja. The foundation described its purpose as recognising older people’s contribution and keeping them actively involved in the Betis community.

Participation also extends to playing. A separate club announcement about Walking Football traces the project to 2022. Its advertised eligibility was women over 40 and men over 50, all club members. Running and balls above head height are prohibited, and contact is penalised. The adapted game offers another route into football as people grow older.

Those routes matter because people do not all want the same relationship with their club. One person may want to play again; another may enjoy exchanging letters or visiting the stadium. An invitation onto the pitch adds an extraordinary experience to those more regular forms of connection. Together, they give belonging somewhere to go.

The children beside the players

There is a useful historical connection to the familiar sight of children accompanying footballers. At the 2002 World Cup in Korea and Japan, FIFA and UNICEF worked together to promote children’s rights through the Say Yes for Children campaign. The Japan Committee for UNICEF’s contemporary materials record the campaign’s connection with the tournament.

A UEFA report published on 11 June 2002 described children accompanying each player at every match. It connected that visible role to football’s responsibility towards children, including their access to recreation and primary education. The walk onto the pitch carried a message beyond the coming game.

This establishes what the partnership did at that tournament; it does not establish when player escorts were first invented. What makes the connection interesting is the use of a few highly visible minutes to recognise people whose lives extend far beyond the stadium.

Betis’ invitation can be read as widening that possibility to another generation. That is an interpretation of the two occasions, rather than evidence of a formal connection between their organisers. Children retain every reason to be there. Older supporters have reasons of their own.

Japan’s supporters discover a new role

In Japan, a related idea has taken root through Be supporters!, an initiative begun by Suntory Wellness in December 2020 and promoted nationally with the J.League from 2021. It invites older people, including care-home residents and people living with dementia, to support local clubs. Its guiding phrase translates as moving from being supported to becoming someone who supports.

In an August 2025 announcement, the J.League reported participation across approximately 230 facilities, involving around 10,000 people cumulatively. Dating those figures matters: they describe the programme at that point, rather than its present size.

The league’s earlier account, from September 2022, included an 86-year-old who began studying Spanish after becoming a fan of a Spanish player, and a 90-year-old who normally used a walking frame taking steps independently to see a favourite player’s photograph. These are individual experiences reported by the organisers, rather than evidence of a general clinical effect.

The language-learning story is particularly telling. A new interest opens a door into another country and its language. There is a player to follow, a match to anticipate, something to talk about with somebody else. Curiosity continues to make demands on the world, long after the age at which society tends to expect it.

Betis and Be supporters! approach this relationship from different directions. In Seville, established members received an invitation to share the players’ entrance. In Japan, people accustomed to receiving assistance gain an opportunity to encourage a team. Both allow older people to take part in the present life of football.

Sustaining the people who sustain a club

Environmental action remains essential to football’s future. The sport depends on habitable places, usable pitches and communities able to live with a changing climate. Alongside that work, social sustainability asks how people remain connected to the institutions they care about through different stages of life.

The J.League includes Be supporters! within the People dimension of its sustainability activities. It is a useful reminder that sustaining a club also involves sustaining relationships: making room for someone whose mobility, circumstances or daily routine has changed.

A supporter can stay with a club longer than any player, manager or owner. Across those years, the contribution takes many forms, from buying tickets to bringing another generation to a first match. The club becomes part of family memory. Recognition of that commitment can be deeply personal, especially when it offers a new experience rather than simply commemorating the past.

Other clubs can find versions of these ideas that fit their own communities. A matchday invitation can sit beside regular contact with care homes or opportunities for adapted play. The arrangements need to follow the people involved: their wishes, their comfort and the assistance that makes participation possible. A shared walk onto the pitch becomes more meaningful when there are ways to remain connected afterwards.

A memory for life

We often describe a child’s visit to a stadium as a memory for life. The phrase belongs just as naturally to an experience made much later. The value of a new memory does not diminish because someone already has decades of memories behind them.

For the older members invited to accompany Betis’ players, the occasion made room for another chapter in their relationship with the club. We cannot know what each person felt without asking them. But we can recognise the generosity of making that space available, and the possibilities it leaves for others.

Football has long understood the joy of giving a child a first glimpse of the pitch. It can keep creating those moments throughout a person’s life. Dreams have no age.

Where Football Lives #04 — Istanbul: The City Changes Sides

Ferries crossing the Bosphorus at sunset beneath Istanbul's historic skyline, with Istanbul series typography and the FootballGravity logo.

Where Football Lives / 04. In Istanbul, football belongs to districts, shorelines and routes across the water. To understand the clubs, it helps to begin with the journey between them.

A ferry from Kadıköy to Beşiktaş does more than carry passengers from the Asian side of Istanbul to the European side. It joins two places whose names also belong to football clubs. The municipal ferry operator lists Kadıköy–Beşiktaş among the city’s regular inner routes, alongside crossings to Karaköy, Eminönü, Kabataş and the Golden Horn. For residents, the Bosphorus is part of the transport system before it becomes a view.

That distinction matters in a football city often introduced through spectacle. Istanbul can supply the grandest possible frame: water, hills, minarets, bridges and a population spread across two continents. Yet its clubs become more legible at district level. Fenerbahçe grew from Kadıköy and still plays there. Beşiktaş shares its name with the district around its waterfront home. Galatasaray began in a school in Beyoğlu and now stages its matches farther north at Seyrantepe.

These are not three versions of the same club. Their histories, institutions and supporter cultures should not be compressed into a visitor’s checklist of rivalries. What they share is a city whose geography makes belonging visible. A football day can involve a ferry, a metro branch, a funicular, a walk down a hill or a return across the strait after dark. The route is part of the club’s address.

A crossing built into ordinary life

Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality describes a city divided administratively into 39 districts and geographically into European and Anatolian sides. The water between them is substantial enough to organise daily movement, but too connected to function as a simple border. Ferries cross it repeatedly. Rail lines pass beneath it. Bridges carry road traffic above it. People change continents as part of an ordinary commute.

Football follows that pattern. The Şehir Hatları timetable includes direct Kadıköy–Beşiktaş services and routes linking Kadıköy with Karaköy, Eminönü and Kabataş. Metro Istanbul’s network adds another layer: the M4 begins at Kadıköy, while the M2 runs from the historic peninsula and central European districts towards Seyrantepe. The city does not need a special football transport map. Its everyday network already connects several of the places that give the game its identity.

This makes the Bosphorus useful without turning it into an easy metaphor about a city “between East and West”. The crossing is physical and practical. It changes where a supporter starts, how long the day takes and which part of Istanbul remains in view on the way to the match. The clubs belong to a transcontinental metropolis, but they are rooted in particular streets and institutions.

