The Rise of Multi‑Club Ownership: How It’s Reshaping Soccer and Testing UEFA’s Rules
If you have followed soccer closely over the past decade, you know it is no exaggeration to say that investment groups have turned the sport into a global supply chain. Multi-club ownership models, MCOs, have gone from niche experiments to a defining trend in the industry, with more than three hundred clubs now tied into cross-border networks. The most notable examples? Red Bull has built a global web of clubs, from New York to Salzburg to Leipzig. City Football Group has gone even further, planting its flag across five continents, with a portfolio running from Melbourne to Montevideo to Manchester. Even relative newcomers to the game, Clearlake Capital, fresh off buying Chelsea, decided that instead of negotiating with Strasbourg for a single player, it would be more prudent to just purchase the entire club. Within the context of this progression, this piece delves into why investors are increasingly building these networks, how UEFA’s evolving rules attempt to keep them in check, and why those rules are simply not enough.
The appeal of multi‑club ownership is obvious when you follow the money. Owning more than one club allows investors to internalise scouting and youth development instead of paying inflated transfer fees. A promising teenager can move from a low‑pressure environment in Belgium or Uruguay to a flagship club in England or Germany without the risk of being lost in translation. Red Bull’s network pushes prospects from the New York Red Bulls to RB Salzburg to RB Leipzig, and City Football Group has smoothed a similar path from Montevideo to Manchester. These structures have proven to be incredibly successful on the pitch. For instance, since the rise of the Abu Dhabi United Group, Manchester City have experienced unprecedented success with a total of 23 major trophies across all competitions. These structures also serve to diversify risk: if one club has a poor transfer window or misses out on European competition, revenue from another can buffer the blow. From a business perspective, it is efficient for control; from a more sporting perspective, it pushes players and clubs even further into being pieces on a private chessboard rather than participants in a meritocratic competition.
Eventually, regulators had to take notice. UEFA’s Article Five once flatly banned clubs owned by the same entity from competing in the same continental tournament. For the 2024‑25 cycle, UEFA rewrote the rule to allow multiple clubs under common ownership to play in different competitions and created a workaround when both qualify for the Champions League. If two sister clubs reach the same competition, only one can stay unless the owners cede “decisive influence,” which is often done by dumping their shares into a so‑called “blind trust.” That is what happened when Manchester City and Girona both qualified for the 2024‑25 Champions League. City Football Group transferred its Girona shares to an independent trustee, resigned board seats, and agreed not to influence sporting decisions or player transfers. The same charade played out with INEOS, which relinquished control of OGC Nice so Manchester United could play in Europe. Only a cynic would point out that the same billionaire still enjoys the profits while the trustee keeps the seat warm.
UEFA’s new rules sound tough, but the impact on the Champions League will be messy. Red Bull Salzburg and RB Leipzig have already proved that cosmetic structural separation is enough to satisfy inspectors. Brighton and Union Saint‑Gilloise, AC Milan and Toulouse, and Aston Villa and Vitoria SC were all waved through last year after investors reduced voting rights and exited boards. While compliance officers pore over trust deeds, the real market distortions happen in the transfer market. Multi‑club groups can park players on lower‑tier teams to evade Financial Fair Play, as Porto did with David Carmo before shuttling him to Olympiacos. Stars such as Erling Haaland or Benjamin Šeško moved from Salzburg to Leipzig without a bidding war. Supporters should not be surprised if future Champions League squads are assembled via internal pipeline deals rather than open competition. As more investors like 777 Partners and BlueCo enter the scene, UEFA will need more than blindfolds to convince sceptics that the playing field remains level.
To be clear, multi‑club ownership is not some inherent evil, but along with its vastly publicized benefits, it is imperative to track its developments and consistently question how it tests the limits of sporting fairness. It offers smaller clubs access to infrastructure, coaching expertise, and loan pathways that would otherwise be out of reach. At the same time, it risks diluting local identities and creating conflicts of interest when two clubs from the same stable square off in a crucial match or competition. UEFA’s willingness to accommodate these structures, while rewriting rules and trusting billionaire investors to police themselves, shows where the balance of power lies. The next few years will determine whether the Champions League becomes a league of conglomerates or remains a contest of distinct clubs. Although stricter tests on “decisive influence” promised for 2025 sound encouraging, they will only matter if regulators are prepared to enforce them. As multi‑club ownership expands, fans should demand transparency and hold both owners and UEFA to account before football’s favourite competition becomes a franchised tournament in all but name.
