The Cup That Lost Its Shine: Why the Carabao Deserves Better

There was a time when the League Cup, now the Carabao, meant something. Not just to the fans who braved cold Tuesday nights in creaking stands, but to the managers, players, and clubs who saw it as a legitimate route to glory. A trophy in the cabinet, a European adventure, a day out at Wembley; all of it mattered. Somewhere along the way, though, the competition lost its soul.

Tonight, Swansea City host Plymouth Argyle in the second round. It’s a fixture that, in theory, should stir excitement; a chance to progress, to dream, to build momentum. But the truth is, the early stages of the Carabao Cup have become a graveyard of ambition. Not because the fans don’t care, they do, but because the clubs, increasingly, don’t.

This apathy didn’t start in the Championship. It began in the Premier League, where top-flight sides have long treated the competition as a glorified training session. Not so much reserve teams as third-string lineups; players barely known to their own supporters, let alone the opposition. The message was clear, this cup doesn’t matter. And like all bad habits, it trickled down.

Now, even clubs outside the top tier echo the same tired refrain, “We’d rather concentrate on the league.” It’s a phrase that’s become a shield for underwhelming performances and a justification for weakened sides. But it’s also a betrayal of what football used to be.

There was a time when teams competed on four fronts without blinking. League, FA Cup, League Cup, Europe; bring it on. Sides played twice a week, every week, and still managed to maintain style, intensity, and identity. The idea that a midweek cup tie could derail a season would’ve been laughed out of the dressing room.

And yet, in today’s game, we’re told that a second-round Carabao fixture is too much. Too draining, too risky, too low on the priority list. The irony is staggering. Clubs now fly eight thousand miles for mid-season friendlies, chasing commercial deals and brand exposure, all while insisting that a domestic cup run is too taxing. Somehow, three games in Singapore don’t sap the legs, but ninety minutes in Newport does.

It’s not just about nostalgia, it’s about value. Look at the recent winners of the League Cup. Manchester United lifted it in 2023, their first trophy in six years. Newcastle United, runners-up that year, treated the final like a pilgrimage. And in 2025, they made that pilgrimage again, this time taking home the trophy. A 2–1 win over Liverpool at Wembley ended a seventy-year wait for major domestic silverware. For most of the fans in black and white, it was the first time in their lifetimes they’d seen their club lift a trophy. That wasn’t second rate; it was sacred.

And what about us? Swansea City, 2013. That run wasn’t just magical, it was transformative. Wembley, five goals, a clean sheet, and a European tour that followed. Would we trade that for five extra points in the league? Not a chance. That cup win is etched into our identity; a moment that elevated the club and gave supporters memories that still warm the soul.

So why has the Carabao Cup become the forgotten child of English football? Part of the answer lies in the structure. The dominance of the Premier League, the bloated fixture calendar, and the looming spectre of a European Super League have all played their part. If the elite clubs do eventually break away, perhaps the League Cup could be reborn, free from the shadow of those who never truly respected it.

Imagine a competition without the top six; a tournament where every club that enters actually wants to win. Where the final isn’t a footnote in a season, but a headline. That kind of reform might be exactly what English football needs; a reset, a rebalancing, a return to authenticity.

Of course, reform is easier said than done. The FA and EFL have their own battles to fight, and the commercial pressures are relentless. But if the Carabao Cup is to survive, it needs more than just sponsorship deals and TV slots; it needs belief. From the clubs, the managers, and the players.

Which brings us back to tonight. Swansea v Plymouth. It’s not a glamour tie, and it won’t dominate the headlines. But it’s a chance; a chance to show that the competition still matters. That progress isn’t just a word used in press conferences, but a genuine ambition.

We hope the Swans field a strong side. Not just for the result, but for the message it sends. That this club still values the cups, still respects the traditions, still wants to give its supporters something to shout about. And if we do make it through, maybe, just maybe, we’ll get that away tie at Anfield. Liverpool’s Third XI, sure; but under the lights, in front of a packed away end, chasing a place in the last sixteen? That’s football. That’s the dream.

The Carabao Cup may have lost some of its shine, but it hasn’t lost its heart. It’s still there, buried beneath the cynicism and the fixture congestion. All it needs is a little care, a little respect, and a little belief.

Let’s hope Swansea City lead the way.