
September 2025 marks the start of the second season of the UEFA Champions League in its new format. It is a symbolic moment for the world of football, offering an opportunity to look back and consider what lies ahead. After turbulent years of discussion, tension, and trials of strength-from the fiasco of the Super League project to the implementation of reforms by UEFA-European club competitions are entering another phase of transformation. At the same time, a new competitor has appeared on the global horizon: in the summer of 2025, FIFA organized the first edition of the expanded Club World Cup with 32 teams participating. These parallel changes are no coincidence; they are the result of the inevitable process of football globalization, which is gaining momentum despite resistance from traditionalists.
The attempt to launch a closed Super League in 2021 shook European football, triggering a chain reaction of organizational and regulatory changes. The idea of a handful of the richest clubs breaking away from UEFA structures was met with massive opposition from fans, federations, and politicians, which ultimately halted the project. At the same time, however, it revealed tensions between the principle of sporting meritocracy and the commercial ambitions of the biggest clubs. As a result, a new order in club football took shape in the following years – the Champions League adopted a reformed format and significantly increased its revenues, FIFA introduced the Club World Cup on an unprecedented scale, and national regulators and EU institutions took action to protect the principles of the "European model of sport."
Let us take a look at each of these in turn: the record-breaking 2024/25 Champions League season and the financial significance of the new competition format, new court rulings, including those relating to the Super League, new regulations – from the UK's Independent Football Regulator Bill to the paradox of the European Commission's approach to media markets, the prospect of transnational leagues in the context of the FC Swift Hesperange case and its potential implications for the European model, American experiences such as the exemption of MLB from antitrust law, and what these examples mean for youth training and its possible commercialization, as well as more broadly for the dilemmas of financing and meritocracy in European club football.
The 2024/25 UEFA Champions League season proved to be groundbreaking in several respects. For the first time, a new competition format was introduced with a so-called "league phase" – 36 teams, each playing 8 matches against different opponents, replacing the previous group stage. This innovation, which was planned even before the Super League crisis, was intended to increase the attractiveness and unpredictability of the tournament by increasing the number of matches between clubs from different countries. Indeed, the first rounds of the league phase brought surprising results – for example, a 9-2 victory for one team, which, however, suffered a defeat in the next round. As Giorgio Marchetti of UEFA emphasized, the aim of the reform was to eliminate "boring," predetermined groups and ensure excitement until the end of the round – and the first season seems to confirm this greater competitiveness.
However, the most important was the attendance and global reach of the competition. The final of the 2024/25 edition took place on May 31, 2025, at the Allianz Arena in Munich, with Paris Saint-Germain and Inter Milan facing each other. The match ended with a sensational 5-0 victory for PSG – the highest triumph in the history of the European Cup/Champions League finals (the previous record was 4-0, last achieved in 1994). The Parisians won their first ever title, ending the long-standing dominance of clubs from England, Spain, Germany, and Italy – PSG became the first champion from outside these countries since FC Porto in 2004. Thanks to their victory, they secured not only a place in the next edition of the Champions League, but also promotion to new global arenas: the right to play in the 2025 Intercontinental Cup (a revived Europe-South America contest) and participation in the 2029 Club World Cup.
The broadcast of the final attracted a record audience. UEFA confirmed that the match was available in more than 200 territories around the world and was estimated to have attracted 460 million unique viewers, the most in the history of the competition. By comparison, the final of the previous edition (2023) was watched by approximately 450 million viewers, which already exceeded the global audience of the Super Bowl (approximately 155 million in 2024). This year's result therefore set a new record. Experts point out that such astronomical viewership is the result of the growing availability of matches thanks to streaming platforms and the broadcasting of the final on free-to-air television in key markets. The Champions League is now watched by hundreds of millions of people not only in Europe and South America, but also in Asia, Africa, and North America, making the Champions League final the most-watched sporting event in the world every year (i.e., excluding the World Cup final, which is held every four years), surpassing even the NFL finals. The average global audience for the final match – calculated as the number of simultaneous viewers – is estimated at approximately 120-150 million people (variable depending on the course of the match), which also places the Champions League higher than any single event in the US or Europe outside of soccer.
High viewership translated into record commercial revenues. According to official UEFA data, the new 2024–2027 marketing and television cycle saw a significant increase in revenues, which allowed for an approximately 20% increase in the prize pool for European cup participants compared to the previous cycle. The Champions League alone (together with the associated UEFA Super Cup) distributed approximately €2.467 billion among clubs for the 2024/25 season, compared to approximately €2.05 billion the previous year. The AS newspaper noted that UEFA "significantly increased the prize pool – by around €400 million more than in the previous edition." This translated into specific amounts for the clubs: just entering the new league phase guaranteed a €18.6 million starting bonus, and each victory in this phase was worth €2.1 million. For comparison, in the old format, participation in the group stage was valued at €15.6 million, and a win at €2.8 million – meaning that entering the competition became nearly 35% more valuable. In addition, UEFA increased the bonuses for advancing to subsequent rounds and introduced a new component, the so-called "value pillar," which distributes additional commercial revenue among clubs at the end of the season. As a result, the finalists of this year's edition exceeded €100 million in earnings from the Champions League alone: Inter Milan received a total of approximately €132 million, and PSG €140 million, including sports bonuses and participation in the market pool. For the winner, there was an additional bonus of €25 million for winning the final (previously €20 million) and qualification for lucrative events such as the aforementioned Club World Cup. The second finalist received a €15 million bonus for the final. Such large sums – not even counting revenue from tickets, match day or sponsorship – illustrate the financial gap between the Champions League and other club competitions. By comparison, the winner of the 2024/25 Europa League earned just over €30-40 million, and the Conference League around €20 million, which is several times less.
