FIFA, Infantino, Messi and the World Cup for sale
Barely had the 2026 World Cup finished before FIFA President Gianni Infantino, a close friend of Donald Trump, was proposing to sell to private investors (financial profiteers) a stake in the business behind FIFA’s tournaments. Broadcasting, sponsorship, ticketing and hospitality would be brought together in a commercial enterprise, opening another route for capital to draw profit from the ‘beautiful game’, the world’s most popular sport. For supporters, the World Cup is supposed to be football’s greatest occasion. For those controlling it, it is a saleable asset whose earning potential feels limitless.
Spain’s 1–0 victory over Argentina after extra time ended the spectacle and settled who lifted the trophy. Even though Argentina lost, it did not settle the questions raised during Argentina’s run, or the much bigger question hanging over the tournament: who does the modern World Cup actually serve?
Football should belong to the fans: the people who live and breathe the 'beautiful game' and pass that passion on to their children – the next generation of fans or, in the eyes of FIFA, the continuation of profit.
FIFA controls the competition and sells access to it. Its leadership presents commercial expansion as progress for football, but the interests of supporters and the demands of profit are in contradiction with each other, as we see so often in any sphere of life taken over by capitalism, whether industry, art, or sport.
A history that earns scrutiny
FIFA was founded in Paris in 1904 by seven national football associations. It now has 211 members and commands the most valuable tournament in football. Its growth has brought extraordinary power over broadcasting, sponsorship and the organisation of the international game.
The pursuit of profit breeds corruption, and the rules protecting the game can become obstacles to those seeking greater returns. Lucrative broadcasting contracts create opportunities for bribery and decisions made for private gain of those in charge. There is no need to imagine this corruption within international football. We have already seen it before.
In the investigations that erupted in 2015 of what was seen as the biggest scandal in sports history, senior officials were accused of taking bribes connected to media and marketing rights. Juan Ángel Napout, a former FIFA vice-president and CONMEBOL president, and José Maria Marin, formerly head of Brazil’s football federation, were convicted in the United States in 2017 of racketeering, conspiracy and related offences.
These scandals exposed the opportunities for enrichment created around football’s commercial rights. Officials entrusted with running the game were positioned to profit from selling it. The contracts were lucrative, and the access was valuable. The people controlling that access were happy to demand their share.
Treating each scandal as the work of a few dishonest individuals leaves the system that rewarded them untouched. Replace the individuals, retain the same incentives, and the opportunities remain. Sepp Blatter was the President of FIFA when this corruption scandal was being investigated. Gianni Infantino has been the president since 2016 and has overseen the most recent World Cup and all its profit gouging.
Messi and the marketable story
The Argentine player Messi is an extraordinary footballer. Easily one of the best ever and certainly the best of his generation. Millions of fans wanted to see him succeed because of what he had done on the pitch.
His appeal also made him an enormously valuable commercial asset. A final World Cup ending with Messi lifting the trophy offered broadcasters, sponsors and FIFA a story they could sell across the world. Every round Argentina survived prolonged that opportunity.
That commercial interest gives supporters every reason to scrutinise controversial decisions. One such decision was a goal by Egypt, disallowed on the grounds that early on in the Egyptian attack an Egyptian player, Marwan Attia, had trodden on the foot of Lisandro Martinez, an Argentinian player, as was revealed by Video Assistant Referee (VAR) review. It seemed very unlikely that this had facilitated the subsequent goal, but that, and decisions around Argentina’s knockout matches, prompted anger over how VAR was applied. FIFA’s refereeing chief, Pierluigi Collina, defended the Egypt decision, but his intervention did not settle the argument over whether the application was consistent, convincing or fair.
Whether or not that corruption was brown envelopes full of cash or a gentle nudge, the suspicion is that such high stakes in profit could lead FIFA to influence the conditions surrounding the competition. Spain winning the final does not, by itself, answer that concern. A commercially desirable outcome can fail to materialise even where those in power would have welcomed it.
Football has many moving parts. Players still have to perform, opponents can overcome disadvantages, and favourable decisions do not guarantee a trophy. Suspicions about favourable treatment therefore cannot be dismissed simply by pointing to Argentina’s eventual defeat.
The commercial value of Messi’s success is central to understanding why those suspicions arose. Messi is not only one of 11 players on the pitch, but a modern icon who eclipses all other players today. Supporters are entitled to question an institution whose financial interests are so closely tied to the spectacle.