Fenerbahçe: the district remains in the name

Fenerbahçe offers the clearest link between club and local geography. The club was founded in 1907 by young men from Kadıköy and took its name from the Fenerbahçe neighbourhood and peninsula. Its early emblem referred to the lighthouse at Fenerbahçe Cape. The present stadium occupies the same part of Kadıköy where organised football was played in the early years of the game in Istanbul.

The current sponsored name is Chobani Stadyumu Fenerbahçe Şükrü Saracoğlu Spor Kompleksi. Sponsorship may alter the wording used in fixtures and broadcasts, but the setting remains Kadıköy. The M4 metro line begins nearby, suburban rail serves Söğütlüçeşme, and the ferry piers connect the district with the European shore. A home match therefore sits within a transport centre, a shopping area, residential streets and a waterfront district that continues to function beyond football.

For an outsider, the important point is not to treat the Asian side as an excursion away from the “main” Istanbul. Kadıköy is one of the city’s major centres in its own right. Fenerbahçe’s history makes that local confidence part of the club’s name. Arriving by ferry can clarify the scale of Istanbul, but arriving at Kadıköy should also correct the idea that everything across the water is peripheral.

Beşiktaş at the water’s edge

On the European shore, Beşiktaş presents a different form of proximity. The club dates its foundation to 1903 and began as a multi-sport institution. Its stadium address is in Vişnezade, within Beşiktaş district, beside the Dolmabahçe area and close to the Bosphorus. Few large grounds occupy such a visible place in a city’s central landscape.

The old İnönü Stadium opened in 1947. Beşiktaş demolished it after the 2012/13 season and built the present ground on the same site. The replacement staged its first match in April 2016. The club lists the Tüpraş Stadyumu as a 42,000-seat venue containing the Beşiktaş JK Museum, shops, restaurants and spaces intended for use beyond matchdays.

Its location changes the approach. Beşiktaş has a ferry pier, Kabataş connects with the tram and the Taksim funicular, and the district is reached by buses and walking routes from several central areas. The stadium is not hidden at the end of a dedicated sports corridor. It appears within the same urban field as the waterfront, Dolmabahçe Palace, hotels, universities, offices and steep streets climbing inland.

Galatasaray: origin and home are two different points

Galatasaray’s geography contains a greater distance between birthplace and present stadium. The club’s official history begins in 1905, when Ali Sami Yen and fellow students decided to form a football club at Galatasaray High School. The school stands on İstiklal Avenue in Beyoğlu, and the club’s name preserves that institutional origin.

The men’s football team now plays at Ali Sami Yen Spor Kompleksi RAMS Park in Seyrantepe, north of central Beyoğlu. Metro Istanbul’s M2 connects the older city centre with the Seyrantepe branch, requiring a transfer at Sanayi Mahallesi. The journey moves from the dense public life around İstiklal and Taksim towards a modern stadium district beside major roads and newer development.

That separation does not weaken the club’s connection to the city. It reveals how an institution can keep more than one important address. The school explains the name and founding culture. The stadium accommodates the scale of the contemporary club. Between them lies a century of Istanbul expanding, rebuilding and moving its centres of activity.

A city larger than its three famous clubs

Any account centred on Fenerbahçe, Beşiktaş and Galatasaray leaves much of Istanbul’s football outside the frame. Başakşehir, Kasımpaşa, Eyüpspor, Fatih Karagümrük and other clubs carry different district histories, ambitions and supporter relationships. Their prominence changes across divisions and seasons, but their existence matters. Istanbul is not a closed triangle with the rest of the city serving only as neutral ground.

The famous rivalries can also obscure the fact that these institutions extend beyond men’s football. Their histories include other sports, schools, museums, social organisations and facilities distributed through Istanbul. A scarf may identify a football allegiance, while the club itself can be encountered through basketball, volleyball, rowing or a family connection that predates the current team.

This breadth is one reason visitors should resist choosing a club through a stereotype about class, politics or personality. Such descriptions often turn a changing city into a fixed set of characters. District, family, school, success, friendship and personal history can all shape attachment. None can be read reliably from a ferry ticket or a neighbourhood address.

Let the route explain the city

A useful football visit to Istanbul begins by accepting that the city will take time. Choose one match rather than trying to collect several stadiums as quickly as possible. Buy through the club’s official channel, confirm current ticket and identity requirements, and check transport notices near the fixture date. Derby arrangements and access restrictions require particular care.

Then leave room around the match. If the destination is Kadıköy, the ferry can make the approach part of the day. If it is Beşiktaş, arriving at the waterfront before walking towards the ground preserves the scale of the district. For Galatasaray, the M2 journey from Beyoğlu towards Seyrantepe makes the distance between the club’s origin and current home intelligible. These are suggestions for reading the city, not rituals to imitate.

Como placed football at the edge of a lake. Valencia showed a century-old ground pressed into residential streets. Marseille gathered many districts beneath one roof. Istanbul adds movement between several centres. No single stadium can contain the city’s football identity, and no single crossing resolves its rivalries. The value lies in seeing how strongly each club belongs somewhere specific while remaining part of a metropolis that is always moving between shores.

After the match, the route opens again. Ferries continue across the Bosphorus, metro trains divide towards different districts, and the crowd disperses into a city too large for one club to explain. Istanbul’s football lives in its grounds, but also in the repeated act of travelling from one part of the city to another without leaving the city at all.

This draft was prepared from published sources with AI assistance; it is not a report from an on-site visit. Club naming, ticketing, identity requirements, stadium access and transport conditions should be checked close to the fixture date.

From the Stands to the Reef: How Kawasaki Frontale Supports Coral Conservation

An AI-generated editorial illustration linking football stands in a Japanese city with a coral reef off Okinawa.

At a Kawasaki Frontale home game, a small coral planting base becomes a canvas. Supporters add colour, a shirt number or a message, knowing that the finished piece will later travel to Onna Village on the west coast of Okinawa. There, local specialists attach a nursery-grown coral fragment and place it in the sea.

It is a simple journey from a matchday workshop to a living reef. It also offers a thoughtful answer to a question that matters far beyond Japan: how can a football club help people care about an ecosystem they may never have seen?

Frontale enters a story that began long before the club arrived. The ecological knowledge and the long-term work belong to people in Onna who have been raising, transplanting and monitoring coral for years. The club brings a new group of participants, a public stage and a relationship that keeps Okinawa present in Kawasaki long after pre-season camp has ended.

A camp relationship that travelled north

Kawasaki Frontale has held training camps in Onna since 2021. The village is one of Okinawa’s best-known resort areas, but the relationship has gradually grown beyond the practical needs of preparing a football team.