In summary, the Champions League after the reform has not only not lost its appeal, but has actually strengthened its position as a top football product. From the point of view of a medium-sized club investing in development and aspiring to play in the Champions League, the increase in the prize pool and global interest is an opportunity for a jump in revenue in the event of a successful campaign. At the same time, however, this raises questions about the distribution of finances down the pyramid and competitiveness – i.e., will the new hundreds of millions of euros also be transferred down the football pyramid, or will they rather increase disparities? We will return to these issues when analyzing models of financial solidarity and youth training. First, however, let us look at how UEFA officials justified the changes and defended traditional rules after the Super League crisis.
In April 2021, shortly after the announcement of the Super League, UEFA Deputy Secretary General Giorgio Marchetti reacted strongly to the concept of a "tournament for the rich with invitations." During a radio interview in Italy, Marchetti recalled the fundamental principle that guides European football: openness of competition and promotion based on sporting results. His words, often quoted in summary, were: "Super League? For us, those who deserve it participate, not those who have a name." This was a direct reference to plans to create a closed league in which clubs with big names would have a permanent place, regardless of their current results. Marchetti emphasized that the European model is based on open competition – every club, from the Luxembourg champion to the English giant, has the right to dream of playing in the Champions League if it earns it on the pitch. The UEFA reforms after 2021 (such as the new Champions League format from 2024) have not changed this: "the format has changed, not the qualification process," the official pointed out. Indeed, despite the addition of two "wild cards" in the new Champions League format, they are awarded not on the basis of the club's brand, but to the federations that performed best in the previous season's cups (the so-called European Performance Spot), which still rewards sporting results rather than historical prestige.
Marchetti's 2021 statement referred specifically to the idea of the Super League and constituted its categorical rejection. It was UEFA's voice saying: no to a closed club of the rich, yes to meritocracy and equal opportunity. It is worth noting that these words were spoken at a time when UEFA itself was reforming the Champions League – which did not escape the attention of critics. Initially, it was planned that two additional teams in the new format would receive a place thanks to their high UEFA coefficient, even if they had slipped up in their domestic league. This provision smacked of a "back door for deserving companies" – something that, in the eyes of the public, threatened to expose the hypocrisy of UEFA proclaiming the primacy of sporting merit. Ultimately, under pressure from fans and league associations, among others, UEFA changed this provision: from 2024, the additional places will go to the countries that scored the best in the previous season (in 2024/25, England and the Netherlands benefited from this). This allowed Marchetti to say with a clear conscience that the Champions League remains open and accessible to everyone through results on the pitch, which "the world of football has made clear" by rejecting the Super League.
This statement is part of a broader narrative of defending the "European model of sport" adopted by UEFA and public authorities after 2021. In this model, the most important elements are: the pyramid of national leagues, promotion and relegation, the possibility of David playing Goliath at the top, and financial solidarity between the rich and the poorer. In 2021, Marchetti acted as a voice for this tradition. His words condemned the Super League as a project "inappropriate for European football." It is worth noting that a similar position was taken at the time by political institutions – the European Parliament and the Commission – which also declared their support for open competitions and the solidarity model. All this created a climate in which the rebellion of the top clubs was stopped. However, a side effect was also the strengthening of UEFA's position as the guardian of its monopoly on organizing competitions, which in turn became the subject of legal battles, as discussed below. First, let's look at the regulatory actions at the national and EU levels that arose in the wake of opposition to the Super League.
One of the most concrete effects of the "Super League war" was legislative changes in the United Kingdom. In 2021, shortly after the collapse of the ESL project, the British government established the Fan-Led Review, an independent commission chaired by MP Tracey Crouch, to review the football governance model. The commission's report (published at the end of 2021) recommended the establishment of an independent football regulator to oversee the financial stability of clubs, vet owners and, crucially, have the right to veto attempts by English clubs to join competitions created outside the official structures (thus effectively blocking potential "Super Leagues" in the future). After some delays, in the first half of 2025, the UK government pushed the relevant bill through parliament. The Football Governance Act 2025 was passed in July 2025, becoming a historic milestone for English football. Described as "the biggest governance reform in generations," the Act establishes an Independent Football Regulator (IFR) with broad powers.
The new regulator will license clubs from the Premier League to the National League and monitor their financial condition. Its task is to "ensure that clubs are financially sustainable in the long term," which will be achieved through new capital requirements and budget controls, among other measures. The IFR will also introduce enhanced Owners' and Directors' Tests to prevent unsuitable individuals or those using illegal funds from managing clubs. From the fans' point of view, the key provisions are those that give them greater influence over club decisions (e.g., on traditional colors, stadium relocation, or changes to symbols—the regulator will protect the "heritage" of clubs). However, the most direct legacy of the Super League scandal is the article of the bill prohibiting clubs from participating in breakaway competitions: the IFR will have the right to block a club from participating in a closed, “breakaway” league that does not meet the criteria recognized by the regulator ( ). In practice, this means legislative protection against a repeat of the situation when six leading English clubs wanted to secretly join the international Super League. Now, such a move could result in sanctions and even the revocation of the club's license by the IFR. The law also obliges the regulator to ensure "fair financial distribution between leagues" – i.e., for example, to bring about (in the event of a deadlock) a new system of money distribution between the Premier League and the lower leagues (which has been the subject of dispute for years).
