I wrote about this the other day — the London Times‘s fictional “exclusive” about a huge, world-changing club soccer tournament, the Dream Football League, to be held in Qatar in the height of summer every two years, beginning in 2015.

A week later, the former British paper of record, issued what journalists in England call a “climbdown” — a retraction — of a story the newspaper had at first vigorously defended, involving both the reporter, Oliver Kay, and his immediate superiors.

A week later, they admitted they had foisted reams of fiction on their readers (call them “lies”, if you prefer). Even though on the very day the Dream League package appeared several media outlets suggested the story had no basis in fact. It was not so much a hoax as a colossal failure of a major newspaper to practice even rudimentary journalistic ethics.

In this fairly pathetic and not-quite apology, they seem to try to mitigate the enormity of their error — which took the form of three full pages of the newspaper, including the back page of the tabloid.

Here is the whole of the retraction.

But I am still ticked off — on behalf of the newspaper industry, and gullible readers, and by the unwillingness of the Times to state it boldly: We were wrong, and this is what we are going to do about it, and these are the sanctions taken against the reporter and editors who let this abomination go forward.

The thrust of the retraction comes from Tony Evans, the newspaper’s football editor — who is a major figure at every British newspaper — and seems to be “it could have happened to anyone”.

Picking up near the top.

How it came about tells you something about the state of the game and the difficulties of football journalism. Oliver Kay developed a relationship with a contact who appeared to be connected with the Qatari ownership at Paris Saint-Germain.

Over the months, this contact provided information that subsequently turned out to be right. Kay did not use any of this knowledge because he could not back it up with secondary sources. However, each time a tip-off turned into a fact, an element of trust grew.

So, a guy who likes to screw with reporters had fed this reporter some chicken feed that subsequently proved to be accurate, and now the Timesman is all in on him.

But already it’s not their fault. It’s not me; it’s this guy who maybe has something to do with PSG.

After the event, it is easy to look into the background of an individual and proclaim that minimal research would have unmasked an unreliable source. This is to misunderstand the world of football. All kinds of chancers attach themselves to the game. As the sport becomes ever more bloated by money, these dubious characters are drawn to the periphery of the game, attracted by the opportunity of a share of the cash.

So, let’s stipulate the game of soccer is lousy with “chancers” who “attach themselves to the game” … isn’t it the first responsibility of even a quasi-reputable newspaper to weed out those guys?

Yes. Yes, it is.

It is not unusual for football journalists to have a contact whose past looks murky under close scrutiny. Some turn out to be useful sources of information, some to be not quite what they seem. Even then, it does not always mean that they are wrong. This means that every story needs checking.

Ah, checking! What a concept. But that can be so tedious!

Much was plausible about the suggestions that Qatar was planning a new tournament. The Gulf state has become a serious player on the world scene over the past decade and is keen to continue developing its role in football. Plans to gather the game’s top teams in the Middle East have been mooted before. If any nation has the resources to pull off this sort of competition, it is Qatar.

Well, you know those Gulfies. They are crazy rich, and they don’t mind messing with the world’s game — or England’s game, to put it in context. Qatar had the audacity to bid for the 2022 World Cup — and win it. So they would put on this nutty club tournament, too, to please themselves while ruining the club system. Sure.

So that’s our main defense, by the way: Gulf Arabs will do anything, which made the whole of the non-story sound “plausible”.

Kay began to call some of Europe’s biggest clubs. The answers were off the record and fell into two categories. Some made it clear that they had no knowledge of the concept. The others said, yes, they had heard talk about such an idea, yes, £175 million was about the figure mentioned but, no, they did not think it was going to happen and could not see themselves being involved.

Some of the teams had “heard” of this because a not-necessarily serious French website had invented the whole of this news story two days before. The seed of a ridiculous idea had been planted just across the Channel. The Times, then, was getting reaction from people who likely had heard about the original, plainly fictional story, probably at a remove.

Wait. This is going to get good.