In August 2023, an Onna-themed event at Frontale’s home stadium included a coral-base painting workshop. The club explained that staff from Okinawa Diving Service Lagoon would later attach coral seedlings to the decorated bases and transplant them into the sea. The workshop returned in 2024, 2025 and 2026. Its advertised capacity grew from 100 participants in 2024 to 125 in each of the following two editions.

The wider event brought more of Onna to Kawasaki: tourism information, local products and environmental learning. In 2025, the club and village formalised their connection through a friendship agreement. The plans attached to it include sports tourism, educational programmes, improvements around the village’s sports facilities and activities that raise awareness of nature conservation and climate change.

This continuity matters. A one-day workshop can introduce an idea; a repeated event and an institutional relationship give people a reason to meet it again.

Joining conservation work already under way

Onna did not begin caring for coral when a J.League club arrived. The village declared itself a “Coral Village” in 2018 and has built environmental stewardship into its approach to tourism and local development. The Onna Village Fisheries Cooperative and its partners had already developed methods for raising coral fragments from locally sourced parent colonies, transplanting them and checking what happened afterwards.

A peer-reviewed study published in 2020 followed five Acropora species transplanted off Onna in 2013 and 2014. The researchers photographed individual colonies at roughly six-month intervals, recording differences in growth among species and sites. Some colonies matured and spawned within about two and a half years. Those corals were part of the village’s earlier restoration work, not Frontale’s workshops, but the study shows the local knowledge and monitoring culture into which the football project fits.

The arrangement respects that division of roles. Onna provides the coral expertise; Frontale opens the work to a new audience.

What football can bring

Coral bleaching can feel distant to someone living in a city near Tokyo. A matchday activity gives it a human scale. A supporter makes something by hand; a local specialist completes the technical work; the object enters the sea in a place connected to the club. The path is easy to understand, and it turns an environmental issue into a relationship between people and places.

That does not make the environmental challenge small. Unusually warm water caused severe bleaching around Okinawa in 2024, including heavy losses at monitored sites in Manza Bay. Coral planting cannot remove the heat stress affecting reefs. It can, however, form part of local conservation practice while helping more people understand what is at stake.

Football is useful here because it already has attention and shared rituals. The same supporter who comes for a league match can encounter an Okinawan community, learn why healthy reefs matter to local life and tourism, and take part in a small act of care. The club makes that encounter possible without asking every participant to become a marine biologist.

A small place to begin

The workshop is best understood as one part of a wider effort. Its painted bases join the village’s established conservation process, while the matchday setting allows that work to reach people far from Okinawa. The club’s contribution begins with participation and attention; both gain value when the relationship continues year after year.

Its value is easier to see in the connection it creates. The workshop carries Onna’s conservation work into a J.League matchday. The club’s annual camp becomes part of a longer relationship with the place that hosts it. Tourism promotion sits beside a reminder that the landscape drawing visitors also needs care.

A painted base is a small object. Yet it can carry a supporter’s attention from the stands in Kawasaki to the water off Okinawa. When a club uses its reach to help local expertise travel further, small is a perfectly worthwhile place to begin.


This article is part of What can football learn from Japan?, FootballGravity’s continuing series on ideas, communities and experiments in Japanese football.

Manchester United FY2026: Building for the Next Phase

A scarlet cut-paper editorial illustration of Manchester’s canals, brick mills and railway lines leading towards a tactical pitch and a future stadium model, with the title Manchester United FY2026: Building for the Next Phase.

Manchester United produced record revenue without European football in 2025/26. The accounts show an operating recovery taking shape as the club prepares to invest in its next phase.

Manchester United’s latest accounts bring together several parts of the club’s current transition. Revenue reached a club record of £677.6 million, the operating result returned to profit and operating cash generation improved substantially. The year also ended with a £43.0 million loss.

These figures describe different layers of the same year. None, on its own, captures the club’s position particularly well.

The audited accounts for the year to 30 June 2026 show an operating business that has become lighter and more productive. They also show a club carrying substantial debt, paying for past and current squad investment, and beginning to commit capital to a proposed 100,000-seat stadium. Cash was generated. More cash was then directed towards players and property than the business produced during the year.

Taken together, the figures show a club creating more capacity in its day-to-day operations while investing in two connected priorities: the team that must compete now, and the infrastructure intended to support United for decades.

The operating recovery is real

United achieved their record revenue despite the men’s team not playing in a UEFA competition. A third-place Premier League finish lifted broadcasting revenue to £206.8 million, partly offsetting falls in commercial and matchday income. The club hosted ten fewer home matches than in the previous season.

£mFY2024FY2025FY2026
Revenue661.8666.5677.6
Operating profit/(loss)(69.4)(18.4)22.6
Loss for the year(113.2)(33.0)(43.0)
Net operating cash inflow85.772.7178.7
Employee benefit expense364.7313.3302.0

Source: Manchester United plc audited consolidated financial statements. Figures rounded to one decimal place.

Operating expenses fell by £31.8 million. Employee benefit expenses decreased by £11.2 million to £302.0 million, reflecting changes to the first-team squad and the headcount reductions introduced over the previous two financial years. Other operating expenses fell by another £11.2 million. Adjusted EBITDA, the club’s preferred non-IFRS measure of underlying performance, rose 18.4 per cent to £216.4 million.

The result was a £22.6 million operating profit, following losses of £18.4 million in 2025 and £69.4 million in 2024. Any assessment of the restructuring’s human and institutional consequences should not be reduced to a line in the accounts. Financially, however, the direction over these three years is clear.

From operating profit to the final result

Football accounting places several different decisions into the same income statement. United recorded £211.8 million of amortisation, principally relating to player registrations. This is the accounting cost of spreading transfer fees and directly associated acquisition costs across contract lengths; it is not the amount paid for players in cash during the year.

At 30 June, the unamortised value of registrations was £452.3 million. Of that amount, £156.1 million was scheduled to be charged in FY2027 before taking account of the summer’s subsequent arrivals, departures and contract changes. United also recognised £46.9 million of profit on player disposals and £8.2 million of exceptional costs, including costs associated with Ruben Amorim’s departure and the closing stages of the operational restructuring.

Below operating profit, net finance costs reached £69.6 million, up from £21.2 million. That change requires care. Interest on the term loan, secured notes and revolving facilities was £35.6 million, almost unchanged from the previous year. Cash interest paid increased only slightly, from £37.2 million to £38.9 million.

The wider finance line also included an £18.9 million unwinding of discounts on player-registration liabilities, a £10.0 million unrealised foreign-exchange loss on unhedged US-dollar borrowings, transfer-receivable costs and hedge movements. The comparison was made more dramatic by £22.9 million of foreign-exchange gains and £11.4 million of hedge-related income in FY2025. It would therefore be misleading to say that United’s debt interest simply rose from £21 million to £70 million.

