Tom Brady's Built in Birmingham is an embarrassing attempt at copying Wrexham

Independent

20 hours ago

'Probably what he knows about football you could put on a postage stamp,' says a Birmingham City fan. He might be joking but Tom Brady – the man with a greater grounding in the NFL than the EFL – is unaware the other club in the city is called Aston Villa and wasn't told not to pronounce the 'h' in Birmingham. At one stage, in the disastrous first season of Brady's minority ownership, he shows he knows something. 'We lose every f***ing match,' he laments.
Built in Birmingham, and even the name is a clue to its objectives, is more about Tom Brady and Tommy Shelby – the Peaky Blinders creator Steven Knight features regularly – than John Eustace and John Ruddy. Eustace, infamously, was fired by the new owners Knighthead Capital with Birmingham sixth in the Championship.
'Together we will not fail,' declares chair Tom Wagner. They start off by failing, though possibly not together, given the revolving door to the manager's office. But editorially, they fail too (and it is them, given that Brady and Wagner are executive producers).
As any connoisseur of such documentaries knows, the bad years make for more entertaining television than the good. But in a five-part series, one is devoted to the hubristic demotion of 2023-24, four to the bankrolled cruise through League One. And, given some other owners are asset-strippers, or burden clubs with debt, or have other nefarious purposes, it is worth noting that Knighthead has invested. Brady's manager is damning of their inheritance. 'They have a f***ng shipping container as their lead performance centre,' he says, and Wagner and co have improved facilities.
They are unashamedly ambitious – 'we will get to the Prem, it is just a question of when, not if', says Wagner, who believes their future lies in the top half of the top division – and may prove astute businessmen if their sense that a club from the Second City has untapped potential is justified.
Perhaps, too, they will crack the American television market. Built in Birmingham feels modelled on Welcome to Wrexham (what next? Come to Colchester? Constructed in Chesterfield? Created in Crewe?). But it offers too little even to Birmingham fans (besides those in it, who provide the self-deprecating humour).
They are trying to mine a formula, but it is a dumbing down of the League One season, with the other 22 clubs obscured and two highlighted. They are at pains to draw distinctions between Birmingham and Wrexham, but not Wigan or Wycombe. Only two league games attract more than a cursory mention: long segments on the two meetings with Wrexham.
'Wrexham, we're coming for your ass,' says Brady, in an outbreak of frat-boy nonsense. The Birmingham fans are at least sharper. 'You can stick your f***ing Deadpool up your arse,' they chant. Their special guest, David Beckham, has to explain a chorus about sheepshaggers to Brady. His visit is instructive. Wagner wants to give Beckham a Birmingham swag bag, presumably thinking the very rich need more free stuff.
Brady is uneasy talking to English people, apart from Beckham, and much more relaxed around Americans. His reference points are all American, sending manager Chris Davies a video about transformational leadership from a college football coach. He perks up when talking about his NFL career; when there is more footage of Brady's touchdown passes than Birmingham's passing, it feels clear who the designed audience is.
Perhaps they want non-stop Brady but the wit and the best one-liners come from the Birmingham fans, whereas the serial Super Bowl winner's management-speak musings on leadership may work on the US corporate circuit but, no matter how often Wagner says they are invaluable, feel bland. They certainly don't spare Birmingham the drop in 2024. Brady's one footballing opinion of note concerns Wayne Rooney. 'I am a little worried about our head coach's work ethic,' he said. 'I don't have great instincts on that.'
But there isn't a proper examination of Wagner's decision to fire Eustace and appoint the former England captain. The verdict from one of the fans was blunt: 'What qualifies Wayne to manage Birmingham City? Absolutely nothing.' If only he had been on the interview panel; Wagner and co fared better, in fairness, in plumping for the lower-profile Davies last summer.
Rooney comes and goes in 15 minutes of the first episode. Others feature still less. Three of the five men to manage Birmingham in 2023-24 go unmentioned; Tony Mowbray was diagnosed with bowel cancer, his enforced absence a reason for their relegation, and yet, somehow, the producers made an episode without a reference to him.
Brady blames the players, whom he calls lazy and entitled, for the club's demotion. There is a clearout and thereafter Birmingham succeed, in their own minds, by implementing a new culture. 'Getting promoted is an amazing accomplishment,' said Wagner. 'I love that everyone doubted we would do it.' Really? Birmingham were the bookmakers' favourites after a £30m outlay. Spending a record amount of money for a third-tier club may have played its part.
They get 111 points and, to Brady's delight, finish above Wrexham. Which, it would seem, is their hope for the ratings. This is a battle of the documentaries, a fight for new American followers. And yet it is also an indication of one of the many things that are wrong with the game when historic clubs are defined by producing airbrushed content for streaming in the United States in attempts to expand their fanbase. Because there are plenty of good reasons to support Birmingham, but this show isn't one of them.