Paradoxically, while the UK – now outside the EU – is implementing such decisive measures to protect the football pyramid and fans, at the European Union level we are faced with a certain contradiction of principles. On the one hand, EU institutions declare their commitment to the "European model of sport" and oppose separatism (the European Commission sided with UEFA in the Super League dispute). On the other hand, however, EU law has for years also been promoting the principle of a single market and the removal of barriers between countries – which conflicts with the current way of organizing the sports media market based on territorial division. The European Commission has historically accepted (and even protected) the model of selling television rights separately in each country by football federations or league consortia, even though it divides the single market into national segments. This state of affairs was challenged in the high-profile Murphy case before the Court of Justice of the EU. In its 2011 judgment (Case C-403/08), the CJEU ruled that the practice of selling rights in such a way as to "segment the EU market according to national borders" is contrary to the principle of free movement of goods and services within the Union. Although the case concerned Premier League broadcasts, its implications were broader: purely territorial media exclusivity conflicts with the idea of a single digital market. After that ruling, there was much talk about the advent of "cross-border" sports subscriptions and the possibility for consumers to choose the cheapest offer in the EU. However, more than 12 years have passed, and the territorial model in football has not changed much in practice – with the tacit consent of the Commission. Why? It was argued that this was necessary to protect the value of rights and the financing of sport at the national level. In other words, the European Commission did not push for full liberalization of the sports broadcasting market, fearing that richer markets could dominate the broadcast. For example, if a single pan-European broadcaster bought the rights to the Champions League and offered them throughout the EU, it could bypass local television stations and potentially charge higher fees to viewers in smaller countries – which could limit the availability of broadcasts in Bulgaria or Lithuania, for example. The EU therefore allows exceptions to the internal market rule in the name of "cultural and media diversity." However, this state of affairs is somewhat paradoxical: the EU obliges countries to remove barriers, while at the same time defending geographical barriers to the distribution of sports products. What is more, it also defends national competition structures, contrary to the idea of the free movement of services, which could support the vision of transnational leagues.
This paradox is best illustrated by the Commission's position in recent years: it officially promotes a model based on strong national leagues and the principle of territoriality (e.g., by speaking out against clubs moving to other countries or against merging leagues without the consent of the federation). At the same time, EU competition law is a tool that gives other entities the opportunity to challenge organizational monopolies. So we see that the EU is somewhat torn – it supports UEFA in its fight against the Super League (referring to the specific nature of sport and its social functions), but it must also uphold competition and the free provision of services. In the next section, we will look at this dilemma from the perspective of the latest legal challenges that have arisen in the wake of the Super League case – because after it, a potential "new Bosman" is looming on the horizon, which could revolutionize the very structure of the leagues.
The 1995 Bosman ruling revolutionized the transfer market by removing restrictions on changing clubs after the expiry of a contract and prohibiting limits on foreign players within the EU. Now, three decades later, another case is coming before the European courts that could equally profoundly change the face of football in Europe – this time concerning the organization of transnational competitions. The initiator is a small club from Luxembourg, FC Swift Hesperange, which has decided to challenge the rules that prevent it from joining forces with clubs from other countries. Swift Hesperange, the current Luxembourg vice-champion, argues that the "territorial model of football imposed by UEFA" limits its development opportunities and violates EU law.
On June 21, 2022, Swift filed a request with the Luxembourg court for a preliminary ruling by the EU Court of Justice, challenging several key rules governing European football. First, it challenged a UEFA rule (also adopted in the regulations of the national federation FLF) prohibiting clubs from creating and managing cross-border competitions without the consent of UEFA/FIFA. Such a ban effectively prevents, for example, the creation of a joint Luxembourg-Belgian league or the participation of a Luxembourg club in the league structure of another country. Swift argues that this is a monopolistic practice that violates Article 101 TFEU (prohibition of agreements restricting competition) and constitutes an abuse of UEFA's dominant position (Article 102 TFEU), as well as a restriction on the freedom to provide services (Article 56 TFEU). In other words, the club claims that UEFA cannot legally prohibit alternative competitions if they also fulfill a league function, as this would be tantamount to a cartel controlling the football competition market in Europe.
Secondly, Swift Hesperange raised the issue of regulations on locally trained players ("home-grown players"). UEFA requires that the squad for European cups include at least four players trained at the club and four in the same country. Similar limits apply in the Luxembourg national league. According to the complainants, such quotas restrict the free movement of workers (Article 45 TFEU) and may also violate Article 101 TFEU if they are the result of an agreement between clubs/federations restricting competition in the talent market.
Thirdly, Swift challenged a specific "return rule" in Luxembourg, according to which a player returning to the Luxembourg league after playing abroad can only sign a contract with his previous club in Luxembourg. Such a rule obviously drastically restricts freedom of transfer – the club argues that this is a clear violation of the free movement of workers in the EU.
Finally, fourthly, the FLF rule prohibiting Luxembourg clubs from transforming themselves into commercial companies (they have had to operate as non-profit associations until now) has been criticized. According to the complainants, this restricts the freedom of establishment and the free movement of capital (Article 63 TFEU).
