The curse of the keeper: underpaid, and misunderstood

“If Arsene Wenger’s so clever,” a senior international manager once asked, “why does he never buy a proper goalkeeper?” Years later, the question remains valid. Arsenal manager Wenger, a perfectionist when recruiting for other positions, has still not filled that one spot. He doesn’t seem happy with his present keeper, Manuel Almunia. Wenger has bid about £2m for Fulham’s Mark Schwarzer, but Fulham rightly consider that miserly.

And so Arsenal enter another season without an ideal keeper. Crucially, though, this is not just Wenger’s blind spot. Most managers undervalue goalkeepers. It’s one of the main irrationalities of the market in footballers. When sports economist Bernd Frick studied salaries in Germany’s Bundesliga, he found that keepers earned less than outfield players, despite mostly being older. They also command lower transfer fees: the British record being a mere £9m, paid by Sunderland for Craig Gordon in 2007.

The main problem is managerial ignorance. Some managers understand football, but keeping is something else entirely: it seems as foreign a craft as flower-arranging. And because they barely understand what keepers do, they are reluctant to pay much for them.

Some managers, moreover, don’t seem to care much. Playing great football preoccupies men like Wenger. To him the keeper is just the bloke who (sometimes) stops balls. Bayern Munich manager Louis van Gaal, another connoisseur of passing football, appears to treat the keeper’s job at his club as an afterthought. Johan Cruyff, when manager of Barcelona, even wrestled with the idea of putting gloves on a defender, and sticking him in goal. That way Barca could field 11 footballers. Cruyff’s subordinates eventually talked him out of it.

It also baffles managers that an expensive keeper’s reputation can be sunk in an afternoon. That happened to Massimo Taibi, the promising keeper Manchester United signed from Venezia in 1999. A couple of blunders quickly earned him the harsh but inspired nickname of The Blind Venetian. United sold him after just four games.

Almost all players make mistakes while adjusting to a new club. It’s just that a keeper’s mistakes lose matches. Yet the fact that keepers matter so much is precisely a reason to spend heavily on them. That, plus the fact that they last longer than outfield players: Real Madrid might get 20 years from Iker Casillas. Yet managers with less able men in goal don’t trust themselves to buy the right replacement, and stick with the devil they know – as Wenger has with Almunia.

The obvious solution would be to farm out the decision to experts. Keepers’ coaches presumably know who the best keepers are. But they are so low in a club’s hierarchy – down with the bus driver – that no manager will spend £10m on his say-so. Managers could use the wisdom of crowds – ask 10 former keepers who to sign – but managers tend to see themselves as the Messiah, until they are sacked. They rarely consult.

Wenger and Ferguson have been groping towards a solution. Initially Wenger, in particular, bought keepers much as he bought outfield players: he went for budding talent. But too many of these talents failed him. Then, in 2005, Ferguson found another solution: he signed the 34-year-old Edwin van der Sar, who remains United’s keeper today. He proved the adage: old keepers don’t die, they just keep getting better.

Joop Hiele, Van der Sar’s former keeping coach, once explained why: “Goalkeeping is registering the situation, recognising it and finding the solution. The more often you do it, the easier it gets.” An older keeper is so familiar with the structure of attacks that he has time to organise his defence. Younger keepers can’t. That’s why Wenger pursued the 37-year-old Schwarzer. However, he apparently hasn’t pursued him with enough vigour to land him. Over time, Wenger’s blind spot has probably cost him some of his ambitions. At least he’s in excellent company.