My Problem With Fabrizio Romano

Fabrizio Romano’s reputation precedes him. 

He’s the modern-day football journalist. One whose social media output caters to current demands from football fans, offering regular, reliable news that needs very little explanation — 280 characters max. 

As a result, his following on Twitter eclipses those of Kylian Mbappe and Tottenham Hotspur, to name a few. His reach is unprecedented, garnering more traffic and engagement than most broadcasters, culminating in him becoming the arbiter for the footballing world regarding any news on transfer or contract negotiations. 

But what are the secrets to his success, the journey to becoming football’s most fabled journalist in history? 

Well, in his own words, his success largely started from the inroads he made into the footballing world. He admits in a blog sharing the ‘secrets to his success’: "I walked the streets of Milan looking to make contact with managers, presidents, and agents, respect was at the core of everything I did."

His rise attests that in football, it’s who you know, with what you know following soon after.

I’ll preface this by saying I have wholehearted respect for Romano, not that he’ll be reading this. His rise has been exponential, and full credit to him for building the foundations he has around him to be supported by the footballing world. 

But, there comes a point in his work where problems materialise, namely through the way some of his tweets derive from a place of personal interest rather than general. 

As most do, I find myself aimlessly scrolling through Twitter in my spare time, all that enters my screen rarely piquing my interest. Now and again, however, a tweet from Fabrizio will enter my screen. I’ll stop, take it in. After all, he’s usually spot on. 

More recently, though, tweets from Romano have centered around players who are getting younger and younger. I’m talking 14, 15, and 16, ages that to me feel like yesterday but are pushing over half a decade ago. 

These aren’t players any of us would have heard of, those who have limited to fans of that club, their family, or footballing hermits. It feels like with each day that passes, the more niche a player gets. Perhaps that’s my ignorance showing, but I feel as though there’s an ulterior motive to it. 

As Romano said, the inroads he’s made are the secrets to his success. As phonebooks go, I think only Yellow Pages could rival him when it comes to depth. That comes with benefits, namely financial, and while I’ll try to steer clear of outright accusations, it’s very hard to believe there’s no money to be made from agencies wanting to promote clients — and who better to call on than him?

His following, and subsequent reach, have the ability to impact a country’s worth of people’s perceptions regarding a player. In most of his tweets, usually, there’s a context to why he’s posting what he’s posting; a contract negotiation or potential transfer; something that has relevance to a specific club or country. 

However, more recently we’re seeing tweets come out that are merely stating a player’s information and recent statistics, but no outright mention of interest from certain clubs, arguably irrelevant for a platform like Romano’s.

Forgive me for surmising, but what I think we’re witnessing more or less presents itself as a ‘quid pro quo’ situation, which in some ways isn’t all that bad. At the end of the day, Romano has built up a fanbase that offers eyewatering opportunities to those who can work their way into it, which in turn presents him as a vehicle capable of sparking worldwide conversation. 

But it all seems a bit dystopian and makes me wonder whether the best interests of the player — long-term, that is — are really considered. 

Football’s an economy in itself nowadays, and players are commodities - stocks if you like — their prices fluctuate due to a range of variables: performance, personality, etc. As a result, from agents to fans, we all want to be the ones who eventually are proved right and later reap the monetary or intellectual rewards that follow. Our knowledge is determined by our ability in spotting the next big thing, and like an investment, you want to get in as early as you can. 

This shift represents the wider obsession — for better or worse — with professionalising the game in its infancy, with the star(s) of tomorrow becoming younger year by year. Not only is that damaging the infrastructure of football at the top, but also at its deepest roots. 

In England for example, we’re seeing a sharp decrease in the number of children participating in football, dropping by over 800,000 since 2016 (Statista, 2023). Numerous factors can contribute to this: lack of funding, pandemic impact, and a general drop in interest; but how can that be the case when football is arguably the most popular it's ever been? 

Well, that’s the thing.

A steeped interest in the upper echelons of football has channeled into the game at a base level, with more parents understandably hoping their child becomes the next big thing. That has, however, created a toxic culture that treats children’s football like adults; parents and coaches effing and blinding — and at times fighting — as if they’re in the stands when really they're on some muddy field at the local rec. 

Enjoying the game isn’t the priority anymore, winning is. It’s a sad state of affairs, one that has driven hundreds of thousands out of the game, and likely even more who were already on the outside. Now, this isn’t me blaming Fabrizio Romano for the demise of grassroots football, but I’m more alluding to what his current ongoings embody, a culture in our game where commercial interest diverts and pollutes the game at its core. 

Ultimately, football has become an elite, hierarchical structure across the board. We’re so intensely focused on what’s next, rather than what’s now, and year by year it's wearing the fabric of the game away. 

Through sharing 14, 15, and 16-year-olds — none of which are even close to the first team — Fabrizio is letting the expectations of a population’s worth of followers loose. Perhaps I’m being too cynical, but then again, how many times do we see young players written off before they’ve even had their chance?

There’s no space to let people make mistakes, especially at the top. Fabrizio Romano inadvertently pushing young talent to run before they can walk — while it could pay off for some — will largely detriment players and reaffirm a culture of devolving the professional benchmark of our beautiful game.