Although the Swift Hesperange case is still at the preliminary ruling stage and awaiting consideration by the CJEU, it is already attracting a great deal of interest. Many observers describe it as a potential "second Bosman" that could open Pandora's box of cross-border leagues in Europe. What could happen if the Court rules in favor of the Luxembourg club?
First of all, a ban on creating transnational competitions could be considered unlawful under competition law. This would mean that clubs (especially those from smaller countries) could legally organize alternative leagues across borders. Imagine, for example, a merger of the Belgian and Dutch leagues (the so-called BeNeLiga project), which has been discussed for years by clubs from these countries seeking higher television revenues. Or a Baltic or Central European league, or – perhaps even more exciting – the possibility of Scottish giants (Celtic, Rangers) joining the English league. Until now, UEFA has been the guardian of order, where one federation = one national league (with a few historical exceptions, such as Welsh clubs playing in England). However, if lawyers were to win the argument about UEFA's "monopoly," national borders could cease to be a rigid barrier. For medium-sized clubs from small markets, this could be a tempting opportunity: participation in a larger, regional league would mean access to a wider audience and bigger TV contracts than modest domestic deals. For example, the top clubs in Scotland or Scandinavia could earn many times more in a cross-border league than at home.
However, the other side of the coin is the potential disruption of the traditional model and risks for less affluent clubs. If the best players "escape" to new joint leagues, domestic competitions may lose their appeal and funding, which would hit smaller clubs in those leagues and local fans. For example, there has been talk for years about merging the Swiss and Austrian leagues – but what about the rest of the clubs that don't make the cut? Won't they fall by the wayside? UEFA and national associations warn that transnational leagues could weaken football in places that are left out. On the other hand, supporters point out that in the era of globalization, soccer is becoming less and less "national" anyway – top clubs sell TV rights globally, and the country of origin plays a secondary role.
The impact on the media market is also significant. If leagues covering several countries were created, TV rights would probably be sold in cross-border packages. This could increase the overall value (more interested viewers = higher price). But at the same time, breaking up national packages could change the balance of power among broadcasters – large international platforms (e.g., streaming giant DAZN or Amazon) would gain an advantage over traditional national television stations. This trend is already visible today: DAZN has acquired the global rights to the 2025 Club World Cup, which it then sublicenses to various stations . Perhaps transnational leagues would encourage further platformization of sports broadcasting – which for fans means greater coverage on the one hand, but potentially higher costs on the other (several subscriptions to purchase).
It should be remembered that the CJEU has already once – in a recent ruling on the Super League (December 2022, opinion of the Advocate General; July 2023 final judgment) – recognized UEFA's right to be the exclusive organizer of official competitions and to sanction clubs that organize competing competitions without proper authorization. However, this verdict was made in a very specific context: it concerned a closed league of major sports brands competing with the Champions League and operating within the same market niche. The Court confirmed at the time that FIFA and UEFA could protect the integrity of sport and the principle of open access to competitions, even if they acted as a kind of "guardian" and, at the same time, the biggest beneficiaries of the entire system.
At the same time, the CJEU pointed out that the powers of these federations are not unlimited: they may exercise their dominant position only on condition that their rules on the admission of competing competitions meet the criteria of transparency, objectivity, non-discrimination, and proportionality in relation to the objectives they are intended to serve. The grounds for the judgment emphasized the unique nature of sport and the need for central coordination of international competitions, which was supposed to justify the above-mentioned special powers of UEFA and FIFA.
The Swift Hesperange case, on the other hand, touches on a slightly different issue – the creation of new league structures across national borders, potentially in agreement with local federations (e.g., if Luxembourg and Belgium wanted to run a single league together, as was once planned). In this context, the argument of "protecting open competition" may actually have the opposite effect to that in the case of the Super League. The current system confines clubs within national borders (or supranational structures such as UEFA), which limits their ability to compete for fans and sponsors in a wider, international market. Clubs such as Swift Hesperange therefore argue: let us compete across borders, otherwise we will always be condemned to the periphery. This is a strictly free-market view, contrasting with concerns about maintaining the coherence and stability of the existing competition system.
Either way, from the perspective of both smaller clubs in big leagues and larger clubs in smaller leagues, the problem is complex. On the one hand, a transnational league could be an opportunity for sporting and financial development—for example, clubs from countries such as Scotland, the Netherlands, the Nordic countries, and the Balkans could compete with stronger teams in larger joint leagues and earn more than they do at home. On the other hand, this would require abandoning traditional structures and the risks associated with a new order. The community model assumes solidarity and balance between regions – what would remain of it if restrictions on the creation of leagues were relaxed? Perhaps there would be consolidation – the strongest clubs from smaller countries would break away from the weaker ones at home and join their stronger neighbors, while the rest would be left behind.
Ultimately, decisions on this issue will likely be made at the intersection of law and politics. In September 2025, the European Commission launched consultations on a new strategy for sport, announcing the strengthening of the European model of sport. This is a signal that Brussels wants to defend the existing order – that is, the pyramid, solidarity, and national identity of leagues. It will likely seek to develop a legal framework that will allow UEFA and national leagues to adapt to the new times (e.g., perhaps looser forms of cooperation between leagues, joint regional cups) without turning the table upside down. The Swift Hesperange case will therefore be a test: will EU law open the door to football globalization at the league level, or will the argument of the "specific nature of sport" and the preservation of structures for the common good prevail? Perhaps the key to the solution would be a reform of financial fair play and distribution—a topic that ties in with the next thread: what lessons can be learned from the American experience and what economists such as Stefan Szymański propose.
