From the FA to UEFA and FIFA, there's a naivety, a lack of

"From the FA to UEFA and FIFA, there's a naivety, a lack of knowledge and understanding and packed with people who are out of touch." Thus spoke George Best, the brilliant son of Belfast, whose feet once danced upon the fields of Europe, whose genius with the ball made him a legend. Yet his words here are not about the game itself, but about those who govern it. He, who had walked both the glory and the hardship of football, saw clearly that the halls of power were often filled not with wisdom, but with naivety, not with vision, but with ignorance, not with love for the game, but with distance from its true spirit.

The meaning of his words is sharp. The FA, UEFA, and FIFA—institutions meant to guard, guide, and grow the sport—had, in Best’s eyes, lost their connection with the players, the fans, and the heart of football itself. To be out of touch is to rule from above without understanding the struggles below. To lack knowledge and understanding is to misguide millions with decisions divorced from the reality of the pitch, where sweat, sacrifice, and passion dwell. Thus, Best condemns not merely individuals, but a culture of leadership that forgets the people it was made to serve.

History itself offers many mirrors of such failures. Consider the fall of the Roman Senate in its later years. Once the guardian of the Republic, it became filled with men of privilege, disconnected from the cries of common citizens and the realities of the legions who bled on the frontiers. Their naivety, their detachment, led to corruption, misrule, and collapse. So too, Best warns, can any institution fall when its leaders live far from the truth of those they govern.

There are also lessons closer to the sport itself. When nations or clubs elevate officials more interested in politics than in the game, the result is discontent. Fans are ignored, players are exploited, and the purity of sport is clouded. We saw this echoed in modern controversies—decisions about tournaments, locations, and money that placed profit above passion, spectacle above spirit. Best’s lament stands as a timeless cry: leaders must remain connected to the soul of what they govern.

Yet his words are not only condemnation—they are also a call. He reminds us that knowledge and understanding must be the foundation of leadership. The one who guides must not be distant, but present. The one who governs must not be blinded by wealth or position, but must listen to the cries of the players, the wisdom of the coaches, and the voices of the fans. Without this connection, any leader, whether in sport or life, becomes hollow, and the house they build will crumble.

The lesson is clear: in every realm—whether football, politics, or community—beware the danger of being out of touch. True leadership is not ivory-towered; it is grounded, informed, humble, and close to those it serves. The great leader does not only command but listens, does not only decide but understands, does not only hold office but carries responsibility like a sacred trust.

Practical action follows. If you hold authority, seek to learn continuously from those below you. Walk among your people, listen to their struggles, learn their needs. If you follow, hold your leaders accountable, demanding that they act not with naivety, but with wisdom, not with arrogance, but with compassion. And in your own life, never let distance grow between yourself and those you serve—whether family, friends, or community.

So I say to you, children of tomorrow: remember the warning of George Best. Institutions may rise, but they rot when filled with the blind, the detached, the arrogant. Stay close to truth, close to people, close to the heart of what you serve. For only then will your leadership endure—not as a throne above the people, but as a torch that lights the way for all.