Let me preface this by saying that I like and support the changes announced this week to future editions of the AFC Champions League Elite.
A move from 24 to 32 teams makes sense, it adds more jeopardy for the teams – something that was sorely lacking with just 24 – and will provide extra drama in the form of the Knockout Stage Playoff.
While there are still important details to be confirmed, such as how the additional eight slots will be distributed, largely speaking the reforms are positive for the tournament and the backlash to the announcement, in my eyes, has been bewildering.
Yes, some of this could and should have been obvious when AFC made their major reforms back in 2022, but it’s better to change a bad decision quickly than stubbornly hold the line for the sake of stability.
It’s also important to note that the most recent reforms to the AFC club competitions were formally announced on 23 December 2022.
The reforms had been worked on for months and years leading up to that announcement, but that date is important because just one week later the landscape of Asian football changed forever when Al Nassr announced it had signed Cristiano Ronaldo.
It was a signing few had seen coming, and even fewer could have predicted the changes that would sweep through Saudi football over the following three years, and the flow on effects for Asian football as a result.
The tournament is now a very different beast and it stands to reason that the AFC would look to capitalise on that growth with the addition of more big teams and more matches between those big teams. That should only add to the quality of the tournament.
But – and it’s a very big but – the centralised Finals format simply has to go.
We’re not yet through the second edition of the centralised format, but it is hard to see how it could be argued to be for the betterment of the tournament and Asian football.
Just last night Al Sadd and Vissel Kobe played out what should be considered a modern-day AFC Champions League classic.
Racing to a 3-1 lead, Al Sadd, who just 72 hours earlier produced a stunning upset to knockout Saudi giants Al Hilal after a six-goal classic of their own, looked to be home and hosed, with one foot in what would be their first continental semi-final since 2019.
Vissel Kobe, however, had other ideas and masterminded an epic comeback that was sealed when Yoshinori Muto headed home to make it 3-3 with what turned out to be the last touch of the game, forcing the game into extra-time.
While logic dictated that Kobe should be the fresher of the two teams, given the Qatari champions had just come through 120 minutes three days prior, it was Roberto Mancini’s side that had the best of the chances, forcing three outstanding saves from Daiya Maekawa.
Facing their second penalty shootout in a matter of days, where luck was on their side against Al Hilal, it deserted them against Kobe; Meshaal Barsham getting his hands on Yuya Osako’s penalty, but not enough to keep it out, while Claudinho skied his effort to seal their fate.
It had all the ingredients you’d want from a continental quarter-final; two top clubs featuring elite talent, the likes of Akram Afif, Roberto Firmino, Yuya Osako and Yoshinori Muto, playing end-to-end attacking football (there were six goals and 47 shots in total) in a high stakes encounter.
All the ingredients, that is, except for one: a crowd.
While the Finals format shines when the big Saudi clubs play, providing a backdrop worthy of this stage of a continental competition, it is exposed when the games are played between two neutral teams.
Played at Jeddah’s 27,000-capacity Prince Abdullah Al Faisal Sports City Stadium, the match between a club from Qatar and a club from Japan attracted a paltry attendance of little more than 1000 – and from watching the game, even that seems optimistic.
Just a few days earlier, when Iran’s Tractor played the UAE’s Shabab Al Ahli in their rescheduled Round of 16 fixture, an embarrassing total of just 175 fans turned up.
Already there are fears for what crowd will show up to Saturday’s quarter-final between Shabab Al Ahli and Thailand’s Buriram United.
And what happens, heaven forbid, if the two remaining Saudi clubs bomb out before the Final and we’re left with two neutral teams in the biggest fixture on the Asian football calendar?
Is this the backdrop and are these the images we want sent around the world to showcase the pinnacle of Asian club football? It’s a self-inflicted wound if ever there was one, a throwback to the ugly days of the COVID enforced hubs.
At least on those occasions the AFC’s hand was forced and there was an understanding that it had to be that way. But if those experiences taught us anything, it should’ve been how important fans and the atmosphere are to the occasion.
Every football fan knows the spectacle of a match on-the-pitch is enhanced by a raucous atmosphere off of it.
Each one of these fixtures would’ve been played in front of a full house, or near enough to it, had they been played at each club’s respective home ground in the old home and away format.
At a time when the AFC is trying to grow its flagship product, to engage with fans across the continent and encourage them to support the tournament in growing numbers, it is incredulous that you would deny those same fans the opportunity to see their team in person in the biggest games of all.
The AFC deserves credit for showing flexibility in changing the tournament when it was obvious the 24-team format wasn’t achieving the desired results. It now must admit defeat for the centralised Finals format.
Innovation should always be encouraged, and while for some of us this was obvious from the start, the concept in and of itself to create a showpiece week for Asian football isn’t a bad one, but in a continent as vast as Asia, where travel remains prohibitive, it is one that simply doesn’t work, and we now have all the proof we need.
