... Y SI Max Mosley dirigiera la FIFA

What if Max Mosley ran football....

Zurich, June 2012.

Max Mosley leaves his third floor office and enters the boardroom for his first meeting since becoming president of FIFA, maybe a touch of nerves but he knows what must be done and he is well prepared. After a few introductions and idle chatter over coffee and HobNobs Max dives straight in, he seems keen to make an impression.

He stands at the front of the room and begins a Powerpoint presentation, a few startled faces, maybe a few groans, this is FIFA after all, they usually use a slide projector for these things. Images begin to flash before them, Wembley stadium, 1966, England versus Germany, black and white photographs, tackles...passes...goals. A photograph of the clock tells us that it is extra time and then the final image 'flies from right' and into view... Geoff Hursts 101st minute goal, frozen in time, and certainly not over the line, nowhere near.

"No goal" exclaims Max, "I have had the boys working over this all week and we can say with 100% certainty that this was not a goal".

Max takes a deep breath, everyone else looks on in bemusement, some even wake up.

"We have decided to award the 1966 World Cup to Germany", Max looks pleased with himself now, like the cat who got the cream.

"What about England?" a rather startled and small man says from the back of the room.

"England are disqualified, we have decided that it was Portugal who lost to Germany in the final. The FA have been informed, Bobby Charlton is on his way here now to return the trophy."

Stunned silence.

"Geoff Hurst lied to everybody and he will be punished, we have decided to ban him for 3 years and of course we will be getting all the medals returned".

Everybody is awake now though only the small man is willing to speak up. "We can't do that, what about the fans? what about the sport?, how can we just decide to change a result after the event is finished?"

Max is taken aback by this, he seems shocked that this is not going down too well. "Fans? What are you talking about man? We are not doing this for the fans, this is serious business, I will not tolerate rules being broken, especially from a bunch of upstarts who dare to beat Germany by cheating. What in God's name have the fans got to do with anything? This is nothing to do with sport. I don't care how long people have to wait for, the truth will come out eventually, it always does."

The small man nervously looks around, everyone seems keen to avoid eye contact. "We will not let you, we can vote this down".

Max smiles, "You never got the memo it seems, oh dear. We don't run the football anymore, the decision has already been made by the new owner. I have managed to rid us of the tiresome burden of actually having to run a sport. No, I have sold the football off and now we are just in charge of handing out the punishment."

Max is finished, he winks, turns and heads for the door.

"Right, come on, let's get cracking. Much to do yet, somebody get me Diego Maradona on the phone".

(extraido del Times)