A Cup without a Commonwealth
In the 13th year of its existence the soccer tournament has become redundantThe history of these competitions can be instructive for both athletes and politicians. The organizers of the Commonwealth Cup of soccer, held in Moscow since January 1993, saw this tournament as a continuation of the “all-Union” competitions that sank into oblivion together with the Soviet Union. The idea of a soccer competition for champions of the former Soviet republics made it easy to find generous sponsors, who provided the participants with comfortable accommodations, rented the best stadiums in the Russian capital, and created a handsome prize purse for winners.
However, the tournament appeared to be stillborn from the very first day, mainly because of the game dates. Traditionally, our soccer players are not in the best shape in the second half of January. There was also little interest among sport buffs. While the main principle of Soviet-era soccer championships was that a team had to force its way from a lower division to a higher one, participation in the Commonwealth Cup was guaranteed to a team of any level as long as it represented a certain state, e.g., Kirghizstan.
I happened to watch one of these tournaments three years ago. The practically empty grandstands of the mammoth sport complex Olimpiysky looked out on mediocre teams from Uzbekistan, Azerbaijan, and Estonia, virtually unknown outside their countries. If the organizers set the goal of triggering nostalgia over USSR championships, they succeeded one hundred percent. Only one match drew audiences — the final match between Spartak Moscow and Dynamo Kyiv. Besides this game, nothing else was interesting.
On and below the grandstands you could see once famous Moscow players and coaches hugging and offering glasses of wine to their old friends, who had come to Moscow for this tournament from the former Soviet republics. In the VIP box were heads of the soccer federations from these same republics, who were discussing something with the “timeless” top-ranking executive of Russian soccer, Vyacheslav Koloskov, who has been managing soccer since the days of Brezhnev.
That’s the whole picture. Jozsef Szabo was the first one to point out in the mid-1990s, when he was managing Dynamo Kyiv, that the Commonwealth Cup served no purpose. The coach was loath to disturb the program of his team’s training for some dubious political purposes. Then Dynamo gave up and began going to Moscow.
The Commonwealth Cup has been without sponsors for the last three years. Russian television companies have refused to broadcast the tournament’s matches, which were moved from the gorgeous Olimpiysky Stadium to run-down arenas with substandard pitches. The tournament looked as though it were going to die a natural death, while fulfilling or, to be more exact, not fulfilling the designated task. Despite Mr. Koloskov’s efforts, soccer is developing on the ex-Soviet territory at odds with his scenario. Moscow never managed to become the capital of post-Soviet soccer. The latest tournament, when the champion of Georgia outplayed the Latvian team in the final match, was a complete flop and failed to stir up the slightest public interest.
Yet the tournament is still around. The champions of Ukraine, who were immediately allowed to play in the semifinals (as long as they show up) in fact send their third-string teams to Moscow, thus demonstrating their attitude to the practically defunct soccer “commonwealth.” Word has it that none other than FIFA President Josef Blatter has decided to save the tournament. How is he going to do this? Didn’t he just say that to be a polite guest who is being hospitably received in Moscow? As it so often happens, life itself provides solutions. Concurrently with the Commonwealth Cup, Moscow is hosting the Granatkin Tournament for players under 18, named after the top all-Union soccer head. No obvious “weaklings” are invited to this tournament out of “political” considerations. Passions are running high and new stars are emerging under the watchful eye of coaches from other countries besides Russia and Ukraine. Maybe it would be a good idea to leave the true champions alone and bestow the honor of maintaining friendship between the former Soviet republics on junior players?