When comparing European football to American sports leagues, the diametrically different approaches to competition and regulation are often pointed out. The US has private, closed leagues such as the NFL, NBA, and MLB, which from a European perspective resemble the concept of the Super League – no relegation, a limited number of franchises, territorial division of the market, and systems ensuring financial balance (salary cap, draft). In this context, it is worth looking at two important legal cases from the US: the antitrust exemption for Major League Baseball (MLB) and the NCAA v. Alston case concerning "amateur" university sports. Both show how far (or close) the tolerance of monopolies in sport can go, and at the same time provide a valuable lesson for Europe.
Major League Baseball enjoys a unique status in the United States – for over a century, it has been largely exempt from antitrust laws. In 1922, the US Supreme Court unanimously ruled in Federal Baseball Club v. National League that the baseball league was not subject to federal antitrust laws because the organization of baseball games did not constitute interstate commerce (sic!). Then-Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes ruled that baseball was merely "local entertainment," and that the movement of teams between states was a secondary phenomenon. This ruling—surprising today, given the nationwide reach of MLB—became the foundation of baseball's so-called antitrust immunity. The result? MLB became a legal monopolist and monopsonist in the US professional baseball market. It was the only sports league to receive complete protection from antitrust laws, allowing its owners to control the entire sport for decades without fear of competition.
The effects of this privilege were far-reaching. For example, MLB was able to block the creation of rival leagues – anyone who tried (such as the Federal League in 1913–1915) ultimately lost, because MLB could legally enter into agreements excluding competitors (which in other industries would violate the Sherman Act). As a result, no alternative "super league" has been created in baseball to this day: there have never been two parallel top leagues competing for fans, as was the case, for example, in American football (the AFL competing with the NFL in the 1960s). In addition, MLB has long enforced a strict player reservation clause, binding players to clubs for years and suppressing free agency—which was possible because players could not effectively sue the league for monopolistic practices. It was only pressure from unions and strikes in the 1970s that changed this reality, but MLB still operates differently in many areas than other leagues, which must comply with antitrust law. Interestingly, other leagues (NFL, NBA, NHL) have never been granted such blanket immunity – they have to negotiate certain exemptions (e.g., joint central sales of TV rights were legalized in 1961 by a special law – the Sports Broadcasting Act). Baseball, on the other hand, has enjoyed absolute protection for decades. The Supreme Court did consider the case twice more (Toolson v. Yankees 1953, Flood v. Kuhn 1972), but in both cases upheld the precedent in the name of respect for tradition and with the argument that Congress should make the changes if it so desired. In the Flood case (1972), Justice Harry Blackmun called the earlier rulings "aberrations limited to baseball" – in other words, he acknowledged that this was a departure from general principles, but since Congress was silent, baseball retained its exception.
It was not until 1998 that the US Congress passed the Curt Flood Act, which partially repealed MLB's immunity – but only in relation to players (labor issues). Since then, baseball players have had the right to sue the league under antitrust laws, as in other sports, but this has not had much practical significance, as the issue of "free agency" has been resolved through collective bargaining agreements with the unions (MLBPA). In other respects (e.g., league structure, relations with independent clubs, territorial franchise rights), MLB's antitrust shield remained intact. To this day, MLB has the freedom to, for example, eliminate farm teams (which it did in 2020, reducing the number of affiliated MiLB clubs from 160 to 120 – the remaining clubs were stripped of their farm status, which led to a lawsuit, but the courts dismissed it on the grounds of immunity). The league can also block clubs from moving to markets reserved for other franchises – this is why, for example, there is still no second MLB team in the New York area (apart from the Yankees and Mets), because antitrust law does not force MLB to allow a competitor.
Why is this important in the European context? Well, the Super League model was very similar to American leagues – a closed cartel of the best, sharing influence and not allowing competition from outside. However, unlike MLB, these clubs did not have immunity – on the contrary, they faced lawsuits and sanctions for violating UEFA rules and possibly competition law (if they tried to exclude others). If Europe wanted an "American" competition structure, it would have to make fundamental legal changes. MLB shows that a monopoly in sport can work, but it was granted historically in the US and remains controversial to this day (in recent years, politicians have again called for its abolition, e.g., in the context of club relocation or conditions in lower leagues). For medium-sized European clubs, American examples are a warning: a closed monopoly primarily protects the strongest players in the market. If there is no legal mechanism in place, it is difficult to expect them to act for the common good. For decades, MLB had no incentive to share its profits outside a narrow circle; on the contrary, it was able to dictate terms to the entire sport. In the context of the Super League, this would probably mean no promotion mechanisms (or only symbolic, invitation-based ones) and an even greater concentration of wealth in the hands of the founders.
The paradox is that it was the Super League—in essence, a fairly closed cartel and potential monopolist—that won a partial victory before the CJEU and the court in Madrid. The court ruled that the UEFA and FIFA rules, which gave them unlimited power to block new competitions, were contrary to competition law. It was not that the Super League itself was deemed lawful – the CJEU did not approve the project in its entirety. However, it found that the institutional mechanisms of UEFA and FIFA were disproportionate and non-transparent, and thus violated the basic rules of the common market. Thus, in order to defend the integrity of the system, UEFA was forced to revise its regulations and adopt transparent criteria for authorizing new competitions.