After those finance costs and a £4.0 million tax credit, the club reported its £43.0 million loss.

Cash was generated, then invested

The cash-flow statement gives the year a different shape. Net cash generated by operating activities was £178.7 million, more than double the previous year’s £72.7 million. United were not a business unable to turn revenue into cash.

FY2026 cash movement£m
Net operating cash inflow+178.7
Cash paid for player registrations and other intangibles(292.3)
Cash received from registration disposals+148.6
Property, plant and equipment(85.9)
Net financing inflow+35.3
Exchange-rate effect(3.3)
Change in cash(18.9)

Registration cash flows include players and key football-management staff. Totals may differ slightly because of rounding.

The net cash outflow on registrations was £143.7 million, close to the club’s five-year annual average of £146.1 million. A further £85.9 million went into property, plant and equipment. That included £7.7 million at Old Trafford, £14.7 million at Carrington and £63.5 million for freehold property connected to the proposed new stadium.

The accounts do not identify one particular borrowing as the source of the land purchase. Operating cash, player-sale proceeds and financing form a common pool. What can be said is that United generated £178.7 million from operations, spent £229.6 million net on investing activities and ended the year with £67.2 million in cash, £18.9 million less than they had started with.

Extending the financial horizon

At 30 June, United carried £689.0 million of borrowings at book value and reported net debt of £621.7 million. The club had £110 million drawn from a £400 million revolving credit facility, leaving £290 million available.

In June, the club refinanced $425 million of senior secured notes with $550 million of new notes carrying a fixed 5.36 per cent coupon and maturing in 2031. The $225 million term loan was also extended to 2031. This was not a reduction in debt. It moved a maturity away, increased the principal amount of the notes and gave the club more time and liquidity for its next phase.

The transfer balance sheet adds another layer. Recognised payables for registrations stood at £375.0 million, of which £156.7 million was due after more than one year. A further maximum £122.8 million could become payable if specified performance conditions are met. These figures describe instalments and conditional obligations; they are not evidence of overdue payments.

After the year-end, United committed £191.7 million to player and football-staff registrations and contract extensions, payable across the following five years. The revolving facility was drawn further during July and August and partly repaid in September, leaving £200 million outstanding on 21 September. The timing is consistent with a club using its liquidity through a summer transfer cycle, but the filing does not assign individual drawdowns to particular signings.

A stadium project before the financing model

The £63.5 million land purchase is important because it turns the stadium ambition into a balance-sheet commitment. It does not yet tell us how a new ground will be financed, what it will cost or when it will open.

Other European clubs illustrate why that missing architecture matters. Tottenham’s stadium debt is large, but more than 90 per cent of its £851.7 million borrowings were fixed at an average rate of 3.07 per cent in its FY2025 accounts, with an average maturity of 17.6 years. Real Madrid reported €1.108 billion drawn for the Bernabéu project at June 2026; the redeveloped stadium was already producing €363 million of revenue, more than twice its pre-renovation level. Barcelona, still navigating construction and delays, approved €510 million of additional financing within the wider Espai Barça structure, including media notes secured against future broadcasting income.

These are not entries in a financial league table. They are projects at different stages, owned under different structures and reported under different accounting definitions. The useful comparison concerns duration, interest-rate exposure, security and the asset’s eventual earning power.

United remain before that decision. The club has secured land and extended existing debt, but has not published a complete stadium-finance model. Until it does, the land purchase should be read as evidence of intent rather than proof that the project is fully funded.

The next test is what Champions League revenue enables

For FY2027, United forecast revenue of £740 million to £760 million and adjusted EBITDA of £205 million to £225 million. Revenue is expected to rise by between 9.2 and 12.2 per cent; adjusted EBITDA may finish slightly below or slightly above FY2026.

The guidance includes the return of Champions League football and the associated increase in player-staff costs. It does not separate the UEFA effect from new sponsorships, domestic performance, matchday income or retail growth. Calling the entire expected increase “Champions League money” would overstate what the company has disclosed.

The narrow EBITDA range may instead express something fundamental about football economics. Higher revenue is not always intended to become higher profit. Some of it buys the players, wages and depth required to remain in the competition that created the revenue in the first place.

Manchester United’s cultural value cannot be read from net debt, EBITDA or a transfer-payables note. The club matters because of its history, its supporters, its academy, its teams and its place in the city. Finance matters because it determines how securely those things can be carried forward.

FY2026 shows progress, pressure and ambition in the same set of accounts. The operating recovery has given United more capacity to act. The club has begun using that capacity on the squad and the first piece of a possible new home. The next few years will show how successfully those investments support a shared long-term plan.

Method note: Manchester United figures are taken from the audited FY2026 Form 20-F, approved on 24 September 2026, and the company’s FY2026 results release. Adjusted EBITDA is a company-defined non-IFRS measure. Cross-club stadium comparisons use each club’s own published definitions and are not intended as like-for-like rankings.

One Less Round Trip: What FIFA’s New International Window Changes

An AI-generated abstract editorial map showing two separate clusters of international travel routes becoming one continuous route network, with the article title and FootballGravity logo.

Part one of Between Club and Country, a FootballGravity series on how the international calendar is experienced from different points on the map.

For a Europe-based Japan international, September and October 2025 contained two distinct journeys. In September, Japan played Mexico in Oakland and the United States in Columbus. After the players returned to their clubs, the October window brought matches against Paraguay in Osaka and Brazil in Tokyo. Each international window began at the player’s club city and ended there again.

The equivalent period in 2026 has a different shape. FIFA’s men’s calendar replaces the two nine-day, two-match windows with one 16-day window in which a national team may play up to four matches. Japan’s published programme runs from Miyagi to Hiroshima, Yokohama and Tokyo. For a player based in Europe, that means one long club-to-country cycle instead of two.

How much does that alter the journey? FootballGravity modelled ten leading internationals, holding each player’s 2026 club city constant across both calendars. Every route became shorter. The reduction ranged from 16.6% to 46.3%. The common change was simpler still: four switches between club and national-team environments became two.

Ten players, one calendar change, ten different results

The comparison is deliberately standardised. It begins in the player’s 2026 club home city, joins the host cities in fixture order and returns to the same club city. The 2025 side of the model does not use the club the player represented at the time. That removes transfers from the comparison: Son Heung-min is anchored to Los Angeles in both years, for example, and Ayase Ueda to Lille.

