IT SEEMS ridiculous talking about the impact of the global credit crunch on the world of football when the only real issue is just how it affects the average Joe on a day to day basis.

Hearing football chaps in suits blustering about how the crisis will affect the future of the game is trite at best and grossly insensitive at worst, when you consider that what we’re talking about used to be merely a weekend distraction. Especially when compared to, say, real people losing their livelihood and home in one fell swoop.

Still, it’s in the news, so let’s talk about it like it’s important for a moment. Apparently the greatest danger to the European Rich Kids’ love-in started at the door of an American company called Countrywide, who lent cash to a lot of our stateside cousins who couldn’t afford to pay it back, and then promptly imploded.

As a result, I’m sure you’re all aware, the roof quickly began to collapse on financial institutions around the world. And as they’re the kind of people who have a direct effect on the wealth of the people who now effectively run the game, the clowns in charge of the whole show are spending a great deal of time at chin stroking sessions drinking strong coffee and looking vaguely concerned.

Over the past few days, there has been rehashed talk of introducing salary caps on players who, at the top end of the market at least, probably only need to “work” for a year of their life to become set up for the rest of it.

Quite how you can put legal impositions on how much a company decides to shell out on its assets is beyond me, and I’m sure there are plenty of incentive schemes that the current top payers could come up with to get around it anyway.

Another suggestion is that the clubs who are vastly indebted will be banned from European competition until they sort out their finances. Which, let’s be honest, will probably only plunge the game into deeper financial crisis since the telly-watching public are less likely to tune in to watch Copenhagen Unbridled vs Minsk Fibre Optics than United playing at Milan. And if people stop watching, the precious sponsorship deals dry up. And as money is now the God of Football, no-one is going to let that happen.

Therein lies the rub. All the moralistic chat about increasing competition and stabilising finance within the game counts for nothing when you consider that the competitions that people watch are all geared financially to ensuring that the status quo remains undisturbed.

For further proof, witness the Champions of both Belgium and the Ukraine kicking the ball around in the UEFA Cup this year, while the fourth best sides in England get to play in the Champions League. Although that’s another argument.

All of this lends an air of credence and seriousness to what is, essentially, just a game. It’s become a self fulfilling prophecy. Anyone with an ounce of sense could see this situation has been on the horizon for years. True, it’s easy to be wise after the event.

But if clubs spend more than they make, and they borrow against future earnings, then there’s going to come a time when there is nothing left of value and nothing against which to secure loans. And guess what? This cash ain’t free! Apparently you have to pay it back. Doesn’t life suck? It’s sickening that the game has been stripped down to this most base of levels. People used to watch football because it was an escape. No matter what was going on in your life, Saturday was a focal point. Something to look forward to.

Nowadays, it just resembles a bloated carcass, and it’s not really surprising. And for as long as fans talk of billionaire owners as if they’re more important than any given 90 minutes, it will remain thus.