The Last of the Barrow Boys vs. The Modern Moneyperson
Our current majority shareholder is, for better or worse, the last of the barrow boys: one of those working-class geezers who did so good that they were actually able to buy a top-flight football club. It is faintly ironic that, as a symbol of Cockney aspiration, David Sullivan is bang on the money. For many, though – even those or perhaps especially those – who romanticise the hostile nature of Upton Park and ‘the good old days’ – he is a relic. Even Jamie Carragher and Sky Sports have finally clocked that West Ham’s business acumen hasn’t really progressed since Harry Redknapp was being glorified as the archetypal East End wheeler-dealer. What we need to move forward is a modern moneyperson. Enter Daniel Křetínský.
Křetínský’s Financial Power and Delayed Takeover
It’s now four years since the Czech billionaire came on board and his estimated net worth (£7.5bn) dwarfs Sullivan’s (£1.1bn). And while Sullivan’s wealth reportedly decreased by £50m from 2024-25 [insert jokes about the Kilman/Todibo transfer fees and/or the world’s smallest violins here], Křetínský’s surged enough to afford Declan Rice four times over, not accounting for inflation, since 2023. When Křetínský first purchased his 27% stake in November 2021, hopes were high that his investment would enable us to start shopping in the football equivalent of Sainsbury’s, which he also part owns, rather than Aldi’s middle aisle. And many saw this as the prelude to a full takeover, expected to happen once the stadium clause granting the LLDC proceeds from any sale within five years had expired. But this date has been and gone, along with David Gold’s shares becoming available in 2023. Yet the man who earned the nickname the ‘Czech Sphinx’ for his enigmatic business dealings has not made a move.
The Czech Sphinx: Impact and Lack of Disruption
So what does he bring to the table? There were rumblings from some sources before Nuno Espírito Santo was appointed that Křetínský had vetoed Bilic’s return and favoured Fulham’s Marco Silva. Oh, to have been a fly on the wall at any board meetings discussing the possibility of meeting Silva’s £8m buyout. Fans might delight at the contrast between Křetínský’s ambition and Sullivan’s frugality, the former’s silence and the latter’s botched PR. But they’ve co-existed on the board for the quadrennial cycle of an international tournament and the Czech’s impact has been frustratingly hushed, with his on-pitch compatriots Soucek and Coufal arguably creating bigger waves in their time with the club. As long as Sullivan remains at the helm, maybe it’s unfair to expect minority shareholders to make a difference. However, it’s also hard to escape the feeling that Křetínský has been given a free pass. He owns more shares than the Gold family, and although Gold, Sullivan and Brady came as a package – thus tarring them all with the same brush – the late David Gold always seemed to temper some of his partner’s worst excesses whilst never escaping fan ire himself. Including Křetínský’s initials would obviously disrupt the #NoMoreBS campaign, but it would be reasonable to criticise him for not having been more of a disruptor during his tenure thus far.
Questions Over Credentials and Endgame
When he arrived, his credentials as a main stakeholder in boyhood club Sparta Prague (dating back to 2004) were trumpeted. Tellingly, however, he has received some flak from Sparta fans, discontented at losing their pre-eminence to Slavia Prague and Viktoria Plzen. And neither a formal nor informal tie-up between his clubs, as enjoyed by the likes of Chelsea and Vitesse Arnhem and Manchester City and Girona has ever materialised (possibly once compromised by UEFA rules, not an issue for the foreseeable future, and debatable which would be considered the principal club at this moment in time). The travails of Jim Ratcliffe at Manchester United, even with his hitherto impressive track record in sport, shows that new investors are not always the remedy. With INEOS projecting fanciful visions of a future Old Trafford at the same time as making menial cuts (sorry, cost efficiencies), it’s worth noting that Křetínský – or, indeed, any new owner – is likely to have one eye on the accounts and the other on the sort of commercial opportunities for which the Baroness has been slaughtered. Nothing in Křetínský’s portfolio – from retail to energy to media and the recent controversial takeover of Royal Mail – suggests he is the philanthropic billionaire owner that fans crave. It remains to be seen what Křetínský’s endgame is. And perhaps a dead-eyed professionalism is all that’s required after the circus of the Sullivan era. But can we really trust someone who’s been riding on the coattails of the ringmaster for so long?
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