The problem with running a modern top-flight football club is that raising revenue is hard to do. Once you’ve grabbed your slice of league-wide media rights, made a vaguely colonial-sounding pre-season tour of the “Far East,” stitched up some sponsorship deals with a gambling company or a country’s tourism agency, and shipped as many shirts as the global merch market can handle, you hit the ceiling of your earning capacity. At that point, as a club, what do you do?
You can raise ticket prices, which risks alienating fans and the local community you’re supposed to represent. You can try your hand at a few miserable little crypto or AI plug-ins to build “engagement” among supporters or become a pioneer in the nascent field of fan “activations,” with limited potential returns. You can promise to build a new 100,000-seat stadium, but that takes time and money and doesn’t solve your immediate (or even future, should you go into debt to finance the project) need for cash. You can flog off a hotel or two to a sibling subsidiary of your parent company, though for that you need to start off with a couple of hotels. You can hope to sell to a monied investor, but the days of loss-indifferent billionaires making vanity investments in clubs seem over, and there are only so many publicity-hungry sovereign wealth funds to go around.