PlayerNational teamFixed club city2025 model2026 modelChange
Daichi KamadaJapanLondon37,600 km20,500 km−17,200 km (−45.6%)
Ayase UedaJapanLille38,000 km20,400 km−17,600 km (−46.3%)
Takefusa KuboJapanSan Sebastián40,100 km22,200 km−18,000 km (−44.7%)
Vinícius JúniorBrazilMadrid41,900 km34,900 km−7,000 km (−16.6%)
Julián ÁlvarezArgentinaMadrid37,500 km20,800 km−16,700 km (−44.5%)
Son Heung-minKorea RepublicLos Angeles27,200 km19,800 km−7,400 km (−27.1%)
Kim Min-jaeKorea RepublicMunich32,500 km17,800 km−14,700 km (−45.2%)
Kylian MbappéFranceMadrid10,300 km6,400 km−3,900 km (−37.8%)
Harry KaneEnglandMunich7,600 km4,700 km−2,900 km (−38.3%)
Nicolas JacksonSenegalBirmingham31,100 km19,400 km−11,700 km (−37.6%)

These are great-circle distances between standardised city-centre points, rounded to the nearest 100 km for publication. They are not the kilometres a player actually flew. No airport, connection, hotel, training base or personal movement has been inferred. The names identify recognisable club-and-country geographies; they do not turn the exercise into individual tracking.

Japan shows what the missing round trip is worth

The three Japan players sit in a remarkably narrow band. Kamada’s model falls from about 37,600 km to 20,500 km. Ueda’s falls from 38,000 km to 20,400 km, and Kubo’s from 40,100 km to 22,200 km. Each reduction is roughly 45%.

The small differences among London, Lille and San Sebastián matter less than the deleted gateway journey. In 2025, the model sends each player from Europe to the United States and back, then from Europe to Japan and back. In 2026, there is one Europe-to-Japan cycle. Travel between Japan’s four host cities contributes about 1,600 km; the long-haul entry and exit contribute most of the total.

Álvarez presents a similar pattern. With Madrid fixed as the club base, his two 2025 windows run through Buenos Aires and Guayaquil, then Miami twice. The 2026 programme stays in Argentina, moving from Córdoba to Buenos Aires. The resulting reduction is about 16,700 km. The calculation also shows why final venues matter: Argentina’s second October 2025 friendly was originally announced for Chicago, but the AFA later moved it to Miami. The model uses the match as played, not the first announcement.

One camp can still contain an enormous journey

Vinícius is the clearest counterexample to a simple “one window means less travel” story. His total still falls, but only from about 41,900 km to 34,900 km. Brazil’s 2026 programme begins with two matches in Australia and continues in Kolkata. In the model, Townsville to Brisbane to Kolkata creates about 10,000 km of travel inside the national-team camp. The equivalent between-match component across Brazil’s two 2025 windows was about 3,800 km.

The merged window removes a second departure from and return to Madrid. It does not remove the geography chosen within the remaining camp. Those two effects pull in opposite directions, leaving Vinícius with the smallest percentage reduction in the sample and the largest 2026 total.

Jackson’s route makes the same point on a different map. His Birmingham gateway distance almost halves, but Senegal’s published sequence still runs through Maputo, Bahir Dar and Marseille. The three match cities contribute nearly 8,900 km between them. “One camp” describes an administrative period, not a compact location.

The player and the national team bring different maps

Son and Kim follow exactly the same Korea Republic fixtures in this model. Their results are different because they begin elsewhere. Korea’s September 2025 matches were in the United States, relatively close to Son’s fixed Los Angeles base. October then required the long trip to Seoul. From Munich, Kim crossed between Europe, North America and Korea across the two windows.

Under the 2026 schedule, Korea plays all four matches at home. Son’s distance falls by 27.1%; Kim’s falls by 45.2%. The calendar rule is the same, and the national-team itinerary is the same. The club location changes the effect.

Mbappé and Kane show why percentages need kilometres beside them. Their totals decline by about 38%, close to Jackson’s proportional change. In absolute terms, however, Mbappé’s reduction is around 3,900 km and Kane’s 2,900 km. The Europe-based national-team routes were already much smaller than the long-haul examples. A large percentage does not automatically describe a large journey.

Fewer transitions are not a verdict on player load

One conclusion is uniform across all ten cases. Two 2025 windows create four club↔national-team transitions: club to country and country to club, twice. The 2026 window creates two. That means fewer repeated departures, arrivals and returns to the club environment. It also means a longer uninterrupted national-team camp.

The match spacing is less uniform. Counting only complete calendar dates between national-team matches, Argentina’s 2026 schedule provides two full days between each game. Korea has three each time. Senegal has three, then four. Japan’s shortest interval remains two full days, the same minimum as in 2025. The new design permits a longer sequence of matches without forcing every team into the same rhythm.

Distance is therefore not a synonym for load, recovery or welfare. The model does not know minutes played, training intensity, sleep timing, route connections, cabin conditions, medical decisions or how quickly a player re-enters club competition. Much of the 2026 window was still to be played at the publication cutoff, so representative minutes belong in a later update using completed match reports.

What the numbers establish is narrower and useful. The integrated window reliably removes one club-to-country cycle. For many long-haul players, that deletes a substantial gateway journey. The size of the gain then depends on two pieces of geography: the player’s club base and the national team’s route inside the window. The next articles in this series will separate those maps more closely, beginning with the contrasting Korea routes and the travel that remains inside a single camp.

Method note: FootballGravity modelled routes from each player’s 2026 club home city to his national team’s published September and October host cities, in fixture order, and back to the same club city. The 2025 comparison uses that same 2026 club base to remove transfer effects. Distances use the haversine formula and standardised city-centre coordinates; totals are summed before being rounded to the nearest 100 km. “Full rest days” are calendar dates strictly between matches. The routes do not reconstruct actual travel, and scheduled 2026 fixtures may change. Research cutoff: 26 September 2026.

Seven Million First Kicks: What Comes Next for UEFA Football in Schools?

An AI-generated editorial illustration of school football spaces connected by paths to community pitches and a wider town.

For many children, football does not begin in a stadium, an academy or even a club. It begins at school: a ball in a playground, a teacher with a simple game and a chance to join without already belonging to the sport.

UEFA has tried to make that first experience available at continental scale. Its Football in Schools programme reported 7.2 million children introduced to the game during its first cycle from 2020 to September 2024. It involved 41,500 schools, trained 111,000 teachers and reached more than three million girls. UEFA also recorded 15,500 volunteers, 4,400 festivals and events, and 830 new links between schools and clubs across all 55 member associations.

Those figures describe an unusual achievement in reach. By the end of 2025, UEFA’s running total had risen to 7.6 million children. The organisation has committed a further €11 million for 2024–28, taking its own investment across the programme’s first eight years to €22 million.

