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The Guardian - UK
The Guardian - UK
Sport
Barry Glendenning

Ivan Toney can feel aggrieved amid football’s wider gambling problem

Ivan Toney, wearing a shirt emblazoned with the logo of a betting firm, on a pitch surrounded by gambling ads.
Ivan Toney, wearing a shirt emblazoned with the logo of a betting firm, on a pitch surrounded by gambling ads. Photograph: Nigel French/PA

BET! BET! (don’t bet) BET!

Some years ago, when a sharp-dressed Italian football aficionado with a penchant for pink newspapers and large ice-creams left a certain football podcast and was replaced by a clarinet-playing liberal snowflake with a penchant for borrowing the kitchen appliances of superstar DJs, you could still get half-decent odds from a major bookie on the new presenter getting the job after he had accepted it but before the news was made public. The few of us “in the know” found ourselves suffering a dilemma. Specifically, on what would we spend all our winnings?

Actually that’s not true: such was our terror at the prospect of getting a 25-year stretch in the Big House, we refrained from availing ourselves of what amounted to free money, although one devil-may-care friend of Football Daily who attempted to get £50 on was eventually allowed to bet about a tenner. Given the niche nature of the market, he subsequently had to spend countless hours shouting “RUSHDEN! FOOTBALL WEEKLY! IT’S A PODCAST!” down the phone in order to get paid winnings that weren’t even close to being worth all his time and effort.

While it turns out that despite our cowardice we could have bet on AC Jimbo’s successor without fear of repercussions, the rules regarding gambling are far more clear in the case of Ivan Toney. Put simply, professional footballers are forbidden from gambling on their own sport, no matter where it is being played. And while there is no suggestion that the Brentford and England striker was trying to manipulate results or using insider knowledge to give himself some sort of edge, his plea of guilty to 232 breaches of the rules means he can have no complaints about being punished. Toney is, however, entitled to feel aggrieved about the severity of the eight-month ban he has received.

Toney plays for a football club that is owned by a man who made his money out of gambling, while wearing a shirt emblazoned with the logo of a betting firm, on pitches surrounded by advertising hoardings exhorting those who see them to bet on football. He made his name in a league sponsored by another gambling firm and his goals are broadcast on TV and radio stations who pocket millions from unscrupulous firms whose raison d’etre, despite their bland assurances to the contrary, is to relieve often vulnerable punters of as much of their income as possible.

While the rule that Toney is not allowed to gamble on football could scarcely be more clear, it hardly seems surprising that somebody whose profession means he is subjected to a constant barrage of sledgehammer-subtle advertising by assorted bookies might be tempted to dabble in an area where he might feel he has considerable expertise. For the FA to then clutch their pearls and come down on him like the proverbial ton of bricks – while showing little inclination to rid their sport of this malign and pernicious influence – smacks of double standards from an organisation whose priorities are preposterously skewed.

Reaction to Toney’s ban has been predictably mixed, with some saying it is too long while those of a more sanctimonious bent claim it is nowhere near lengthy enough. Others, who presumably don’t know Toney or anything much about the bets he placed, have suggested he clearly has a problem, and needs help rather than punishment. While these folk may be well-meaning, an average of five bets a month over four years is hardly troubling, but we’re not going to presume to know what Toney gets up to in his spare time.

Football Daily admires Toney, hopes he is OK and will be delighted if he returns from this undeniable career setback firing on all cylinders and banging in more goals. But if we had one bit of unsolicited (and almost certainly unwanted) advice to offer the 27-year-old, it would be to stop betting on football and instead get his money on the beleaguered This Morning host, Philip Schofield, and his former sidekick Gordon The Gopher to be the next hosts of the Guardian’s Football Weekly ... not that we’re claiming to be in the loop.

LIVE ON BIG WEBSITE

It’s a big night of Premier League, Big Vase and Tin Pot action. Join Will Unwin for Newcastle 1-1 Brighton (7.30pm, all times BST), while Michael Butler guides you through AZ 2-1 West Ham (3-3 on agg, 4-5 on pens) and all the other European action in a big Thursday night clockwatch (8pm).

SKY BLUE THINKING

Manchester City’s Big Cup victory over Real Madrid was less a rout, more a bloodless coup d’etat. There is still time for one last bout of City-itis in Istanbul against Inter, but you could feel the balance of power shifting with every twitch of Carlo Ancelotti’s eyebrow. One Spanish football show was so stunned, they opened with almost three minutes of Real legend Guti looking forlorn. Marca, meanwhile, praised the raucous atmosphere at the Etihad: “a boiler that has nothing to envy [next to] Old Trafford. The difference is that all their lives, City lost, and now they win.”

Manchester City fans do the Poznan as Real Madrid are put to the sword.
Manchester City fans do the Poznan as Real Madrid are put to the sword. Photograph: Tom Jenkins/The Guardian

That phrase might ring true with another set of City fans celebrating last night, after Coventry edged past Middlesbrough to book a Championship playoff final against Luton. Both sides have tussled with City for top-flight survival way back when (who could forget David Pleat’s soft-shoe shuffle), and Coventry went down with Manchester City in 2001. Since then, the three teams’ paths have diverged beyond what anyone would have thought possible.

Coventry have faced exile from their home city and repeatedly staved off extinction, while Luton dropped as low as the fifth tier – but their fates briefly aligned again on Wednesday, and one of the two plucky promotion-chasers will bag a trip to the Etihad next season. If it proves to be Mark Robins’ side, then with Napoli already winning Serie A, this will be an unbeatable season for teams in sky blue.

FOOTBALL DAILY LETTERS

Re: yesterday’s Football Daily. My grandfather, William Horn, owned an important hat factory in Luton but it was my grandmother who took me to games from the age of about six or seven (I was born in 1940). I was allowed to enter free. Various players represented England on a few occasions, Sid Owen and Ron Baynham come to mind. I graduated to standing on the terraces at about 11, which did wonders for my playground vocabulary. At some point, possibly 1947-48, we defeated a rampant Portsmouth side that was a power in Division One. Blackpool were my heroes and the greatest thrill was watching a cup replay at Kenilworth Road, Matthews and Mortensen running in thick mud with a ball that must have weighed a ton. Excuse the reminiscences, but it’s your fault for mentioning the Hatters” – Michael Gilsenan.

Real get annihilated 4-0 by City, while Everton dig in and hold them to 3-0. Don Carlo never realised which side his bread was buttered on – Neil Bage.

If Manchester City win the Champions League final 5-1, will the match be known as the InterCity 125? – Richard Hirst.

Send your letters to the.boss@theguardian.com. Today’s winner of our letter o’ the day is … Michael Gilsenan, who also lands a copy of Nige Tassell’s new book, Field of Dreams: 100 Years of Wembley in 100 Matches. We’ve one more to give away on Friday, so get typing.

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