Wembley Stadium sale: Why Shahid Khan’s £600m offer for the national stadium met such resistance
England’s unexpectedly successful World Cup summer created an atmosphere of togetherness that captured hearts and minds.
Despite failing to deliver the trophy the nation craved, it brought a greater prize back to our shores. Amid the beer sloshing, waistcoat wearing and anthem singing, football had come home.
It was soon back to business for the Football Association, however, whose focus returned to a sizeable item on their pre-tournament to-do list: sell Wembley to Mr Khan?
Read more: Wembley Stadium sale called off as billionaire bidder backs out
Negotiations quickly became a matter of national interest. In the crossfire stood the FA Council, 127 representatives from all echelons of English football, whose blessing – despite holding no legislative authority – was sought as a prerequisite to any deal.
Failure to align here would have caused a schism and seen the leadership fall out of sync with its own house; the Wembley sale becoming a diktat rather than a united decision.
Despite disagreeing on the fundamental issue, both sides of the debate had something in common: they exposed deep insecurities held by those invested in the national game.
On one hand, supporters of the sale saw a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to inject £600m into a much-maligned grassroots system; on the other, deep distrust in the assurances that Wembley would remain, in name and function, home to English football.
Two comments from the negotiators’ leading voices, Shahid Khan and FA chief executive Martin Glenn, bookended the discourse in a telling way.
In April, Khan urged detractors to “get past the initial emotion” and see the “logic” of the deal. Fast forward seven months and, following the deal’s collapse last week, Glenn tersely surmised the proposal had been “more divisive than expected”.
Khan’s words, in particular, foreshadowed what was to come. Football, like all passions, is rarely logical. Being a fan is emotional. We create connections to players, clubs and the bricks and mortar that house them. They give us a sense of identity that is priceless. In many ways, the controversy that engulfed the negotiations was, contrary to Glenn’s assessment, very much to be expected.
The arguments for the deal did not fail to cut through because they were unfounded or unjustified; the FA will continue to grapple with grassroots challenges.
It failed to garner support from the Council because they perceived themselves to be in a Catch-22 situation, unwilling to choose whether their chief responsibility should be safeguarding the home of the national team or improving facilities.
The Football Supporters’ Federation, meanwhile, surveyed 2,000 fans and found two thirds opposed a sale.
It is easy to dismiss those against the deal as ignoring the benefits of a substantial windfall in favour of misplaced sentimentality and patriotism.
Indeed, comments equating the sale to parting with Buckingham Palace or the crown jewels conjure a somewhat jingoistic picture that obstructs the real message behind the words: many football fans are nervous about the growing commercialisation of the modern game and what that means for their place within it.
We live in an age of ever-increasing brand presence and globalisation in sport. From RB Leipzig to overseas fixtures, moves to grow the game jar with notions of authenticity and heritage, two tenets of the fan on the ground.
The timing of the debate, coinciding with the annual arrival of the NFL cavalcade at Wembley, crystallised this growing insecurity around the sanctity of the game.
The hyper-commercialisation of the American franchise model both entices and appals English fans. We watch wide-eyed as the spectacle descends on London, but feel queasy when yet another NFL team relocates to a new city.
Fittingly, two franchises in the current series, the LA Chargers and Oakland Raiders, have recent or ongoing experience of this, while the Jacksonville Jaguars, owned by Khan and also among the visiting teams, are hotly tipped to make London their home.
While a national team differs to a club in that it is inseparably tied to its country of origin, the deal proposed by Khan unwittingly tapped into some of the darkest fears of English fans, who feel they have put up with too many selfish owners, overbearing sponsors and “plastic” supporters to risk allowing the Three Lions to go the globetrotter route. They remember the relocation of Wimbledon to Milton Keynes.
Retaining ownership of Wembley may not, in the long run, allay these concerns, but the withdrawal of Khan’s offer will be seen by some as a symbolic victory that draws a line in the sand.
Ultimately, the England team is more than just Wembley. More pertinent than that, it is more than just London. When fans up and down the country were willing football to come home, the picture in their minds was not simply that of a stadium.
As referenced in the FA’s squad announcement video, love for the Three Lions ripples across all corners of the country, from the top deck of a bus in Walthamstow to high-rise estates in Sheffield.
The resistance to the sale was, therefore, about more than just the stadium; it was about retaining the priceless sense of identity and authenticity that connects those fans to the team they love. Home, after all, is where the heart is.