Every football club has its rivals, but a special few draw widespread scorn from fans across the EFL.
Whether it’s due to financial backing, perceived arrogance, or how the club came into existence, some teams become lightning rods for disdain far beyond their local derbies.
From accusations of selling out the soul of football to being branded modern-day vanity projects, these clubs have earned a unique place in the hearts of neutral fans—for all the wrong reasons.
Here are five EFL sides that supporters up and down the country just love to hate.
MK Dons
No club in the EFL is more reviled for its origin story than MK Dons. Born from the controversial relocation of Wimbledon FC to Milton Keynes in 2004, the move was widely condemned as an act of footballing vandalism. For many, the idea that a club could be uprooted, rebranded, and effectively rebooted 60 miles away went against every foundational value of the sport.
Despite attempts to build legitimacy, including eventually relinquishing Wimbledon’s history and trophies, the franchise stigma has never left. Home attendances often lack atmosphere, and attempts at forging rivalries with nearby clubs feel artificial.
While MK Dons have produced a few memorable players and played attractive football at times, the manner of their creation will always ensure they’re seen by many as football’s original sin.
Wrexham
Wrexham were once a hard-luck story—an historic club languishing in the National League. But since Hollywood actors Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney took over, they’ve become one of the most polarising clubs in the country. On the surface, their rise has been heartwarming, but scratch deeper and many fans are starting to turn sour.
The resentment stems from their vast financial advantage. Backed by celebrity owners and a global documentary series, Wrexham have financial clout that far exceeds most of their rivals, and they’ve used it to cherry-pick top players from the leagues below. Jealousy plays a part, but so does fatigue—endless media coverage, a narrative driven by camera crews, and a perception that success is being bought rather than earned has made Wrexham easy to dislike.
They’re no longer seen as underdogs, but a commercial juggernaut muscling their way through the pyramid.
Salford City
Salford City were once a small, semi-professional outfit bouncing around the Northern Premier League. That changed overnight when the Class of ‘92—Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes, Gary Neville, Nicky Butt, and Phil Neville—acquired the club with the backing of billionaire Peter Lim. Since then, they’ve skyrocketed through the divisions, propelled by top-tier facilities and inflated wages.
For many, Salford represent everything wrong with modern football. A club with low attendances, minimal community heritage at EFL level, and an unnatural rise that feels more like a business project than a grassroots story. The owners’ media presence hasn’t helped either—Gary Neville’s outspoken nature draws attention, and the idea of former Manchester United stars running roughshod over League Two traditions has grated on long-time fans of the pyramid.
The football’s often functional, the budget’s bloated, and the patience for their project is running thin outside of Greater Manchester.
Forest Green Rovers
Once seen as a charming anomaly—a vegan football club with green values—Forest Green Rovers have now morphed into one of the most disliked “normal” clubs formerly in the EFL, and their relegation to the National League brought much joy. Much of the ire is directed at owner Dale Vince, whose green energy wealth turned the village club into a League One outfit almost overnight. But for many, the green credentials are seen as performative.
Forest Green’s values may be admirable on paper, but critics accuse them of being hypocritical: splashing League One-level wages in the National League while lecturing others about sustainability doesn’t sit well. Their branding often feels smug, and the matchday experience—complete with meat-free menus and corporate eco-posturing—has been mocked by fans who see it as more style than substance. Now back in the National League after relegation, they remain a club with few natural allies and many who quietly enjoy their struggles.
Fleetwood Town
Fleetwood’s rise through non-league to the EFL was remarkable, but the manner of their success has left a bitter taste for many. Backed by wealthy and controversial owner Andy Pilley, the club pumped significant funds into wages and transfer fees despite drawing modest crowds. Their spending eclipsed clubs with four or five times the fanbase, raising eyebrows across the pyramid.
Things got worse when Pilley was convicted of fraud in 2023 and sentenced to 13 years in prison. Suddenly, the suspicion many had about how Fleetwood could afford such a squad was validated. Fans had long questioned how sustainable their model was, and the subsequent instability has only heightened their image as a club built on sand. While Fleetwood have developed some talented players, the perception remains: they bought their place at the table, and now the bill has come due.
Conclusion
Every league needs its pantomime villains, and in the EFL, these five clubs wear that label with varying degrees of comfort. Whether it’s artificial success, moral posturing, or financial overreach, they’ve all rubbed rival supporters up the wrong way. Some will argue it’s jealousy. Others will say it’s a backlash against modern football. But whatever the reason, these clubs have earned a unique status: the ones everyone else loves to see lose.
