In the space of four days, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia’s King Fahd International Stadium hosted both the Italian Super Cup final (Milan vs. Inter, arguably the biggest derby in the world) and the Spanish Super Cup final (Barcelona vs. Real Madrid, aka El Clasico aka the biggest game in the club game). You’d think one of those matches was the main event, but no: as far as global hype and local attention were concerned, despite their combined 29 European Cups, they were merely the undercard for Cristiano Ronaldo vs. Lionel Messi as a local All-Star XI led by the Portuguese striker took on Paris Saint-Germain.
If you’re old-school about the sport, you may find this depressing. Two of the biggest rivalries involving four historic giants of the game with silverware at stake (more on this later) are overshadowed by an exhibition game involving one team that isn’t even a real team against a club whose illustrious history dates all the way back to … um … 1970. Of course, if you’re really old-school (and a bit contrarian), you may point out that the “Super Cup” — pitting the domestic champions against the domestic cup winners — is a less prestigious trophy and an artificial made-for-TV event conjured up in the 1980s to generate more content and revenue.
(But then, if you’re REALLY, REALLY, REALLY old-school — and REALLY, REALLY, REALLY contrarian — you’ll point out that a version of this existed in Spain in the 1940s and early 1950s, and that it’s a real trophy and not an artificial money spinner because if you did the league and cup double, you’d be automatically awarded the trophy without playing the game.)
Still, the point remains. For five days in January, Riyadh has drawn more footballing eyeballs than anywhere else ever, outside of Europe, South America and World Cups.
So how did we get here? The short, simple answer: money.
The Spanish FA earns a reported €30 million ($32.4m) for its Super Cup format — featuring a final four and three matches in total — which it splits among the clubs. The Italian FA’s single-game take is around €7.5m ($8.1m). As for Thursday’s friendly, French newspaper L’Equipe reported that PSG were getting €10m ($10.8m) to face the Riyadh All-Stars, but, of course, you’d want to factor in the cost of getting Ronaldo there too: he has a contract through 2025 worth $75m a year, plus commercial deals that could more than double his compensation.
How about the full answer?
It’s not hard to understand why the leagues would go for it: more guaranteed money than they would get at home, the opportunity for commercial relationships and to grow their brands in the Gulf … though to be fair, they spend so little there, it doesn’t really move the needle. Their domestic fans don’t particularly like it — there were only 400 Italian fans (according to Italian FA president Gabriele Gravina) among the 51,000 who watched the Italian Super Cup, most of them Gulf residents — but there are enough more important things in the sport to complain about, that it’s unlikely anyone will listen. (Possibly because, well, it’s the Super Cup, which generally ranks a distant fourth — out of four — among seasonal objectives.)
But what’s in it for the Saudis? Here it gets a bit more complex.
– Stream on ESPN+: LaLiga, Bundesliga, MLS, more (U.S.)
Tempting as it may be to draw parallels with Qatar spending $200bn to organise the 2022 World Cup or Abu Dhabi investing heavily in Manchester City, it’s likely not merely a giant exercise in burnishing or raising the country’s profile or exercising soft power. When you’re the second-biggest oil producer and the sixth-biggest military spender on Earth, never mind “soft power” — you’ve already got “hard power.”
Nor are they naive enough to think that throwing money around will change the country’s reputation when it comes to human rights, which remains very poor. Not after being condemned by the United Nations for the murder of dissident Jamal Khashoggi, and not when anyone with an internet connection can read reports like this.
And while some in the West lump all Gulf nations together, there’s a major difference just in sheer size. There are less than two million ethnic Emiratis, and roughly 300,000 ethnic Qataris: the rest of the people who live there are immigrants, whether they be billionaire Russian oligarchs, millionaire private equity guys or exploited construction workers. On the other hand, there are 36 million Saudis, which means they have serious heft when it comes to the economy. And unlike its Gulf neighbours, this is a big country: in fact, it’s the 12th biggest in the world.