The problem runs deeper than one result
Under capitalism, like anything else, football’s popularity turns the game into a commodity. The labour of players, coaches, stadium workers and countless others produces an event that television and all other relevant companies turn into revenue. Fans are turned into consumers, paying a premium to watch and support their team, providing atmosphere and community while those controlling the commercial rights collect the returns.
The attachment supporters develop over a lifetime increases demand for that commodity and thus facilitates higher prices and higher profits. Watching the match, entering the stadium and sharing the occasion with your children all become opportunities to extract more money. The same fans who grew and sustain football’s popularity can find themselves priced out of its greatest events.
An organisation commanding the modern wealth (in comparison to its humble beginnings) of FIFA should face serious questions about ticket prices and supporters’ access to the game – an access that decreases as profit increases. Commercial success means little to a family of fans who cannot afford to attend.
This question extends beyond what happens on the pitch. Once football is organised around maximising revenue, the next question for those with keys to the vault becomes: how much more of its future income can be turned into an investment product. Infantino’s proposed sell-off brought that question into the open.
Selling a stake in football’s future
Infantino’s proposed FIFA Forward Enterprise plan would have seen football’s money men gleefully position the commercial business behind FIFA’s competitions into a subsidiary, with a minority stake offered to private investors. Broadcasting, sponsorship, licensing, tickets and hospitality would form part of the business.
This went beyond selling another broadcasting or sponsorship contract. It meant selling investors a lasting interest in the business generating those revenues. Football’s future earnings would become something investors could acquire a claim on.
The accusations were correct and fierce. UEFA accused Infantino of attempting to force through a “shabby, back room, opaque deal”. FIFA’s own chief operating officer, Kevin Lamour, accused him of deceiving staff, while senior adviser Carlos Cordeiro resigned in opposition. The backlash reached inside the organisation body created by Infantino himself.
Infantino attempted to sell the scheme as a way to fund football’s development. He argued that even more money (as if the coffers aren’t already overflowing) would mean better pitches and greater opportunities for young players – selling enrichment schemes as philanthropy!
UEFA rightly challenged why an organisation holding billions in reserves (a predicted £4.5bn by the end of this year, https://www.independent.co.uk/sport/football/infantino-fifa-cash-uefa-concacaf-b3052706.html) needed to surrender a stake in its competitions to be able to provide that support for grassroots football.
Football already generates enormous wealth, FIFA alone saw $15bn in revenue between 2023-26 (https://www.b360nepal.com/detail/29382/fifa-to-expand-global-investment-after-successful-world-cup-2026). None of the organisations involved dispute, or desire to end this. The dispute was over how that wealth should be used and who should have a claim on its future income. The promise of grassroots investment was being used to justify opening another part of the game to private capital. The questions from other organisations were “where do we gain?”. Never a thought to the working class fans who prop up the sport.
The attraction for investors is simple. They would acquire the access to a constant income generated by a game with an unwaveringly loyal international following. Supporters sustain that value through their attachment to clubs, players and their national teams. Investors are abundant because they feel a guaranteed return.
That return has to come from somewhere. Their involvement creates another financial demand on football, with pressure to extract more and more from the sport – never-ending profit gouging. The people’s game becomes a revenue stream expected to satisfy investors as well as the organisations already profiting from it. Expect even more unaffordable tickets, more expensive travel, costly television subscriptions and increasing difficulties for the regular fan to engage.
For a dear friend of imperialism, FIFA President Gianno Infantino, this plan offered an immediate injection of capital, self-enrichment and the opportunity to present increased payments to national associations as another achievement of his presidency. Those promises also had potential political value: the associations receiving the money are the associations that elect FIFA’s president. Solidifying institutional power at the top of the money tree.
This plan to increase capital has not continued, Infantino withdrew the proposal on 31 July after the backlash. Opposition stopped the sell-off for now, but the laws of capitalism that prompted the attempt still remain.
Football’s popularity creates fabulous wealth, and the opportunity to profit even more breeds corruption. The rewards for exploiting the game are enormous.
Removing one proposal, or even replacing another president, will not resolve a system that continually rewards those practices.
Football no longer belongs to the working-class fan. It belongs to capital and the fans are simply there to help increase that capital.