They took it in turns to sit on the stage behind the microphones and rail against the system, the schedule they feel is pushing them towards injury, exhaustion and burnout.

First the Liverpool goalkeeper Alisson Becker, in Milan, and then the Manchester City midfielder Rodri, at his home stadium. It felt as though it was a little pre-planned. Maybe it was. It doesn’t really matter.

What was a little ironic was the setting. As they sat at official press conferences before the first games of an expanded and bloated Champions League season, the manifestations of modern football’s ugly, obsessive and self-defeating lust for money were all around them.

Behind them the names of the tournament sponsors were plastered on the hoardings. In front of them on the table were bottles of one of those awful energy drinks. Not for drinking, you understand. But to satisfy yet another commercial obligation to a UEFA partner.

Inside the San Siro before kick-off, meanwhile, Alisson didn’t seem to notice Amazon’s Gabby Logan and Clarence Seedorf broadcasting just a yard or so from the dressing room door. I wonder how much Amazon paid for that dubious new privilege. Whatever it was, it was too much. It was a lamentable and utterly uninformative piece of television.

And this is what it’s about. The whole debate about a fixture schedule that threatens to explode like a balloon is really about the money and only the money and the thirst for money and the pursuit of even more money. It’s the money from Gatorade and Qatar Airways and Walkers crisps and Bet365 and FedEx and Just Eat and Heineken and all the rest.

As Alisson sat and called for a conversation about the schedule and Rodri threatened to strike, all around them were festooned the reasons why nothing will ever change. To make a clumsy comparison, it was the equivalent of talking about the dangers of traffic pollution while sitting in the fast lane of a motorway.

I have sympathy for the players because they are right. An article on the ESPN website revealed recently that Jude Bellingham had clocked up 18,837 career minutes by his 21st birthday. That’s almost five times more than David Beckham had. If City reach the final of the Club World Cup in America next summer, meanwhile, their centre forward Erling Haaland will have been playing for 354 days straight.

So the dangers are clear and real but what we hear from the players right now is just empty and futile noise. What’s more, it’s aimed at the wrong people.

Alisson and Rodri spoke eloquently on the matter. Others have previously. They are not stupid, these lads. They know what their bodies are telling them.

But rather than make hollow threats about strike action and the rest, they would be better off walking off those press conference podiums and seeking out their owners, coaches and chief executives. This is an issue that should be dropped firmly on their toes.

Ask them why they pushed to be part of a European Super League and, when that failed, agreed to a revamped Champions League schedule that already feels pointless and onerous. 

Ask them why they have said ‘yes’ to the Club World Cup and why pre-season tours grow longer and more demanding. Then ask their national associations why they have signed up for a five week World Cup in 2026.

Because this is where the power is. This is where the answers lie. We know that in an age of restrictive spending rules across Europe every penny counts. We know that means there is a delicate balance to be struck between getting the most out of players and potentially ruining them and, by extension, fatally harming the whole product.

But the truth is that our big football clubs make no attempt currently to strike that balance. They say they do, but they don’t. They nod and listen while at the same time signing the contracts.

Coaches and managers talk about wanting to play fewer games but it’s disingenuous. What they mean is they wish to play fewer of the games we may wish them to play – such as the Carabao Cup and FA Cup replays – and more of the games that they wish to play, namely the ones that make them all the money.

And so here we are, stuck at an impasse, tethered to a road signposted harm. The players and the unions are worried but they are the only ones. Their clubs are not, not really. Not while they remain in the thrall of the beer sponsorships and the airlines and the sickly red energy drinks.

The players can talk if they like but currently they are addressing the wrong audience. As it stands, they are never going to be heard above the noise of the traffic.

QPR's goalmouth scramble 

Some advice. Have a look at QPR’s injury time equaliser at Sheffield Wednesday from last weekend. Then watch it again from all the different angles available. 

And, if possible, watch the one someone has posted on X to the tune of the Benny Hill music. You will be chuckling all the way to work.

A tribute to Toto 

It was the summer of 1990 and I was doing six weeks of work experience at the Newcastle Journal. The World Cup was on so as I fell in love with journalism, the world fell in love with Toto Schillaci.

He died this week at the age of 59 but to us the Italian striker will be forever young, wide-eyed and intoxicated by goals and overnight fame.

The beauty of it all back then was that nobody outside of Italy had ever heard of him. Our lads played over here and theirs played over there. It was the way it was.

Now it’s different. Nobody is a secret anymore. These days Toto Schillaci would be playing for Tottenham.

Mourinho's clever corners 

Amid the chatter about Tottenham’s struggles to defend in crowded penalty areas, an old friend reminded me of a tactic employed by Jose Mourinho in his first stint at Chelsea.

When defending a corner, leave three of your own players on the halfway line. This forces the attacking team to deploy four of their own to cover a breakaway.

At a stroke the penalty area becomes more manageable. He was a clever bloke, once, Mourinho.

We must keep punishing dissent towards officials 

At Molineux last Sunday, Wolves deployed two men at a short corner and managed to leave one of them in an offside position on the byline. I am not sure I have ever seen anything like it.

In the technical area 50 yards away Wolves manager Gary O’Neill complained vociferously to the fourth official. About what? How could he possibly see what had happened?

What this shows is that much of the dissent that comes the way of our officials is utterly without reason. It’s spontaneous and unfathomable, a deeply engrained knee-jerk reaction to disappointment.

So the only way to fight it is to keep punishing it. Eventually, over time, the natural response will be to take a deep breath and pause.

Until then if we get 65 yellow cards on a Premier League weekend – with a chunk of them for back chat and abuse – like we did last time out then so be it. Referees should not be criticised, not for this part of it. They should be encouraged to carry on until it stops. Because one day it just will.