This reversal of roles is striking: the closed league project was saved by free market principles, which by definition are supposed to promote openness and pluralism. The Super League, seen as a threat to sporting meritocracy, gained a legal tool precisely because its opponents – UEFA and FIFA – themselves engaged in monopolistic practices in practice. For medium-sized clubs, this is a lesson in the duality of competition law: it protects against abuses of dominance, but does not guarantee that weaker players will benefit from it. On the contrary, sometimes it is the strongest who can turn the rules of the free market to their advantage if they adapt the form of their projects accordingly.
The second American case is NCAA v. Alston, which ended with a ruling by the US Supreme Court in June 2021. For over a century, the NCAA (National Collegiate Athletic Association) has managed university sports, including lucrative basketball and American football competitions, based on the premise of complete amateurism among student-athletes. Despite generating millions in revenue for universities and the NCAA, until recently, these athletes were not allowed to receive any compensation or benefits beyond a scholarship. The NCAA defended this model by citing tradition and arguing that "fans prefer pure amateur sports." The NCAA regulations constituted a de facto cartel restriction on wages—no university could offer more because of the threat of sanctions. A case brought by former athletes (including Shawne Alston) challenged the legality of these restrictions as contrary to antitrust law. Judges at all levels ruled in favor of the athletes.
The Supreme Court unanimously found that the NCAA had engaged in anti-competitive practices, even limiting educational benefits (such as laptops and course fees) for players. Although the Alston ruling was narrowly worded—it concerned educational benefits—in practice it opened the door to further commercialization, because in their reasoning, the judges sent a clear message: "The NCAA is not above the law." In particular, Justice Brett Kavanaugh, in a widely publicized concurring opinion in , stated that the NCAA's business model of not paying players would be simply illegal in any other sector (in his words, "the NCAA's business model would be outright illegal in almost any other industry"). He compared the NCAA's actions to restaurateurs colluding to underpay chefs or law firms setting maximum salaries for lawyers — which would be a clear violation of antitrust law.
After this ruling, the NCAA effectively lost the moral and legal basis for continuing to block any form of remuneration for student athletes. Just a few weeks later, under pressure from new lawsuits and state regulations, the NCAA allowed athletes to earn money from their name and image rights (NIL) – which had previously been strictly prohibited. Today, American students can legally sign advertising contracts, and many of them earn six-figure sums, which was unthinkable just a few years ago. The Alston case shows that even a long-standing monopoly arrangement (the NCAA acted as a monopoly organizing the market and setting the rules for remuneration) can eventually be dismantled if it violates the principles of competition and fairness. The US Supreme Court did not buy the NCAA's argument that "amateurism is a tradition that must be protected" – it considered it a label masking a simple wage restriction.
What does this American lesson mean for Europe? Certain analogies can be drawn. UEFA and the leagues also often refer to tradition and the special nature of sport when defending their rules (e.g., Financial Fair Play, licensing system, ban on owning multiple clubs, etc.) or opposing new ideas such as the Super League. The NCAA case teaches us that the courts' patience with "traditional" restrictions is not unlimited – if these restrictions harm the participants in the competition. In European football, both clubs and players are "participants." Bosman already showed that restricting the freedom of player transfers in the name of the old order did not last because it violated treaty freedoms. Similarly, possible hard salary caps or other cartel activities by clubs may not pass the legal test unless there is clear justification for exceptions (but again, the NCAA also claimed that without amateurism, the product would lose its appeal, which the court rejected due to lack of evidence). It is important for clubs in Europe to be aware that competition law can be an ally in the fight against powerful entities – as students against the NCAA – but it can also work the other way around, strengthening the free market at the expense of protective mechanisms (as we saw with Bosman – good for players, but small clubs lost transfer fees after the contract).
All in all, the American examples show two extremes: MLB – a protected monopoly, NCAA – a broken monopoly. European football stands somewhere in the middle, with UEFA as a monopolist in the organization of cups (currently legally accepted due to the community role of sport) and with increasing pressure for liberalization (access to leagues, transfer freedom, media freedom). The optimal solution, although obviously heterogeneous in approach and therefore difficult in terms of ideology and concept, seems to be a mixture: we do not want total unregulated commercialism (because it favors the strongest monopolies), but we also do not want ossification under the banner of tradition, which stifles development and investment. In this spirit, it is worth taking a critical look at the proposals of economists such as Stefan Szymański – who often refers to American solutions – concerning the future of European football, especially in the areas of finance and youth training.
Stefan Szymański, professor of sports economics and co-author of the widely discussed book Soccernomics, has been analyzing the weaknesses and paradoxes of European football for years. He is known for his rather liberal, market-oriented approach, which often contrasts with the rhetoric of football activists. Szymański has often pointed out that many regulations in football (such as Financial Fair Play or transfer restrictions) are in fact tools to protect the position of big clubs under the guise of "balance" or "solidarity." He also pointed out that European football is already highly commercialized and unequal—the rich usually win anyway—so attempts to artificially curb the market are often ineffective and sometimes harmful. In the context of post-crisis (post-Super League) discussions, Szymański proposed a bolder opening of football to the principles of competition. However, his approach has been criticized for underestimating certain community values, such as investment in local youth or the need to redistribute funds to keep the sport alive at lower levels.