The next opportunity is to follow the journey beyond the first session. How often does an introduction become a habit? Does a school programme lead to more movement across the whole day, a welcoming route into a club or a stronger sense of belonging? These are not objections to counting participation. They are the questions that become possible because UEFA and its associations have built something large enough to follow.

Schools make the first step more open

A club is not an equally easy starting point for every family. Membership fees, travel, equipment, confidence and knowledge of the local system can all affect access. A school is different. Children are already there, the setting is familiar and an activity can reach those who would not have sought out football on their own.

That is why Football in Schools is best understood as more than a talent pathway. UEFA describes its aim as providing a safe and positive experience regardless of ability, gender, ethnicity or religion. The programme also promotes physical activity and values including cooperation, respect, fair play and leadership. Its national forms are delivered through partnerships among football associations, schools, education authorities, teachers and local clubs.

At this scale, football begins to resemble social infrastructure: not because every session produces a measurable social benefit, but because the game supplies people, places and relationships through which regular activity can happen. The important unit is not only the child reached on one day. It is also the teacher who can run another session, the school that keeps equipment available and the local organisation ready to welcome a child who wants to continue.

Different countries are building different bridges

The variety inside the European programme is one of its strengths. A UEFA review published during Grassroots Week 2026 shows national associations working on several stages of the journey rather than repeating one model.

In Sweden, Skolbollen serves children from preschool to Year 9. Participating schools receive equipment, training and a guide containing more than 100 adaptable games. More than 2,100 schools take part, and nearly a third have established a partnership with a local club. This combines broad access with a possible next step into organised football.

Lithuania’s Futboliukas offers an eight-month programme for children aged three to seven. Around 30,000 children participate each year through more than 400 institutions. Monthly plans and digital resources allow teachers without a football background to lead activities, while club links give interested children somewhere to go afterwards. The design values repetition: football returns through the school year rather than arriving as a single festival.

Switzerland’s Doppelpass starts explicitly with the connection between school and club. Its latest iteration recorded 28 new links; half included after-school sport and ten were designed specifically for girls. The number is modest beside the Europe-wide reach figure, yet it describes a different kind of output: an institutional relationship that may support continued participation.

None of these measures answers every question. A partnership on paper does not tell us how many children use it, how welcome they feel or how long they remain involved. It does, however, bring the programme closer to the next stage of measurement.

Malta shows what an outcome study can add

The clearest example so far comes from Malta. The Malta Football Association’s Fun Fit 5 programme used Football in Schools support for daily 45-minute physical-activity sessions in primary schools. MCAST researchers followed Year 4 pupils during the 2022–23 school year, comparing three treatment classes with three control classes across three state primary schools.

The research report found that children in the treatment group took an average of 5,836 steps during school hours, compared with 4,239 in the control group. The difference — 1,597 steps, or about 38% — was statistically significant (p = .049).

The result needs its full context. The study did not find a statistically significant increase in total daily steps: the treatment group’s daily total was lower by an estimated 1,788 steps, but the difference could not be distinguished from chance (p = .34). Nor did the intervention produce a significant difference in the change in academic performance between groups (p = .70). The careful conclusion is therefore useful and limited: the daily programme increased movement during school hours, while the study found no significant academic disadvantage; it did not demonstrate an increase in movement across the whole day.

The researchers also state the boundaries of their work. Classes could not be randomly assembled, the pedometer sample was small and the one-year study could not establish long-term effects. That candour is part of the value. A serious outcome study can reveal a positive result, a neutral result and an uncertainty at the same time.

From reach to social outcome

A practical measurement chain for Football in Schools could have four stages.

  • Reach: who was offered the programme, where, how often and at what cost?
  • Experience: did children feel safe, included and eager to return?
  • Continuation: did they keep playing at school, join a club or choose another form of regular physical activity?
  • Social outcome: did activity levels, wellbeing, confidence, friendship or access improve, and for whom?

The sequence matters. It prevents a participation count from being asked to prove more than it can. It also avoids treating club registration as the only successful destination. A child may become more active without joining a team. Another may enjoy football for a term, build confidence and move towards a different sport. For a programme that presents itself as inclusive and educational, those routes deserve to be visible too.

Europe-wide reporting could begin with a small shared set of measures: repeat participation, frequency and duration of sessions, girls’ participation, school-to-club transitions, accessibility by place and socioeconomic background, and follow-up after six or twelve months. National associations would still need room to measure what matters in their own settings. Sweden’s school network, Lithuania’s eight-month rhythm and Switzerland’s club links should not be flattened into a single league table.

The value of returning later

UEFA’s reach is already meaningful. Millions of children have been offered an experience that the club system alone might not have provided, and teachers across Europe have gained tools to make football part of the school day. The national examples show that the programme can become locally rooted rather than remain a sequence of central events.

It is too early to describe Europe-wide continuation or long-term social effects. That makes this a starting point rather than a verdict. As the second funding cycle develops, the most revealing number may be the one that connects today’s first kick with what a child is still doing a year later.

Football in Schools has established reach. Malta has shown that outcome research is possible, including results that resist a simple success story. Sweden, Lithuania and Switzerland are building bridges from a school session towards regular participation. Taken together, they suggest the next chapter: protect the joy and openness of the first experience, then learn carefully what it allows children and communities to sustain.

Method note: UEFA figures in this article are reported programme totals and are attributed to UEFA; FootballGravity has not independently audited participant counting across 55 associations. The Fun Fit 5 findings come from MCAST’s mixed-method, quasi-experimental report and are not generalised here to all countries or age groups. “Football as social infrastructure” is FootballGravity’s analytical frame, not an official UEFA designation or a claim that long-term effects have already been established.

Milan, Between Eras: When Greatness Still Had a Successor

An abstract editorial illustration in charcoal, oxblood red and ivory, with arches and a luminous thread representing AC Milan passing knowledge between football eras.

Part one of Milan, Between Eras, a club study in FootballGravity’s How Teams Change series, examining how AC Milan once renewed great teams without severing the knowledge that made them great.

AC Milan’s summer of 2012 is easy to remember as a sale. Thiago Silva and Zlatan Ibrahimović went to Paris Saint-Germain within days of one another. The image is clean, dramatic and financially legible: a world-class defender and Serie A’s leading scorer leaving the same club for the same destination.

The deeper rupture had begun before either transfer was completed. On 13 May, Milan beat Novara in the final game of the league season. Gennaro Gattuso, Filippo Inzaghi, Alessandro Nesta, Clarence Seedorf, Gianluca Zambrotta and Mark van Bommel all made their last Milan appearances. Inzaghi scored the winner from a Seedorf pass. It was an almost excessively perfect farewell scene, followed two months later by the departure of the team’s best defender and most decisive forward.

