NOAH DAVIS – The scandal involving the voting process for the 2018/2022 World Cups continues to play out in the news. A Sunday Times sting caught FIFA executive committee members Amos Adamu of Nigeria and Reynald Temarii of Tahiti saying they would be willing to sell their votes, prompting soccer’s ruling organization to launch an investigation and hold a Wednesday afternoon press conference after the ethics committee meets. It’s an ugly situation, although no one with any familiarity in FIFA’s dealings can be too surprised. (Fanhouse’s Brian Strauss does an excellent job of showing the questionable principles of many ex-co members.)
But maybe, just maybe this entire ordeal could be a boon to the United States’ efforts to land the 2022.
(A quick aside: The fact that the Times journalists posed as American company owners hoping to bring the World Cup to the US is ultimately a minor detail in what’s turning into a much bigger affair. It’s a small PR hiccup and an inconvenient truth for the American bid committee, but one that will have little bearing on the results of the investigation or the eventual voting.)
On paper, the American bid is the strongest of the five 2022 suitors. US Bid Committee chairman David Downs knows this. US Soccer Federation head Sunil Gulati knows this. FIFA president Sepp Blatter knows this.
If the 24-person executive committee were a transparent body, the ’22 host would be America.
Of course, the ex-co is about as far from transparent as you can get. We’re talking about FIFA, an organization whose internal politics make the American political system look nice and clean. The voting process isn’t cut and dry; it’s a combination of hopes, dreams, backstabbing, and compromise. It is, in a word, ugly.
Downs hinted at this when he spoke with USA10Kit last month.
“It’s always a sobering notion to think that this isn’t just a business proposal that you negotiate a yes or a no to, but actually a vote,” he said. “That means it’s somewhat out of your control.”
When asked if it was possible to feel confident about how many votes he could count on, Downs basically said no.
“I don’t think there is a way to know,” the former head of Univision admitted. “Ultimately, the vote is not a publicly recorded vote. They’ll vote in secrecy and the votes won’t be made public. I’m not even sure the members know.”
“We will have discussions with people, and we will get a sense.”
A sense, obviously, is not the same thing as a guarantee. A voter could pledge to support one bid, but change his mind at the last minute. Or he could be speaking out of both sides of his mouth. Or, cynically, he could receive a better bribe.
But given the revelation of the past week, however, FIFA is going to have to be more transparent, at least temporarily. They won’t change permanently, and who knows how much they will even adjust for the voting on December 2 (assuming it happens as scheduled), but the process for the ’18/’22 World Cups will be under intense scrutiny. If there’s ever a time to expect FIFA and the ex-co members to play by the rules, it’s in the next six weeks.
In his office a month ago, Downs offered his thoughts on how FIFA determines who will hold the World Cup.
“Their slogan is ‘For the game and for the world,’ he said. “It matters to FIFA that their most prized possession – trusting some country with the staging of the World Cup – is done in a way that both furthers the game and furthers FIFA’s aims beyond the game. I really truly believe it matters to them. And I really truly believe that the 24 voting members are enfranchised in FIFA’s general health.”
His words were idealized, a utopian version of soccer’s governing body. They weren’t realistic at the time, and they won’t come to pass in the future. But when the votes are cast for the right to host the next two World Cups, the integrity of the process will be as close to intact as it ever will be.
That reality can only help the US bid.