The modern game has gone completely soft. When a group of club presidents tried to oust Djibouti FA president Souleiman Waberi, he didn't write a whining press release—he locked down the building with state security forces.
I have been saying for years that this sport has a problem with soft leadership. Everywhere you look, executives are folding at the first sign of adversity. A few poor results, a little grumbling from the base, a suddenly convened extraordinary general assembly, and these guys are packing up their offices in cardboard boxes. They issue a polite statement about spending time with their families and hand over the keys. It makes me sick.
So you can imagine my sheer delight when I looked at the tape coming out of the Horn of Africa this week.
For weeks, a coalition of club presidents in Djibouti has been plotting to oust Souleiman Waberi, the president of the Djibouti football federation and a Fifa council member. They wanted him out. They called a vote. They did the paperwork. But Waberi understands something fundamental that these spreadsheet-waving club presidents simply cannot grasp: you cannot lose a vote if the opposition cannot physically breach the perimeter of the national technical centre.
At 5:30 p.m. on Sunday, while his rivals were presumably resting their legs and preparing their little speeches, Waberi went to work. He didn't send an email. He sent the police. Uniformed, heavily armed law enforcement officers occupied the FDF headquarters and the technical centre, effectively cancelling the coup by transforming a sporting administrative building into a fortified bunker.
Now, the bloggers and the analytics nerds are crying foul. They are pointing out that the police arrived without an administrative document or a court order.

I am sorry, but since when do you wait for a piece of paper from a judge to establish your physical dominance in the box?
When a striker is bearing down on your keeper, do you file a motion for a temporary injunction, or do you take his legs out? Waberi looked at the situation, recognized he was outnumbered in the boardroom, and successfully shifted the tactical battleground to a literal armed standoff. That is a statement win. That is the kind of aggressive, forward-thinking front office behavior that gets you a seat on the Fifa council in the first place.
I was sitting in a VIP lounge at the Cairo airport with a senior CAF disciplinary committee member a few years ago, and we were talking about what separates the good executives from the great ones. He told me, and I will never forget this, that survival in international football is not about who has the most votes. It is about who controls the master key to the boardroom and who has the direct phone number to the regional police commander.
Waberi clearly has both.

This is a blatant subversion of sporting integrity, and we cannot conduct a democratic vote while heavily armed officers are barricading the doors to the assembly hall.
Look at this guy. Look at the absolute lack of grit. He wants to have a democratic vote, but he is entirely unwilling to organize a tactical siege to make it happen. If you want to take down a sitting Fifa council member, you don't bring a petition. You bring a battering ram, a dozen flashbangs, and a willingness to leave it all out there on the concrete.
The club presidents are complaining that the occupation is illegal. But ask yourself this: what message does it send to the national team when the guy running the federation is willing to suspend habeas corpus just to keep his job?
It sends a message of total commitment. It tells the Under-17 squad that when they go out there on a rainy Tuesday to defend a one-goal lead, they need to defend it with the exact same ruthless, uncompromising, extra-judicial ferocity that their president used to defend his desk chair. You cannot measure that on a spreadsheet. Those are intangibles.
According to the whining statements from the opposition, the police have simply held their ground, refusing entry to anyone trying to conduct federation business. It is a masterclass in the low block. Mourinho would weep tears of joy looking at the structural integrity of this police line.

We have successfully parked the bus in front of the executive committee offices, and we intend to maintain this defensive shape until the general assembly loses interest or runs out of snacks.
That is how you execute a game plan. No panic. No rushing forward and leaving gaps in the defense. Just eleven guys with riot shields playing a flawless zone defense against the concept of corporate governance.
The opposition club presidents need to take a long, hard look in the mirror this morning. They thought they could just walk into the FDF headquarters and claim a victory on a technicality. They forgot that the game is played on the pitch, and in this case, the pitch is currently occupied by the armed wing of the state.
If they want to run Djibouti football, they need to hit the weight room, study the tape of this police barricade, and come back next season with a tactical assault vehicle.