Expensive TV commercials promote the image of football as the classless beautiful game. "Eat football, sleep football, drink Coca-Cola," says one. Another, by Nike, and the most exhilarating, shows members of the Brazilian national squad exhibiting their skills in an airport lounge.

The reality is somewhat shabbier. A week ago Freddie Shepherd and Douglas Hall were rightly obliged to resign from the board of Newcastle United following the publication of their views of local women, United supporters, and the rip-off we all know as merchandising.

On Saturday the fans of valiant Barnsley, hitherto without serious blemish, were driven demented by the decisions of a referee, while at Gillingham a long-running feud between local supporters and those of Fulham resulted in the death of 24-year-old Matthew Fox. On top of all this the independent Government Task Force headed by David Mellor publishes a report about the existence of racism in the game.

Closer to home, a few weeks ago Bradford City were fined £25,000 for an on-the-pitch brawl at Valley Parade, and last week the chairman Geoffrey Richmond let rip on the subject of players' wage demands after club captain Eddie Youds reportedly rejected a weekly pay rise in the region of £900.

This week speculation about the future of Alan Shearer is rife, with one newspaper suggesting a possible £20m move to Manchester United. As a lifelong United fan, I'd feel uneasy if United signed anyone for that sort of money; transfer fees and players wages have got out of hand thanks to the influx of cash from TV which has made Premier League clubs immeasurably richer.

Some good things have flowed from this, not least the import of marvellous foreign players whose skills have enriched our domestic game and, hopefully, led to a less parochial outlook. Stadia have been improved, and new ones built.

The position of the ordinary supporter and the players, however, appears to have changed for the worse. Top players now enjoy rock star salaries and few fans can identify with them any more.

This is a British phenomenon. During the boom years of the 1950s and 1960s, when big clubs regularly attracted crowds in excess of 60,000, top players were paid peanuts - more than the average wage but still peanuts compared to what European stars earned.

While that was bad for players, they were worshipped by fans not for their wealth but for their skill. Fans accepted the demarcation laid down by talent more easily than they can accept today's fantastical wage differentials plus the sheer cost of watching football.

The beautiful game now belongs to the movers of money. Fans jealously hang on to tribal identities as a way of maintaining their emotional ownership. At times, as at Gillingham, this gets out of control. Sometimes, as at Barnsley, behaviour by officials becomes intolerable.

In this hi-tech age, which even conservative cricket has embraced, it is ridiculous that events which determine the outcome of a match cannot be checked before a referee makes his decision. Football has not grown up in this respect and preserves the Gentleman/Player dichotomy between players and officials which used to characterise cricket.

Many of the game's apparent improvements are only cosmetic. Underneath, outdated class attitudes still prevail.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.