The much-derided Adidas Jabulani, created for the 2010 World Cup, is now the ball of choice in a niche sport
About once a month, Ben Clarke, the world’s leading footgolfer, carefully pumps up his collection of coveted Adidas Jabulani footballs.
Like players, Clarke possesses an extensive array of balls, all of which require regular inflation to prevent degradation, even those sitting pristine in their original boxes, unsullied by a single boot. Footballs are prime currency in a niche sport that tasks players with kicking one around a course, and into 18 oversized holes, in as few strokes as possible. Precision is everything.
It seems absurd, then, that pride of place among Clarke’s hoard is the Jabulani, once described by Fabio Capello as “the worst ball that I have seen in my life”. The former England manager was far from alone in his assessment. England goalkeeper David James called it “dreadful”, his Brazilian counterpart Júlio César said it was “like one of those you buy in the supermarket”, while Brazil forward Robinho said “the guy who designed this ball never played football”.
Few balls have been so widely derided as the one created for the 2010 World Cup, where its unpredictable flight saw it denounced as uncontrollable. Yet 16 years later, the demands of the world’s best footgolfers mean anyone in possession of a Jabulani is now sitting on a goldmine, with boxed models going for upwards of £500 and the value only increasing.
“It’s a bit mad,” admits Hertfordshire-based Clarke, who has topped the footgolf world rankings five times. “No one could control the ball in the [2010] World Cup, but here we are using it for a precision sport. We all trust it and rely on it. It’s very strange.”
The reason lies in the Jabulani’s precise engineering defect that so frustrated footballers on the biggest stage. Constructed from eight thermally bonded panels – a decrease from the 14 in its 2006 World Cup Adidas Teamgeist predecessor – the Jabulani reduced seams to a bare minimum, creating the smoothest, roundest ball ever made.
When struck with minimal spin at the high speeds that top-level footballers tend to shoot or cross, it caused a knuckle-ball effect, generating sudden swerves or dips. Conversely, for footgolfers, who hit a ball with the inside of their foot to generate consistent spin, the Jabulani’s reduced seams help it travel further than any other ball. Only Adidas’ offshoots from the same era – including the Teamgeist, Terrapass, Speedcell and original Torfabrik – come close.
With none of these models in production for close to 15 years, footgolf’s demand has coupled with a scarcity in supply to send prices soaring.
“They are getting rarer and more expensive,” says Clarke, who has three boxed Jabulanis, alongside a host of other Adidas balls from that era. “I haven’t bought one for a few years, just because of how expensive they are. You tend to get them off other footgolfers or collectors who sell them because they see the footgolf market.
“The last one I got was around £250 about three years ago, but they are now £500 or more. It can be an expensive mistake if you kick it into a tree and it bursts.”
There is a consensus within the sport that the situation is unsustainable. Sean Rontree, a director of footgolf’s governing body in England, has three Jabulanis and three Speedcells in his own personal collection. He foresees an imminent end point.
“There will come a time when there won’t be any more on the market,” says Rontree. “Adidas won’t entertain making any more. We’ve had conversations with them, but the numbers they would have to ask for to make it profitable – around 10,000 balls – were out of our reach.”
The shortage has preceded an arms race. Targeting the 1,200 players who competed in this summer’s Footgolf World Cup in Mexico, a host of entrepreneurs are attempting to create a bespoke ball that can achieve the holy grail of challenging the Jabulani. Brands including the FGB (Malaysia), Squb (the Netherlands), Triero (Britain) and Birdie (Brazil) have all released footgolf-specific balls that retail for about £100.
“I think, overall, our ball is superior in terms of quality and not needing repairs,” says FGB founder Jeffrey Cottam, whose company are now on their third-generation ball. “But in terms of trying to beat the Jabu, I don’t think anyone is there yet.
“The hardest bit is distance. Our ball is maybe five, six, seven metres behind the Jabu. We want to replicate the bounce of the Jabu, because that thing continuously bounces down the fairway. I’m trying to bring out a ball next year that beats the Jabu in all departments. There has to be a ball that comes out which is just as competitive as it. It’s the natural course of things.”
Clarke remains pragmatic. He knows the sport cannot survive for ever on a finite, decaying stock. But until a true heir emerges, he will continue his monthly ritual of tending to his dwindling Jabulani flock.
“It’s bizarre what we have to do to extend the life of a ball, just so it’s there when we need it,” he says. “One of them gave up on me last week and started chucking air out of one of the panels, so maybe I didn’t pump it up enough. The world of footgolf and balls is ridiculous.”