Multi-club ownership might be the future of football—but that doesn’t mean it’s good for the game.
In fact, for many clubs and fans, it represents the creeping commercialisation of something that was once proudly local, honest, and community-focused.
It’s Already Here: EFL Clubs Caught in the Web
This isn’t just a Premier League issue. Multi-club ownership (MCO) has already found its way into the EFL, and the results are anything but reassuring. Just look at Walsall. Since being taken over by American investors with links to Irish club Drogheda United, the Saddlers have seen the beginnings of an interconnected ownership model that raises difficult questions about identity and independence.
Then there’s the more established link between Watford and Udinese, both owned by the Pozzo family. While fans of both clubs have benefited from player movement in some cases, the relationship has also seen head-scratching loan decisions and a sense that neither club is entirely in control of its own destiny. Players are shuffled between clubs based not on merit or tactical need, but business strategy.
This is the reality of MCO. It may be efficient. It may be strategic. But it’s also cynical—and it comes with consequences.
The Conflict of Interest That Never Goes Away
UEFA has attempted to draw a line in the sand, with rules prohibiting individuals from influencing more than one club in the same competition. But these regulations are full of loopholes, and enforcement remains weak.
Even if clubs within the same network aren’t directly competing in Europe, the integrity of domestic leagues is still undermined. What happens when two clubs with shared ownership are locked in a relegation scrap or chasing promotion? Whether or not anything untoward occurs, the perception alone is damaging. Football survives on trust, and MCO erodes it with every inside deal and murky connection.
Distorting the Transfer Market
One of the biggest issues with multi-club networks is how they exploit the transfer system. Players are regularly moved between clubs at inflated prices that benefit the overall group rather than the individual teams. According to research from Norton Rose Fulbright and Play the Game, this allows owners to sidestep Financial Fair Play rules and shift money across borders with minimal scrutiny.
It’s not uncommon for fees to be manipulated or for players to be bought with little intention of ever contributing to the first team. This isn’t a sporting model—it’s asset management.
A Gateway to Financial Irregularities
Two in-depth 2025 studies—one by the University of Manchester and another by the Sports and Crime Briefing—laid bare the dangers of MCO when left unchecked. One particularly alarming concern is the potential for money laundering. Clubs, through complicated ownership webs, can be used to funnel funds from one part of the world to another under the guise of player salaries or inflated sponsorships.
Chris Dalby’s investigative work showed how players’ salaries in MCO groups can be used to quietly transfer money to shell companies. In a sport already plagued by dubious offshore arrangements and blurred lines of accountability, this takes the problem to another level.
Clubs as Brands, Not Communities
Perhaps the most overlooked cost of multi-club ownership is its effect on identity. Smaller clubs often become feeder teams, their ambitions stunted and their autonomy lost. Fans are left wondering if their team exists to win matches or to serve a corporate master.
When club strategy is dictated by group interests rather than local ones, disillusionment follows. Whether it’s Drogheda operating under Walsall’s shadow, or a potential move by a young star from Vicarage Road to Udine that no one in Hertfordshire understands, MCO reduces a club to a cog in a larger machine.
Football is supposed to be tribal, irrational, local. MCOs are rational, efficient, and remote. The two ideologies are fundamentally opposed.
“It’s Not All Bad” – But That’s Not the Point
Defenders of MCO point to the Red Bull model and the City Football Group as success stories. And it’s true—players like Dominik Szoboszlai and Timo Werner came through Red Bull’s system, while City have developed elite talents through their global network.
But that’s precisely the issue. These aren’t football clubs anymore. They’re brands. They’re product lines. Their success has less to do with sport and more to do with data pipelines, financial leverage, and centralised control. And for every global empire that makes it work, there are smaller, hollowed-out clubs sacrificing soul for a seat at someone else’s table.
Conclusion
Multi-club ownership is football’s version of trickle-down economics. The wealth rarely reaches the bottom, and when it does, it comes with strings attached. In the EFL, where history and community still matter, that’s a bitter pill to swallow.
Fans don’t want to be part of a portfolio. They want to belong to a club. They want ambition that’s real, not borrowed. Until regulation catches up and transparency is enforced, MCO will remain a threat—not a future—to the integrity of English football.