What Milan lost that summer was larger than a list of names. For more than two decades, the club had been unusually good at making greatness overlap. One generation did not disappear before the next one learned how Milan worked. Players, coaches and habits crossed the boundary together. The question raised by 2012 is therefore not simply why so much quality left. It is why the next Milan had so little time beside the previous one.

The first inheritance was a way of playing

Arrigo Sacchi’s Milan is often recalled through the Dutch trio, and reasonably so. Ruud Gullit and Marco van Basten arrived in 1987; Frank Rijkaard followed a year later. Yet the team that beat Steaua București 4–0 in the 1989 European Cup final was built from two kinds of knowledge. The Dutchmen gave Milan force, technique and a new international horizon. Franco Baresi, Paolo Maldini, Mauro Tassotti and Alessandro Costacurta gave the defence an Italian spine that already understood the club.

Sacchi’s real inheritance was collective. Milan compressed the pitch, defended forward and asked gifted players to submit their movement to a shared geometry. The club’s official history calls the game itself an “extra man”. The phrase matters because it explains how the team survived individual change. A star could leave, decline or be unavailable; a method could be taught.

Fabio Capello inherited much of that platform and altered its emphasis. His Milan were more pragmatic and, over time, less dependent on the Dutch attack. The 1993/94 season provides the sharpest evidence. Gullit and Rijkaard had left, Van Basten’s ankle had effectively ended his career, and Baresi and Costacurta were suspended for the Champions League final. Milan still beat Johan Cruyff’s Barcelona 4–0, with Filippo Galli and Christian Panucci entering a defensive structure that remained recognisable.

This was renewal without theatrical reinvention. Capello added Marcel Desailly, Zvonimir Boban and Dejan Savićević, while Maldini, Tassotti, Baresi, Costacurta, Roberto Donadoni and Demetrio Albertini carried standards between teams. Four Scudetti in five seasons, three consecutive European finals and a 58-match unbeaten league run were produced by continuity that still allowed difference.

Ancelotti rebuilt the centre of the team

Carlo Ancelotti’s Milan did not recreate Sacchi’s football. It recreated the club’s ability to assemble exceptional players around a coherent idea. The connection to the old Milan was personal as well as tactical: Ancelotti had played in Sacchi’s midfield; Maldini and Costacurta remained in the squad; Massimo Ambrosini had arrived in 1995. Around them, Milan built a new centre.

Andrea Pirlo came in 2001 and was moved away from his earlier attacking-midfield position to become the deep playmaker. Seedorf joined from Inter in 2002. Nesta arrived at the end of the same window, adding a defender able to protect space and begin possession. Rui Costa, Gattuso, Inzaghi and Andriy Shevchenko supplied different forms of invention, resistance and finishing. Kaká arrived in 2003 and immediately accelerated the team without making it abandon the ball.

The familiar team sheet can obscure how unusual the construction was. Pirlo, Seedorf, Rui Costa and Kaká were all players who wanted to interpret the game rather than merely occupy a lane. Ancelotti found roles that allowed their intelligence to coexist. Gattuso and Ambrosini gave the midfield its recoveries and duels; Maldini and Nesta provided authority behind it; Inzaghi and Shevchenko converted its control into depth and goals.

European championWhat remainedWhat changedKnowledge carrier
1988/89Baresi and an emerging MaldiniThe Dutch trio inside Sacchi’s collective gameBaresi
1993/94The defensive culture and senior coreCapello’s control; Desailly, Boban and SavićevićMaldini
2002/03Maldini, Costacurta and the memory of earlier winnersPirlo’s deeper role; Seedorf, Nesta and a new technical midfieldMaldini and Ancelotti
2006/07Seven starters from the 2003 finalKaká as the central accelerator; a narrower Christmas-tree shapeMaldini, Seedorf and the midfield core

The “knowledge carrier” column is FootballGravity’s editorial interpretation: it identifies people who connected successful sides through long service or lived experience, rather than assigning formal responsibility for club culture.

Athens was another version, not a reunion

Seven of Milan’s starters in the 2007 Champions League final had also started the 2003 final: Dida, Nesta, Maldini, Gattuso, Pirlo, Seedorf and Inzaghi. That figure sounds like preservation. The football says something more subtle.

Kaká had become the team’s vertical force and the competition’s leading scorer. Seedorf played higher, close enough to combine with him. Ambrosini added an extra midfielder, while Inzaghi occupied the centre-backs alone. The 4-3-2-1 of Athens distributed responsibility differently from the 4-3-1-2 that had started at Old Trafford four years earlier. Familiar players had changed jobs as the team aged and its most dangerous talent changed.

This may be the most useful definition of Milan’s old succession strength. The club did not always find a direct replacement. It found a new arrangement before the old one had entirely vanished. Kaká learned inside a team still led by Maldini. Pirlo’s new position was protected by midfielders who understood its risks. Nesta joined a defensive tradition while one of its defining figures was still beside him.

The last bridge still carried a title

The 2010/11 Scudetto can look like a late encore from the Berlusconi era. It was also a credible act of transition. Allegri kept Nesta, Gattuso, Seedorf, Ambrosini and Pirlo around a newer core. Thiago Silva had become the defence’s future. Ibrahimović gave the attack a reference point. Kevin-Prince Boateng and Robinho added running and flexibility, while Mark van Bommel arrived in January and immediately helped stabilise midfield.

The title-winning team against Roma contained both sides of the bridge: Nesta next to Thiago Silva, Gattuso and Seedorf around van Bommel, Ibrahimović ahead of Boateng and Robinho. Milan finished on 82 points, six clear of Inter, and secured the title with two matches remaining. The old group had not prevented renewal. It had given the new group context.

A year later, Milan finished second and scored more than 100 goals in all competitions. Ibrahimović was Serie A’s leading scorer with 28 league goals. The team was still competitive. That is what makes the summer of 2012 historically awkward: Milan were not dismantling an exhausted side that had already stopped mattering.

One summer removed the team and its memory

Gattuso, Inzaghi, Nesta, Seedorf, Zambrotta and van Bommel left after the Novara match. Pirlo had gone to Juventus the previous summer. Then PSG signed Thiago Silva and Ibrahimović in July. The departures belonged to different categories—retirement, expiring contracts, sporting choices and major sales—and should not be flattened into one decision. Their combined effect was still extraordinary.

Milan lost experience from almost every zone of the pitch, two current reference points and much of the group that could explain what elite Milan looked like from inside the dressing room. Philippe Mexès, Antonio Nocerino, Boateng, Robinho, Alexandre Pato and Stephan El Shaarawy were not without quality. What they inherited was a thinner institution.