These secondary sources treated the questions seriously. And here is where The Times made a massive mistake. Because so many significant people in football did not laugh off the idea, it seemed that the story could be genuine.

Oh, only now did the Times make a massive mistake? Only now? Just because a handful of clubs allegedly contacted by the Times did not fall down on the floor laughing? Because a few of them were cautious enough to say, “well, I guess it could happen” and some others had residue from the French fake story knocking around in their heads? And that is enough to gear up for a major exclusive?

The warning signs – that no one had heard specific details of the DFL or seen its plans – were missed. In principle, the idea was possible. There were plenty to attest to that.

In reality, the story appears to have been invented and had just enough plausibility to be seductive.

The warning signs? They were flashing red beacons, big as a house, easily seen from outer space — and the Times rolled right past them. Because they wanted to be first, even if they were wrong.

So, after seven days of letting the lie of a story hang around, even after the French guy who said the whole of the idea came out of his head, even after denials from around the globe … the Times guy comes to the sad conclusion that “the story appears to have been invented”.

But it’s not really their fault because it had “just enough plausibility to be seductive”.

(It makes you wonder what else the Times would find seductively plausible. The Moon is made of green cheese? Could be. Some have suggested it; others have not denied it.)

The whole of the Times’s retraction is not the abject “we screwed up massively and heads will roll” that is needed in situations like this one. The statement ought to have included “we will review all our policies and, in the future, not write stories about world-changing sports ideas without at least one name attached to them.”

But, no, the Times has done a supremely noble thing by owning up to this on any level at all, one that separates them from the real dross of Fleet Street.

Over the three days that followed the publication of the story, it appeared increasingly clear that Kay and the paper had been duped. And that the checks from the office in London had not been stringent enough in the rush to publication.

I’m not sure any college paper in the United States would have been reckless enough to go with what the Times had — or didn’t actually have. And can you call it “duped” when you stampeded to print without a single named source?

This is an unusual situation. Normally, when a story is disputed, lawyers become involved. Individuals and organisations demand retractions and writs are issued. Here, it did not happen. It would have been possible to ride out the storm, tell the world that time would vindicate the newspaper and allow memories of the furore to fade away.

Unusual situation? You mean making up a story based on a bit of satire and sourced to nobody? I hope to hell it’s unusual, but I fear it is not. And the Times might have been able to “ride out the storm” — except that they had been called out all over the world within 24 hours of the publication of that disaster, and they were an international laughingstock.

But that is not how the Times does things. We value our reputation. There will be changes now to the way we operate, and an extra level of scepticism will be incorporated into our working practices.

But one thing will not change. If we get it wrong, we will hold our hands up and admit it.

That is “not how the Times does things” … except when it does. They would have let this story rot in a grave if they had been able to figure out a way to make it happen, but their errors were so monstrous and so public, that was never going to happen. So they admit they are wrong. How very brave.

If they “value their reputation” they should have waited until they really did have a story, and not the garbled “news” from two days before from the mind of a bored Frenchman, buttressed by the non-denials by clubs who hadn’t heard any of this and the “well, I suppose it is possible” musings by those who won’t say “couldn’t happen” to anything.

But so, so brave of the Times to admit when they are wrong.

And that “one thing will not change” stuff? I am less impressed by their holding up their hands and saying “we just made the mistake of the century” than I would be by a believable pledge to, instead, do some due diligence, take notice when absolutely nobody can confirm your story, pay heed when no one else has it, when you have no sources from Qatar. Or the Gulf. Or from anyone who is in charge of anything anywhere.

This ticks me off, still. It is proper that this once-important newspaper has admitted to one of the worst journalism scandals in sports history, but their presenting it as a “could have happened to anyone” … “there but for the grace of God” … teaching moment is dishonest and self-serving.

This “story” did real damage to the whole of the journalism world. I don’t want excuses from the Times. I want apologies to every honest and competent journalist in the world — and to every single one of the readers who for even one minute paid any attention to the fantasies the Times printed.