Outside the hall, the snow consolidates into ice and the sidewalks become increasingly treacherous. Inside, the beat of a drum echoes among the scattered fans watching from an upper gallery as RFS, the Latvian champions, dominate their pre-season match against Estonia’s Nomme Kalju. When their towering Albanian defender, Herdi Prenga, puts them two ahead, the outcome is effectively sealed and the only surprise is a combative but less fluid away side introducing some doubt with a late consolation.
With winter rendering the adjacent grass pitch unplayable, they are competing under one roof in the Livonian League, a new friendly tournament bringing together teams from Latvia and Estonia before the domestic campaigns resume in March. But there is a growing movement in favor of making these matches a more formal, meaningful event: as part of a pioneering UEFA-sanctioned cross-border ‘Baltic League’, which would also include sides from Lithuania. Many in smaller countries believe that existing structures are not equipped to cope with football’s ever-widening competitive and financial divide.
Related: UEFA faces increasing threats no matter when Aleksander Ceferin leaves his top job | Nick Ames
“I believe this is the best region in the UEFA area to build a cross-border competition,” said Maksims Krivunecs, chairman of Latvia’s top division, the Virsliga. “We are three very close countries socially, economically and culturally. Travel and logistics are not difficult. And then there is the most important factor: in terms of football we are very similar.”
Krivunecs has been instrumental in a proposal that, if all stakeholders were convinced, would see the top four teams from all three Baltic states meet in a combined competition during the second half of each season. In the 2023 campaign, RFS dropped just two points against opponents outside Latvia’s top five. The theory goes that regular meetings with the likes of Flora Tallinn or regional giants Zalgiris Vilnius would better equip them for European competition while creating financial opportunities that would benefit the entire local ecosystem.
Aleksandrs Usovs, RFS’s director of football, watches as his imaginatively scouted team of twelve nationalities outsmart their opponents with attractive, fast patterns. “We want stronger competition so that the best clubs from Estonia and Lithuania can give us that,” he says. “Our population is just under 2 million people, but if we join them and create a market of 6 million, it will attract a different level of attention from the media, fans, sponsors and also at government level.”
In 2022, the Latvian, Lithuanian and Estonian top flights grossed £25 million, £13 million and £11 million respectively. It goes without saying that there is no ambition to rival the £5.5 billion of the English Premier League. But what if joining forces created a league with similar potential to that of, say, Denmark, which raised £246m; or perhaps more realistically, the £83m posted by the Czech First League?
Firstly, according to Usovs, it would help clubs to transfer players more effectively. The Virsliga has the youngest average age in Europe and is seen as an increasingly viable stopover for prospects from elsewhere. Last summer, RFS sold Serbian striker Andrej Ilic to Vålerenga, in Norway, for £1.4 million; in January they took a healthy sell-on fee when he moved to Lille for £3.4 million. The 2022 champions Valmiera have earned a remarkable turnover of £5 million over the past two years. Latvia does not have a domestic television agreement, so with greater exposure and a higher level of football, clubs could do business faster with talent development.
“I see a Baltic competition as the only solution,” says Krivunecs. “We can continue as we are doing now for a while, but the problem is that other competitions are developing in the meantime. Domestic football is fun, but we are having a hard time at international level.
“Being small is to our advantage: we can be more creative and flexible in trying out new projects and formats. We have analyzed this for a long time; it didn’t just happen.”
Krivunecs, who is highly regarded in European football and is running in the Latvian FA presidential elections in April, has no shortage of sympathizers on the continent but his biggest challenge lies in convincing those closer to home. He explains that the Virsliga’s ten clubs are unanimously on board and this is evident from a conversation with a senior board member of one of the smaller teams, who does not necessarily expect to qualify for the Baltic league every year. “We should try something different,” that figure notes. “Otherwise we will become isolated.”
According to Krivunecs, clubs in Estonia and Lithuania are also eligible. But others in key positions are not so enthusiastic about it. “The answer from our side is no,” Estonian FA president Aivar Pohlak told the Guardian. “Our market situation is different, so in the short term we would be the losers. Our only chance is to build our own financial model, where income sources are accepted by our society.
“It is not difficult to think about tougher competition that will support the development of the game, but it will end up with ‘who will bring in better foreign players?’ Structurally, our football remains somewhere in the last century, so we must mainly think about developing our own culture.”
Pohlak points out that a version of the Baltic league was trialled in the late 2000s, albeit without a link to domestic setups or UEFA competitions.
It was, he says, dogged by match-fixing problems. But those who took part have rosier memories. Jurijs Zigajevs, winner with Ventspils in 2009, is another spectator when RFS defeated Kalju and raves about “great memories” of a final against Lithuanian side Suduva. “I don’t understand why it couldn’t work this time, provided every country keeps its European places,” he says.
Krivunecs’ proposal does just that. He is undeterred by dissenters and believes that a joint venture with Lithuania would initially suffice if Estonia objects. His research has shown that supporters are generally enthusiastic and he points out that some fans have traveled between countries to watch Livonian League matches. Any formal proposal between the states would have to be signed by UEFA.
That seems more likely than ever at a time when, following the European Court of Justice’s Super League ruling in December, the future form of football is the subject of intense debate. The subject of cross-border competitions is not exactly new: there has been talk of an all-Irish league for some time and two years ago a group of Belgian and Dutch clubs submitted a proposed BeNeLiga to UEFA president Aleksandr Ceferin.
Related: UEFA faces increasing threats no matter when Aleksander Ceferin leaves his top job | Nick Ames
That collapsed, largely due to opposition in the Netherlands, but there is a growing feeling that the football authorities would be receptive to the right idea.
Last month, Ceferin told the Guardian that there had been “many discussions” on the subject and proposed a solution that would preserve national competitions.
One source with a keen interest in European competitions describes the potential format of the Baltic competition as perfect and laments the fact that UEFA has not come forward with funding for a pilot. The authorities say that cross-border football is a matter of time. In other encouraging news about Krivunecs’ plan, FIFA recently funded a research project into the potential governance of a Baltic League.
However, full validation won’t come until it gets off the ground. Usovs fears that without radical change, RFS will reach a ceiling, saying: “We are now as big as the market, and it is really difficult to outpace the market.” It is time for Krivunecs to take the next step. “We are a platform for local and international talent,” he says. “We know our place, we do our job well. Now we want to adapt and have the opportunity to move forward.”