It would be too convenient to make that summer the single cause of everything that followed. Italian football’s revenues were changing relative to its European rivals. Milan’s ownership model, wage structure, recruitment and later corporate transitions each deserve their own examination. Even the reported fees for Ibrahimović and Thiago Silva tell only part of the financial story; transfer income can protect accounts without constructing a successor.

Still, 2012 remains the hinge because it interrupted Milan’s old timing. Sacchi’s team had passed defenders, leaders and a method to Capello. Maldini had carried that memory into Ancelotti’s European champions. The 2011 title side still placed new authority beside old authority. After the summer of 2012, the next Milan had to learn with fewer witnesses.

The question is succession, not nostalgia

Great names can make this history feel like a museum. That is the wrong lesson. Milan’s best teams were alive because they changed: Sacchi’s pressing became Capello’s control; Ancelotti moved Pirlo and built through a crowded, intelligent midfield; Allegri won with a more physical side organised around Ibrahimović and Thiago Silva.

The continuity was human. Someone remained who knew the level, while someone new arrived who could alter it. Milan’s first chapter therefore ends with a question that reaches beyond one club. When a successful team grows old, how much ability must be replaced—and how much memory must be kept long enough to teach the replacement?

The next article will examine the years after the hinge: how Milan spent, what kinds of players it pursued, and why buying talent did not immediately restore the chain that had once connected one great team to another.

Method note: The four-team table compares European Cup-winning line-ups from 1989, 1994, 2003 and 2007 using AC Milan’s official match records. “Knowledge carrier” is a qualitative measure based on overlap, longevity and role; it does not claim access to private dressing-room influence. Reported 2012 transfer fees are intentionally omitted from the body because the clubs announced the moves without disclosing a combined official fee.

ASU-PASS!: Passing a Better Future Forward

An AI-generated editorial illustration of a football pass connecting green space, learning, exercise and community life in an abstract Japanese town.

A football does not need much introduction. In its most informal form, a game can begin with a ball, a patch of shared ground and an agreement about where the goals are. The rules are familiar across languages, ages and borders. That accessibility helps explain why FIFA routinely describes football as the world’s most popular sport — and why the game can carry ideas far beyond the touchline.

In Japan, the national association is putting that reach behind a broad sustainability programme called ASU-PASS! The name is written アスパス! in Japanese. It brings together Earth, asu — the Japanese word for tomorrow — us, and the footballing act of passing something forward.

The result is more than a slogan attached to one campaign. ASU-PASS! is the Japan Football Association’s shared name for work across five connected areas: environment, human rights, health, education and community. It gives activities that can otherwise look separate a common direction: using football to help create a future in which the game, and the communities around it, can thrive.

A name for the next hundred years

The JFA introduced ASU-PASS! in December 2021, the year of its centenary. Its announcement looked ahead to the association’s next hundred years, while drawing together work that had already been developing for much longer.

That distinction matters. ASU-PASS! did not begin with a blank page. Grassroots football, respect and fair-play education, the JFA Green Project, disaster recovery, children’s learning and women’s leadership were among the activities already in motion. The new framework made it easier to see them as parts of the same responsibility.

Its five areas are deliberately broad. Environment includes climate action, heat safety and reducing waste. Human rights covers the work of building a game free from violence and discrimination, narrowing children’s experience gaps, advancing gender equality and widening access. Health uses grassroots sport to support physical and mental wellbeing across generations. Education includes learning through football and programmes that encourage children to imagine their future. Community connects the game with recovery, disaster preparedness and stronger local relationships.

The categories are useful, but the most interesting work often crosses between them. Protecting players from extreme heat is an environmental and health issue. A welcoming place to play is about health, rights and community at once. A football lesson can become an education project, a meeting point and a first experience of belonging.

Why football can move an idea

The ambitions behind the Sustainable Development Goals are easy to support, yet their scale can make them feel remote from daily life. Climate, equality, health, learning and resilient communities are enormous subjects. People may agree with the destination without knowing where to begin.

Football offers an inviting first step. It has familiar places, shared rituals and networks that already gather people: a school field, a local association, a national-team match, a coaching course, a community club. An idea introduced there arrives through a relationship that already exists.

The JFA’s own sustainability strategy describes two strengths of the game: its power to connect and its power to encourage. ASU-PASS! uses both. It can connect an association with schools, municipalities, companies and civic organisations, then use the visibility and emotion of football to encourage action. In 2025, the JFA also joined the United Nations’ Football for the Goals initiative, placing this Japanese programme within a wider international effort to use football’s reach in support of the SDGs.

The size of the existing network gives that idea practical weight. The JFA works with 47 prefectural associations and nine regional associations, while its 2025 data records more than 836,000 registered football players. Those figures do not include everyone who plays informally, watches, volunteers or supports a family member. They show how many doors football can open before a sustainability conversation has even begun.

Five areas, many ways to take part

The breadth of ASU-PASS! is one of its strengths. A supporter might meet it through recycling or a food drive at a stadium. A coach may encounter it through safeguarding, respect or heat-safety guidance. A child may know it through outdoor play or a Dream Class. A town recovering from disaster may experience football as companionship, fundraising and a reason to gather again.

The JFA’s 2024 Sustainability Report shows this range in practice. It records support following the Noto Peninsula earthquake, learning and exercise programmes for children, work on inclusive participation, community events and a decision to avoid staging JFA-hosted competitions in July and August from 2025 in response to rising heat risk. The report also sets out nine priority themes beneath the five areas, giving the programme a clearer route from a generous ambition to recognisable activity.

That variety gives people more than one way into the programme. Sustainability does not have to begin with specialist vocabulary. It can begin with a safer summer schedule, a shared meal, a child’s first touch of a ball, a conversation about respect or a pitch that brings neighbours together.

A pass invites another pass

ASU-PASS! is still in the early part of the long future imagined at its launch. That is precisely why it is worth following. The framework can become more valuable each time an association, club, school or partner finds a practical way to use it and shares what happened next.

There is room for the programme to grow through simple, generous forms of exchange: practical guides that help local organisers begin, stories that show how one community adapted an idea, and regular reporting that lets participants recognise their work as part of something larger. The five areas provide a map; the people using football in their own places will give that map its detail.

Football is especially suited to this kind of invitation. A pass assumes that someone else is there. It travels, it asks for attention, and it keeps the move alive. ASU-PASS! takes that ordinary action and turns it into a hopeful civic idea: the future is something the football family can move towards together.


This article is part of What can football learn from Japan?, FootballGravity’s continuing series on ideas, communities and experiments in Japanese football.