I am starting to wonder if money in sport is like oil and water; they just don’t mix.

I am a sports nut, but lately I’ve found myself losing some of that enthusiasm.

Over the last couple of weeks, I haven’t been checking the overnight EPL scores before getting out of bed. That might not sound significant, but for someone who’s followed Arsenal for years, it says something. One of the joys of retirement has been being able to watch a game at any time.

I’ve lost my enthusiasm for the EPL

In recent weeks, I haven’t had those disturbed nights watching Arsenal play in the early hours. It’s not because they are the Premier League Champions; it’s because I’ve lost some interest in the competition, largely because of the Manchester City situation.

For years, the 115 charges against City have been in the back of my mind, and sometimes front and centre. I like many have questioned their ownership and, more broadly, whether football clubs should have ownership closely aligned with nation states. I’ve even joked about Arsenal being owned by a plucky billionaire, as though that somehow makes things a little more acceptable.

But since the independent commission reached its judgement in the Manchester City case, I’ve felt deflated. I’ve still watched Arsenal’s games live when the timing has suited, given I live in Australia, or caught up on the replays. I haven’t bothered to watch other teams.

I’m just not that interested. I’ve had the stuffing knocked out of me. I think I’m actually grieving over it.

It’s not a level playing field

I’ve known for years that money talks in sport, and perhaps nowhere more loudly than in the EPL. I also know the playing field has never truly been level, and that Arsenal, as one of the so-called ‘big clubs’, has benefited from advantages many other clubs don’t enjoy.

I suppose I’ve accepted that as part of the modern game and just turned a blind eye to it; however, in recent months it’s been bothering me more.

Look at Aston Villa. They might have the future King as one of their most ardent supporters; why Villa, I ask myself?  Notwithstanding, they’ve had to find ways to meet the competition’s financial rules, while my team, Arsenal, and other big clubs seem better placed to buy the players they want, including from Villa. I understand there are rules, and clubs have to work within them, but it’s hard not to wonder whether those rules favour some clubs over others. I know that’s what Villa supporters say all the time; you only have to listen to the UK’s TalkSport to hear them, and I don’t think they are just whinging; I think they have a valid point.

Then there’s Manchester City and the judgement, which I know is subject to appeal. Whatever the eventual outcome, I suspect my unease will remain. 

It’s not just football (soccer)

And it’s not just soccer (remember, I live in Australia, where we play Australian Rules Football, which is our football).

We’ve just come through another AFL trade period, and I’ve found myself feeling much the same way. It seems so many of the best players end up at the so-called big clubs — Collingwood, Hawthorn and Geelong — while clubs like Adelaide, my team, struggle to secure the players they want.

Again, it felt like money talks. Although we have salary caps, it feels like there are advantages that being in the big markets like Melbourne offers that we in Adelaide or Perth just can’t compete with. It’s just making me feel sad.

Perhaps that’s just professional sport in 2026. Players make decisions about their careers (and that’s only fair as it’s their livelihood), clubs do what they can to improve their lists (as they should), and money and opportunity inevitably play a part. I understand all that, but understanding it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

What makes it particularly frustrating is that the game itself can still be fantastic. The 2026 AFL finals series, especially the last two weeks, were riveting. The drama of the last four minutes of the Grand Final, when Brisbane came from the clouds, was just incredible. It’s what makes our game great.

And yet, even after all that, the trade period that followed left me feeling sad.

Money has taken the joy out of sport

I don’t expect sport to be perfectly fair, and I’m not naïve enough to think money has only recently become important. In fact, I recently read that test cricketers are, in relative terms, only now earning close to what those who played in the early days did.  Professional sport always involved money, ambition and powerful interests. But I want to believe the competition still means something beyond its owners’ financial resources, the size of its market, or its ability to attract the next big-name player. As supporters, we are emotionally invested, perhaps even more than those in control of the clubs. Our weeks are shaped by the results. I remember the Adelaide Crows’ first coach, Graham Cornes, saying the mood of all of Adelaide rested on the weekend result. I think he was right then, and I still think it holds true.

It’s for that reason I want to believe that a club can succeed because it makes good decisions, develops its players and builds something that its supporters can be proud of. I want to believe that the competition itself matters, not just the commercial interests behind it.

Maybe I’m becoming a grumpy old supporter. You know the one who always says it was better in years gone by. Maybe I’ve just reached the point where I can no longer put aside the things that once seemed like an unfortunate but tolerable part of following sport.

I don’t know.

But when I wake up in the morning and no longer feel the need to check the EPL results, something has changed. And when the AFL finals can leave me thrilled by the football, but still disappointed by the way the competition seems to work, I find myself asking the same question.

Has money ruined sport, or is it just that it’s ruining my enjoyment of it?