| ||||||||||
— Analysis —
But a new clash of civilizations is being fought out in the boardrooms of England's clubs where, as fabulously wealthy Arab sheikh, suspiciously wealthy Russian oligarchs, modestly wealthy Brits and (to snooty Englishmen of the old school) crassly wealthy Americans all parade their competing worldviews and business models for the benefit of the Beautiful Game. The proposed acquisition of Manchester City Ltd. by the privately held Abu Dhabi United Group for Development and Investment, adds another front in this battle for the hearts, minds and money of English soccer fans.
Like Roman Abramovich, the Russian oil and steel magnate who controls Chelsea Football Club plc, the new men at Manchester's Eastlands stadium come armed with immense personal wealth and powerful connections in their less than democratic home countries. Abramovich is a close ally of Russian premier Vladimir Putin. Sulaiman Al-Fahim, the businessman heading the Abu Dhabi acquisition vehicle, is reportedly backed by members of the Gulf emirate's ruling Al Nahyan family. Lest we be misunderstood, neither man shows any sign of using his political connections in any way to affect English soccer. Indeed, Al-Fahim is arguably likely to prove a less problematic owner of Manchester City than former Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra, from whom he is buying the club for a reported £200 million ($361 million). Thaksin's domestic political woes may earlier have led him to hope that owning an English club would help him in his bid for political asylum in Britain, but they have been felt in some quarters to have brought negative publicity to the club while he fights extradition on corruption charges. But while both Abramovich and Al-Fahim are clearly competitive spirits, committed to investing their own money in keeping their respective clubs in contention at the top of the league, they seem equally clearly to view soccer clubs as rich men's toys. They invest as they would in a yacht or in a prize falcon rather than to generate profits. There may be a capital gain in store if they sell the clubs at some point in the future -- assuming the bubble they are creating with their vast spending on trophy players at £30 million a pop does not suddenly burst and destroy the game for years to come. But they are not coming to City of London institutions or New York investment banks for vast tranches of leveraged debt. Still, it is the big-name American owners whose styles have been controversial and confrontational. In 2005 Tampa Bay Buccaneers owner Malcolm Glazer acquired Manchester United for £790 million. To the fury of United fans, Glazer leveraged the club's fortunes to the hilt and pushed up ticket prices to pay for the debt. But United is the English and European club champion, not least because Glazer has joined in the big-name signings. Last year U.S. entrepreneur George Gillett Jr. and veteran private equity investor Tom Hicks agreed to acquire Liverpool Football Club and Athletic Grounds plc in a deal valuing the club at £218 million. But the two have since squabbled and so far failed to come up with the funding for a new stadium they promised. Many fans continue to call for them to sell up, perhaps to Dubai International Capital LLC, a state-owned investment company, which they beat in the bidding last year. The truth is soccer clubs are like other companies. They want owners who bring investment and stability and don't ask too many questions if the manager wants to make an expensive hire. They'd rather go for a playboy investor from an autocratic background who wants a successful club and enjoys the game than a tough capitalist whose main goal is massive profits. But they also exist to compete, and if both management models give them a chance at the championship, they'll fight on either man's team. |
|
|
|
|
|
|