Let's take a look at the issues of youth training and the transfer market, because this is where Szymański's vision clashes with the traditional European approach. Currently, Europe has a system in which a club training a young player counts on two main benefits: either the player will strengthen its first team (in terms of sport), or he will be sold for a significant amount (in terms of finance). For many clubs, especially medium-sized and smaller ones, the transfer of their young players is essential for their survival. For example, in 2023, AEK Athens sold young striker Orkun Köksü to Benfica for several million euros, which saved its budget; in Poland, clubs such as Lech Poznań and Legia Warsaw regularly boost their budgets by selling talented players abroad. This system is sometimes referred to as an element of market solidarity: money flows from rich clubs buying players to less affluent academies that discover and train those players. However, Szymański points out that this mechanism is narrow and random. According to research cited in a report for the European Commission, only 1.84% of transfer fees go to clubs as so-called solidarity fees for training (according to FIFA rules). And even if you add the direct profits from the sale of players, most of the transfer money still circulates among the biggest clubs in the top leagues. Clubs from lower leagues or less affluent countries get crumbs – if they happen to nurture a gem. Szymański argues that relying on the transfer lottery is a poor model for financing training. He emphasizes that talent development is, to a certain extent, a matter of chance – a few clubs “hit the jackpot” by selling a teenager for tens of millions, while most will never see such a windfall, even though they also invest in academies. Such a system can lead to frustration and a reluctance to invest: why spend hundreds of thousands of euros a year on an academy when the chance of hitting the jackpot is slim? Szymański therefore suggests that solidarity should not be based solely on transfers – it should take more systematic forms (e.g., solidarity funds distributed more evenly). From a purely economic efficiency point of view, paying huge sums for individual talents is a waste – it would be better if these funds were used for training in general.
However, there is a counterargument here: in the current model, it works – because we see clubs across Europe investing in academies like never before. According to a 2020 UEFA report, the total expenditure of top league clubs on youth training is around €870 million per year, and since 2010, UEFA solidarity payments to non-cup academies have also tripled (to €139 million per year in 2019). More than 1,600 clubs have received support from these funds over the decade. It seems that clubs – even those that rarely sell players for high prices – are building training infrastructure anyway, because it is required by licenses and the hope of developing their own players. In countries such as Belgium, Croatia, and Serbia, the export of players is actually the main branch of the football "industry." The average club in such countries often survives by selling players to richer ones. If suddenly there were no possibility of obtaining a large transfer fee (e.g., because a free market without transfer fees was introduced, as some suggest), would such a club still invest several percent of its budget in its academy? And what about the investments already made? Szymański and other economists argue that this is how it should be – that the rich should then voluntarily or top-down share their resources to finance training at the bottom. But can we count on that? FFP practice has shown that the rich are more likely to exploit their advantages than to voluntarily give up funds.
Szymański criticized UEFA's Financial Fair Play as a mechanism for ossifying the hierarchy – limiting clubs' spending to their revenues closes the door to ambitious mid-table clubs with an injection of investment (e.g., a club cannot spend more than it earns, so it is more difficult for it to "catch up" with the leaders even with the support of a new investor). He pointed out that FFP favors established powerhouses because it freezes advantages (the rich will always be richer, so they will spend more on better players. This protects existing powerhouses from new competition (example: Red Bull had to patiently build Leipzig, it couldn't just pump hundreds of millions into it at the start). As a liberal, Szymański would probably lean towards loosening such regulations – let the market decide who invests how much, because this will stimulate competition.
However, it should be noted that Szymański does not ignore the need for a certain degree of solidarity. In his analysis of the transfer system, he pointed out that the current regulations (such as youth training fees and solidarity payments for international transfers) are ineffective and marginal. He believed that “solidarity should not be limited to the valuation of young talents produced for big clubs.” He argued that big clubs benefit from all levels of competition (because the entire league ladder and mass football create talent and fans), so support should be broader than just payment for individual transfers. It is difficult to disagree with this. Europe has even been taking some steps recently: in addition to the aforementioned UEFA funds, FIFA is also increasing payments to clubs for their players' participation in the World Cup (in 2026, as much as $355 million will be transferred to clubs for sending players to the World Cup). This is a form of global solidarity – because every club, even a small one, will get a piece of the pie if it has trained a representative. Similarly, the new 2025 Club World Cup has a huge prize pool ($1 billion), part of which, i.e. $250 million, is theoretically also to go to non-participating clubs.
Therefore, a better way than a revolutionary liberalization of the transfer market (e.g., abolishing fees and contracts only to be fulfilled, as was previously proposed in the spirit of Bosman) may be the evolution of existing solidarity mechanisms: increasing the amounts for academies, creating support funds for infrastructure development, bonuses for home-grown players in the squad, etc. UEFA already requires clubs to invest in training (licenses) and encourages them to field young players (List B in cup competitions). The commercialization of the training process – in a purely market sense – could, in an extreme scenario, lead to the richest clubs taking over this role: e.g., top clubs create global satellite academies and "suck up" talent as young as 12-14, paying parents or smaller schools, instead of waiting for someone else to train them, while the rest expect parents to pay for training. This is already happening to some extent: the system of poaching teenagers, although FIFA regulations are trying to limit it, and independent academies operating strictly for profit. Such a model operates, for example, in the USA in youth basketball (AAU circuits). But in soccer in Europe, clubs have traditionally been the center of talent development, often linked to local communities. Commercialization to the extreme can create a conflict of interest: do we train for trophies and community, or just for transfers?
