It's probably wrong to reference British culture from nearly 29 years ago, but it feels appropriate because this is a story about insecurities and mistakes.
In 1995, the late great comedian Caroline Ahern ran a parody talk show in which she played a character called Mrs Merton, an elderly woman from Manchester who asked famous people insincere and direct questions.
“So what first attracted you to millionaire Paul Daniels?” This was her famous opening to Debbie McGee, the aforementioned TV magician's glamorous assistant and wife.
Another version of this question was spinning around in my head as I tried to find common ground between the four case studies I did this week about men wanting to buy a football club.
So, Chris/Dawsey/William/Thomas, let's start with the fact that you get positive media coverage for weeks, if not months, and a flood of dopamine from the gratitude of strangers. What first attracted you to the cash business of securing real estate assets?
Because if you put it that way, you'll understand how addictive, good smokescreen and useful advertising a bid for a football club can be and why it's worth a try (and remove it if applicable). please).
This time I've chosen Chris Kirchner, Dozie Mmobuosi, William Storey and Thomas Ziliakas, but if the streaming giant is reading, before I fixate on Russell King and Henry, I'm going to go with the documentary along with Lawrence Bassini and Massimo Cellino. It could also flesh out Season 1 of the series. Maurice, Carson Yeong and David Hilton – the four men who bought Scunthorpe United last year – will appear in season two. They could also take requests, like a Bruce Springsteen concert.
But what does this seemingly bottomless pool of candidates say about English football? Nothing good comes of it, right?
Well, no, but it's important to note that none of the gentlemen we featured this week actually purchased the clubs they were openly pursuing. Some came closer than others, but all fell short.
People who want to buy a soccer club:
It should also be made clear that English football is not particularly weak. Kirchner also worked with professional golf and sponsored the NHL's Dallas Stars. Mmobuosi threw (other people's) money into Nigerian football. The biggest play in the story involved an F1 team. And whatever Ziliakas is planning to do, he's already done it with the Finnish and Singaporean soccer teams.
These are just foreign soccer teams and other sports that our not-so-famous four are targeting. Perhaps the most famous fraudulent takeover in sports involved the NHL's New York Islanders in the 1990s, but American fraudster Allen Stanford's attempt to buy England Cricket a decade later almost I'm sure it's a success.
And do we need to point out that cheating exists outside of sports? Charles Ponzi, anyone? Bernie Madoff? Anna Sorokin? Elizabeth Holmes? Sam Bankman Freed?
No country, no sport, no industry should be blamed here. Scammers are willing to scam anywhere, wherever they can.
Kirchner (left, with golfer Rory McIlroy) had interests beyond soccer (David Cannon/Getty Images)
But it would be a mistake to simply ignore the long list of bad players in English football and pretend it applies to this region. Our clubs may not be particularly vulnerable, but they are, and that's mainly because most of them are in the red.
If car companies, fashion brands, restaurants, etc. are no longer profitable, they will simply go out of business. Some of us may miss them for a while, but most of us will get over their death quickly.
On the other hand, football clubs are more than just businesses. Therefore, we do not just succumb to market forces, we fight to keep them alive. That makes them incredibly resilient.
But there are a lot of them, and most of them are for sale, and many of them are on the market as distressed assets. And guess what? There tend not to be many good buyers for these types of companies. A beggar cannot be a chooser.
So instead of asking why so many clubs attract scammers, dreamers or publicity seekers, we should be asking why so many clubs are being put up for sale in the first place. be. And when they go up for sale, why aren't they flooded with big offers from the most successful entrepreneurs and investors?
Solving the problem of game sustainability will also solve the problem of unsafe ownership. It would be nice if we didn't have to wait for an independent regulator to sort it out, but one of them is on the way, so the cavalry is coming.
But fairer financial distribution, cost controls and licensing systems will not eradicate all of football's vulnerabilities. Nor does it require a rigorous vetting process for potential owners. Of course it helps, but we're still dealing with humans, and sorry to break it to you, but humans are flawed.
More robust financial models, better warning systems, and stronger due diligence will not stop good owners from cheating. All the stories I can tell about thugs who tried to launder their ill-gotten gains at the turnstiles or set up homes on training grounds, and well-meaning businessmen who lost their minds in pursuit of glory and left. You can tell two people a story about. A club on the verge of bankruptcy.
Eliminating corrupt people may be difficult, but it is doable. It's much harder to find someone incompetent before they break things.
It could also dispense with NFL regulations altogether, effectively leaving the vetting of new entrants to owned clubs up to existing members — what former Premier League manager Richard Scudamore disparagingly called “the jib test.” Yes, but that would require British club owners to act like joint venture partners. I wish you the best.
But we can and must continue to strive to make our games more robust. That way, the next time there's an international break and a manager asks for a series about guys who tried and failed to buy clubs, I can't say yes. : “Well, I've done six of them this year. Take your pick.”
I love my job, but it shouldn't be this easy.
(Top photo: Adam Fassel)
