When Newcastle United were taken over by Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund (PIF) in October 2021, all the talk centred on how exceedingly wealthy they now were

With PIF’s net worth estimated to be in the region of £350 billion it instantly made the Magpies the richest football club in the world and for context on how staggeringly vast that figure is, consider the following.

A club that had so recently yo-yoed between the top two divisions, held back by a penny-pinching Mike Ashley, now had a financial might infinitely greater than the next 10 richest clubs in the world combined. 

It was a scale of fortune at their disposal that dwarfed that of Manchester City’s. Made PSG look positively poverty-stricken.

Understandably therefore, the Toon Army responded to confirmation of the takeover with wild celebrations and excited chatter about signing Kylian Mbappe, a megastar they could theoretically afford with pocket change.

Let’s remember that word though, before we move on. Theoretically. 

Because fast-forward to the present, and though Newcastle have committed to a considerable net spend of £254.8m going into this summer – the second highest in the top-flight – and though their investments have swiftly seen them beat the Premier League top four odds, securing Champions League football for this coming season, already they have reached the allowed limits of their expenditure, their project having barely begun. 

Already this club that has more money than Midas is in a position where they must sell before they buy.

The reason for this of course is Financial Fair Play, a controversial set of regulations that were introduced in 2011 under the benevolent guise of ensuring clubs could no longer spend beyond their means.

Which, in the spirit of fair play, it should be stated, it does. 

What it also ensures, however, is that another Manchester City or PSG can never happen again, a club suddenly furnished with enormous riches, investing their way into the elite, thereby usurping a ‘legacy’ club to a Champions League spot, all while consistently out-bidding them in the transfer market. 

Undoubtedly, the clubs that most benefit from FFP are the supposed aristocracy of world football.

Your Manchester Uniteds. Your AC Milans. By sheer coincidence it was also precisely these institutions that most pushed for – and effectively designed – FFP, an act that forever more pulled up the drawbridge.

That these cover-all restrictions – regulations that journalist Mark Douglas recently described as ‘enforced austerity’ - apply to every club regardless of circumstance feels as sensibly stunted now as when introduced, and leads us to the bizarre situation of a club that could easily afford to embark on a lavish spending spree this window, having to cut their cloth like everyone else.

Granted, the Magpies have recently purchased Sandro Tonali for north of £50m, but should they wish to add to what is essentially a shallow squad all told, with Champions League commitments to factor in, they must first sell Allan Saint-Maximin before they can bring in Leicester’s Harvey Barnes.

Beyond that, the wealthiest of the wealthy must look to free transfers or bargain buys, perhaps a clever loan deal or two. 

“There have been frustrations and dark days,” Eddie Howe admitted last week, and even if it’s hard to extend too much sympathy towards a manager who has – to this juncture – been strongly backed in the market, his frustrations are warranted.

For Newcastle are a Lotto winner denied their right to go mansion-shopping, instead having to settle for a nice three-bedroom semi.

Sure, in a years’ time, when their Champions League revenue rolls in, they’ll be allowed by the governing bodies to build a conservatory and who knows, maybe a rockery.

But what they can actually afford is to construct an awesome edifice, one made up of world class players who collectively boss the Premier League betting. A team that brings a success-starved North-East glories galore. 

It is a limiting of the limitless that feels even more illogical and unfair when we acknowledge the summer splurging from Arsenal, a club that has a tiny fraction of Newcastle’s resources but crucially has been a ‘big club’ for much longer, thereby benefiting from greater revenue and thus possessing a more amenable FFP limit. 

Spending well over £100m for Declan Rice? That’s fine. £65m for Chelsea flop Kai Havertz? No problem. £35m for Jurrien Timber? Go nuts.

But hey, you there, Newcastle. You with the owners who could afford to buy the moon. Don’t even think of competing with Liverpool for your top target Dominik Szoboszlai, despite the Reds often leaking to the press how cash-strapped they are. 

Why? Because it’s the rules, that’s why. Rules that were brought in to protect the status quo while also protecting very different kinds of owners from a different time from running their clubs into the ground.  

And speaking of Liverpool we must return to Jurgen Klopp’s comments made last autumn, insisting that Newcastle had no spending ceiling.

Patently untrue, the fact that Liverpool were one of the chief architects behind FFP just makes the comments that bit more galling. 

There are many who find state-ownership of English football clubs abhorrent and there are many more appalled by the appalling human rights record in Saudi Arabia. Yet still, nobody can say that this prohibitive cap on spending is fair. 

Newcastle should have the world as their shop window right now, and their fans should be in dream land. Instead, they’re on a strict budget with billions in the bank.


*Credit for all of the photos in this article belongs to AP Photo*

Stephen Tudor is a freelance football writer and sports enthusiast who only knows slightly less about the beautiful game than you do.

A contributor to FourFourTwo and Forbes, he is a Manchester City fan who was taken to Maine Road as a child because his grandad predicted they would one day be good.