From Leiden student and petrol station attendant to diplomat of the football world
As Secretary General of the Royal Dutch Football Association, Gijs de Jong travels the world. The career of this Leiden public administration graduate tells the story of a petrol station attendant who became one of the top diplomats in Dutch football.
The contrast between Gijs de Jong’s life before and after Good Friday 1997 could hardly have been greater. The newly graduated public administration student was still recovering from five years of highs and lows in Leiden, working as a petrol station attendant near Winkelhof in Leiderdorp. His life suddenly picked up speed after a security manager from what was then FC Den Haag stopped to refuel.
‘We knew each other from my final-year internship at the KNVB, where I had written a safety manual for football clubs. He recognised me and told me he was at his wits’ end. He had a new job at the recently completed Arena and was drowning in work.’
Long story short: that Easter Monday, Gijs started work at the Amsterdam Arena during a Herbalife event. ‘With my academic background, I was suddenly dropped into a highly operational environment. And I loved it.’
It marked the start of an intense period. ‘I was on an agency contract, paid by the hour, but I sometimes worked 80 hours a week. I was practically living there. And when I was working, my friends were sitting in some of the best seats in the house: from Michael Jackson to Madonna, from the first Champions League final in the Arena to the first edition of Sensation. I was swept up in the hustle and bustle of city life.’
Down-to-earth
The only adjustment was to Amsterdam itself. ‘The blunt sense of humour was new to this down-to-earth Brabander. The first time I had to brief the stadium stewards, they immediately put the new guy through his paces with some fairly crass jokes. I thought: if I don’t stand up for myself, I might as well leave. To my surprise, they respected it when I gave as good as I got. From then on, I started to enjoy the Amsterdam style.’
Foregone conclusion
Although not a young talent, he did have a PSV season ticket from the age of 16. If he could, he would do something in football, he thought. But this was far from certain during his studies.
After school, he chose to study Industrial Engineering and Management in Eindhoven. He assumed he would coast through it, but soon found himself out of his depth. ‘I hit matrix algebra in my first year, and within a month I barely understood it at all. Six months in, I had dropped out.’
A career aptitude test pointed him back towards public and business administration. ‘It surprised me, but I took it seriously.’ He moved to Leiden in 1991 to study the more political science-oriented variant.
Asopos de Vliet
Knowing he had to work hard to pass his first year, Gijs chose a student association that would not take up too much of his time: rowing club Asopos de Vliet. After a short stay with a host family in Rijnsburg, he moved into a student house on the grand Julianalaan in Oegstgeest.
‘Eleven of us in a beautiful villa. It was a welcome change after a rather lonely start.’ The housemates argued over the newspaper and held long, heated debates about football. ‘It became increasingly lively, and almost everything I did in Leiden revolved around the house or Asopos – where I later served as treasurer.’
Their shared football obsession soon turned into an indoor team, Balletje B. ‘We were always bottom of the league, with one exception as champion.’ The house also produced some notable names, including Van Dik Hout singer Martin Buitenhuis and top lawyer Robert Malewicz. ‘Robert and another housemate, Vincent Vermolen, are still among my closest friends.’
One-off
Gijs loved public administration. ‘It’s broad and not too difficult, and I learned to look at issues from multiple angles – typical of Leiden, I would say.’
He regularly returns to Il Principe. ‘Machiavelli describes the instrumental side of power. What do I get from it? Sometimes practical ideas: like how, as a leader, you can occasionally do something unpleasant, as long as it is a one-off. And sometimes it makes you think. For example, on how victors deal with minorities in conquered territories, and what you would stand for in that situation.’
After a few years as an event manager, De Jong applied for a consultancy role within the Arena’s advisory arm. ‘The stadium had developed smart innovations in crowd management. I helped develop those further and advised stadiums outside the Netherlands.’
He moved to the KNVB in Zeist in 2003, opting for a life with more free weekends. This was well-timed with the start of his relationship with Eva, now his wife. Within the association he held a series of management roles in safety, domestic competition and international tournaments, before becoming operational director in 2014.
Passed over
That lasted until 2018. ‘When Bert van Oostveen left, I thought I was in line to succeed him as director of professional football. I had even completed an advanced executive programme in strategic management in Switzerland. But things turned out differently. I was passed over, which was a serious blow. Opposition from several clubs towards the KNVB at the time played a decisive role.’
‘It wasn’t personal’, he explains, ‘but Dutch football was struggling internationally. We failed to qualify for Euro 2016 in France and the 2018 World Cup in Russia. There was also an internal governance investigation following issues around FC Twente’s licensing. In short, the feeling was that a director from outside was needed.’
Self-reflection
When, to add insult to injury, De Jong read this in De Telegraaf, he sought legal advice. ‘In the end, board member Erik Mulder and FIFA official Marco van Basten persuaded me to stay. I was offered the role of Secretary General, essentially the KNVB’s foreign minister. I secured agreement that I would also take on rule development, international events, VAR implementation and the World Coaches programme. Everyone thought it made sense. More than eight years later, I’m still very happy there.’
The Swiss leadership programme had already pushed him into deeper self-reflection. ‘They asked: “What has actually happened between your birth and now?” At that point, it wasn’t no longer all plain sailing. I was living very happily in Asten with my lovely, smart wife and three young children, travelling the world during the week and returning home at weekends, as well as refereeing youth matches. So that wasn’t the problem. But for the first time I started thinking about my childhood.
‘I had long conversations about it with friends. One thing that was never spoken about in our family was my stillborn sister. I regretted never having asked my parents about it.’
Making the best of it
His friends asked why he had never brought the subject up. This prompted De Jong to talk to his family. ‘I found it deeply confronting, but my parents and sister responded really well. Everyone found it meaningful to be able to talk about the impact of that loss.’
The courage to take that step helped him look towards his future. ‘From 2010 onwards, my career had followed a straight line towards one role: director of professional football. I realised you have to make the best of the opportunities you are given and stay open to different options. It’s a kind of personal version of what I learned in Leiden: there are always other perspectives.’
Dutch mindset
His Leiden background also comes in useful in his work. ‘I represent the interests of Dutch football abroad, mainly within UEFA and FIFA. They’re huge organisations with hundreds of member countries. When I work with colleagues from other countries, I regularly encounter issues that my Dutch mindset has difficulty with.
‘Gay and women’s rights in parts of the Arab world? The global disruption caused by Trump? Things often clash with my typically Dutch values of equality, inclusion and solidarity. Speaking out is seen as a strength in the Netherlands, but internationally it’s not.’
Diplomatic approach
The KNVB takes a long-term approach to protecting Dutch football’s interests. In the run-up to this summer’s World Cup, De Jong continues to favour diplomacy.
‘You can certainly raise concerns – they expect that of the Dutch – but pushing too hard ultimately backfires. If you try to see things from each other’s perspectives, you find that nine times out of ten you think the same thing. That forms the basis for broadly supported solutions.
‘That philosophy has earned me the trust of my colleagues around the world. Yes, a bit like a fixer. You could compare it to the approach of another Secretary General, Mark Rutte. With all due modesty, I’m a great admirer of the NATO Secretary General.’
Asked whether the approach works, he says, ‘The Netherlands has long been seen as a progressive and innovative football nation. I help to capitalise on that. Other countries want to learn from us, and the big federations take our views into account. At the same time, we learn from them too. That is why it is so important to observe the world with an open mind.’