Medium-sized clubs have become veritable factories for footballers – for example, Benfica Lisbon has earned hundreds of millions of euros in the last decade from the sale of its youth players (João Félix, Rúben Dias, Ederson, etc.), reinvesting in infrastructure. To a certain extent, this process is positive because it promotes the professionalization of training. Of course, care must be taken to ensure that the pursuit of profit does not supplant the sporting mission. If every young player is seen only through the prism of their potential price tag, clubs may neglect those who show less promise but could be valuable to local football.
Therefore, despite all the valuable proposals, our minor criticism of Szymański's position would be as follows: we agree that the current system of solidarity in football is imperfect and often hypocritical (the rich talk about solidarity, but share only a modest fraction of their profits). We support proposals to increase real support for training in poorer regions – for example, through top-down UEFA/FIFA funds from major events. However, we do not support the complete liberalization of the rules without safeguards, as this may have the opposite effect: the strongest will dominate the talent market even more easily, and mid-sized clubs will lose their advantage (which today includes the right to compensation for training or a percentage of the next transfer of a player they have trained). In other words, it is better to fix the system than to destroy it.
Szymański rightly points out that rich clubs benefit from the existence of a large pool of players trained outside their structures and that transfers are currently a flawed tool of redistribution (random and small). The question would therefore be, if not transfers, what would replace them?
Hypothetically, one way could be, for example, to introduce in Europe – following the example of American leagues – draft-type compensation mechanisms (the best juniors go to weaker clubs) or broader sharing of television revenues. However, these solutions, in turn, undermine market freedom and would meet with resistance from the big players (it is difficult to imagine Real or Bayern giving up their rights to select the best young players to anyone else). In practice, therefore, the search for balance continues.
Otherwise, we risk drifting towards a purely market-based model, where only a narrow elite survives at the top, and the "average" clubs become talent suppliers and the backdrop to the spectacle. Paradoxically, even some big clubs do not want this – because without the element of unpredictability and without fans across Europe living in hope of a “Cinderella promotion,” football will lose some of its charm, and this may be followed by a decline in fan engagement (and thus business value). As Szymański once noted, the culture of promotion and relegation is something that distinguishes European football and drives emotions. Even if the NFL model (where clubs are closed partners) is economically tempting, Europe remains different in terms of sport and society.
It therefore seems that the solution is evolution rather than revolution: adapting to globalization (e.g., new international club competitions), increasing transparency and redistribution—but at the same time nurturing the values that make people in a small town somewhere in Belgium or Croatia continue to invest their hearts and money in their club.
The new order after the Super League is still taking shape. The Champions League has grown and is shining with record viewership and finances, which is good news, but it also forces us to think about the responsible distribution of this success. FIFA, with its expanded Club World Cup, is joining the game for influence, tempting clubs with huge prizes and promising a "golden age of club football" thanks to globalization. National politicians (as in England) and EU authorities are taking initiatives to, as they proclaim, tame the forces of commerce and protect football as a public good. In the background, legal battles are raging – Swift Hesperange is challenging the territorial order, and the echoes of the Bosman, Murphy, and Alston rulings remind us that football is not beyond the reach of the law and justice.
The key to all this is finding a balance between liberalization and solidarity. We want to be able to compete with the best – on the pitch and economically – without artificial barriers, but we also do not want a world where all inequalities are exacerbated and the rich dictate terms without any control. We are interested both in the possibility of increasing revenues and promoting investment in sport (because this may allow us to challenge the powerhouses in the long term) and in preserving a system where youth training, local identity, and the fan's dream that "tomorrow may be our day of glory" still matter.
The history of the Super League has shown the power of fan opposition and community values. Europe has responded by strengthening the idea of sporting meritocracy and attempting to improve existing competitions, rather than creating new ones at the behest of investment banks. But the temptation of the "American dream" in football has not disappeared – it can be seen, for example, in behind-the-scenes talks about national league matches played overseas, in the growing influence of funds from the Persian Gulf or the US in European clubs, or in ideas such as "wild cards" for historic brands. The world of soccer is therefore faced with a choice: will it be possible to reform the system from within to make it more attractive and profitable, and at the same time fairer, or will there be further attempts by dissatisfied market players to overturn the table?
This essay argues that there is room for conscious, balanced reform. The Champions League can flourish if it remembers its roots – including those in the small clubs that once shone in it (such as the unexpected semi-finals of Ajax and Villarreal). The Club World Cup can be an opportunity, not a threat, as long as the profits from it do not conflict with the needs of football development around the world. Perhaps there is even hope that regulators can help restore the balance between business and the fan community. And competition law – although it sounds dry – can be an ally of football if it is applied with the specific nature of the sport in mind: promoting openness and mobility, but condemning monopolistic and cartel abuses, whether committed by UEFA, a big club, or another actor.
I believe that a community model is possible. That private investment can go hand in hand with the public interest – if sensible rules of the game are introduced. That sporting meritocracy can be reconciled with economics – if the biggest players understand that in the long run it pays for them to share a slice of the pie so that the whole spectacle remains exciting. And that fans will still be able to dream of David defeating Goliath, because that is the spice of football. It is up to the clubs, activists, institutions, and fans to decide whether we will improve this European model or allow it to be replaced by a transnational sports entertainment corporation. The Super League lesson has taught us that it is worth defending our values – and at the same time not to be afraid of necessary changes. The future will show whether we have learned our lesson.