Strike it rich Footballers must find a moral compass before embarking on a journey of unity

IT he distant strains of The Internationale can be heard on the approach to the Etihad Stadium.

Outside, partially obscured by banners and placards, Rodri and Erling Haaland are in high-vis jackets, gathering around a smouldering brazier for warmth. Locals arrive every few minutes bearing trays of hot tea and buttered scones. Passing motorists parp their horns in solidarity. A chant goes up. "What do we want?" There is no reply for several seconds. Then a thin voice from the back of the huddle pipes up. "Um... maybe get rid of the Carabao Cup?"

Alas, this is where we must truncate our surreal vision of a footballing picket line. Sorry, folks: for all the suggestive headlines and bullish invective, this isn't going to happen. Partly because the threat of strike action and actual strike action are radically different phenomena. Partly because any industrial action would almost certainly face a fearsome battery of legal challenges from competition organisers, sponsors and broadcasters. But mostly because a strike requires three basic conditions: the means by which to organise and unite; a common, mass-appeal cause; and a sense of urgency. And on this scorecard, the Champions League footballers demanding less football are - by the most generous estimate - 0.5 out of three.