Gonilo revolucij je gnev frustriranih, ponižanih in razžaljenih ljudskih množic, ki nimajo česa izgubiti. Ko prerastejo v momentum, te mase nič ne more zaustaviti. Problem bogataškega elitnega kluba večine najboljših evropskih klubov (razen nemških in francoskih), ki je hotel uprizoriti nogometno revolucijo, je bil predvsem v tem, da ni imel ne moralnega opravičila in ne ljudskih (navijaških) množic za seboj. Brez morale in brez vojske se je bogatška elita razletela, še preden se je uspela zares sestaviti. Zaustavila sta jih morala in ljudske množice na drugi strani. In zaustavila jih je odlična organizacija kontrarevolucije na strani krovne nogometne institucije (UEFA). Njen  predsednik Aleksander Čeferin je spretno zaigral na karto čustev in morale: “izdaja“, “niti s od solidarnosti” itd., kar je še podžgalo navijače. Istočasno pa je na ravni vseh nacionalnih zvez odigral blitzkrieg napad proti bogataškemu klubu z grožnjo po izključitvi iz vseh nacionalnih tekmovanj. Temu so se pridružili praktično vsi voditelji evropskih držav, razen našega predsednika vlade Janeza Janše. In bogataške revolucije je bilo konec, njeni protagonisti so kapitulirali eden za drugim, z repom med nogami pobegnili pred javnostjo ali se skesano priklonili navijačem.

Pri tej propadli bogataški revoluciji je morda najbolj zanimivo to, kako slabo je bila piarovsko vodena. Brez neke javno predstavljene zgodbe, brez perspektive, brez predstavitve koristi za javnost in navijače in brez kakršnegakoli odpora, ko je zgradba nove organizacije po dobrih 12 urah začela pokati. Katastrofalno slabo pripravljeno za projekt vreden 3,500 milijard evrov. In velika zmaga za Aleksandra Čeferina, ki se je ponovno izkazal za velikega stratega in operativca. Za razliko od našega predsednika vlade, ki se je ob katastrofalno slabem vodenju protiepidemijskih politik in vseh drugih katastrofalno napačnih notranje- in zunanjepolitičnih potezah ponovno odločil za napačno stran zgodovine. Gre za razliko med svetovljanskim menedžerjem z občutkom za realnost in provincialnim nesposobnim prepirljivcem.

Perhaps they did know. Perhaps they thought they could lose their fans and their peers and their former institutions and still ride it out. Perhaps what scuppered a project that has — for all the sophistry of Florentino Pérez, the two-day president of the 48-hour revolution — been years in the making was the fact they lost everyone else, too.

By Monday, less than a day into their brave new world, they had lost the governments, and they had lost the European Union. Not long after, they lost the television networks that, ultimately, would have had to pay for the whole thing.

Then they lost the players and the managers, the stars of the show they were hoping to sell around the globe so that they might grow fatter still on the profits: first Ander Herrera and James Milner and Pep Guardiola and Luke Shaw and then, in a matter of hours, dozens more, whole squads of players, breaking cover and coming out in opposition to the plan.

By Tuesday, there was scarcely anyone they had not lost. They had lost Eric Cantona. They had lost the royal family. They had lost national treasures. They had even lost the luxury watchmakers, and without the luxury watchmakers, there was nothing left to lose but themselves.

Europe’s new Super League, created only two days earlier, was dead.

Atlético Madrid had, quietly, been the first to blink, contacting UEFA on Tuesday morning to start to pick a way back. A few hours later, Chelsea followed, then Manchester City became the first to say so publicly. Pérez was supposed to be making a television appearance by then; he pulled out, reportedly because he was holding meetings with his fellow rebels.

If he had tried to persuade them to hold the line, it did not work. The remaining English contingent — Liverpool, Manchester United, Tottenham and Arsenal — released nearly simultaneous statements just before 11 p.m. in Britain, confirming they were no longer involved. Only one of them, Arsenal, actually thought to apologize. Inter Milan bowed out soon after.

An hour or so later, officials were confirming that the project was dead in the water. Pérez, on Spanish television Monday night, had fretted that young people did not have the attention span for soccer anymore. His solution to that problem, it turned out, had a half-life so brief a goldfish might have followed it.

But it was not only how quickly it all dissipated — Sunday’s future of soccer did not even make it to Wednesday — but how easily those who had designed it and signed on to it seemed to capitulate. It is not just that they lost the fans, the leagues, the broadcasters and the sponsors. It is that at no point did they seem interested in even trying to win them over.

Vir: Rory Smith, New York Times