Sheffield Wednesday were, up until 1997, owned by thousands of shareholders who all held a small stake in the club. There were Original, A and B shares, which were purchased in the early years of the club by supporters who helped out when money was needed, and entitled their owners to perks like free season tickets. As a result these shares were handed down through families, had a strong sentimental as well as monetary value, and were almost all held by Wednesdayites.
There were also ‘C’ shares, issued when the club was at its lowest ebb in the 1970s, that did not give their owners perks but allowed them to go to AGMs and gave them ticket priority for big games. They were also solely held by Wednesday fans. Why would anyone else want to own them?
This situation gave the club a stable board of directors, and made it very difficult for one single individual to take control. Any potential owner would have to negotiate with hundreds if not thousands of individuals, all of whom had their own ideas about Sheffield Wednesday. Chairmen and directors were elected at AGMs rather than selected by anonymous owners, and they needed to pay attention to the shareholders who were, of course, Wednesday fans.
This was a great comfort to us when our neighbours across the city were being entertained by Director’s Box denizens like Carlo Colombotti, an Italian lawyer who promised link-ups with Juventus but gave them Mitch Ward instead; Reg Brealey, who caused pickets of Bramall Lane by the Socialist Worker’s Party because of the appalling way he treated workers at his Jute mills in India; Stephen Hinchcliffe, who was jailed in 2001 for bribery and corruption offences; Mike Macdonald, a self proclaimed Man City fan who wanted to merge the Sheffield clubs if possible or at least build a new ground and share it; and, best of all, Sam/Samantha Hashimi, an Iraqi businessman who is now an Iraq businesswoman and wanted to buy the club back in the mid-90s. Apologies to any SUFC Hall of Famers I’ve missed out.
At the SWFC AGM in 1993, a shareholder asked the board why they had spent £2.7m on Andy Sinton when for just £3.5m they could have bought SUFC, closed it down, sold Bramall Lane and become the only club in Sheffield while making a tidy profit. That’s how much of a joke United had become, primarily because ownership was tossed between sweatshop barons and criminals with little thought for the fans or team. That kind of question was often asked at AGMs in those days, when we had a decent team and a lack of debt to worry about, and shareholders went mainly to talk to the manager about on-field issues.
The early 90s were an exciting time for football in England. Sky had arrived and had a dependence on live football that would see hundreds of millions of pounds pumped into the Premier League over the next 15 years. Wednesday chairman Dave Richards thought this was great, money allowed clubs to spend more on players and increase the ‘attractiveness’ of the ‘product’. The difficulties teams got into when they were relegated were largely ignored, because Richards was convinced that Oldham Athletic and Luton Town operated in a different universe to Sheffield Wednesday, and their fate could not possibly befall his own club.
Richards was always a very political animal, and his positions at the FA and the Premier League were very important to him. He built a new South Stand at Hillsborough for the European Championships in 1996, although the extra capacity was not needed for any of the games played at Hillsborough as ticket sales for that tournament were very poor. This was financed by debt, which was sustainable because of the extra revenue the corporate facilities should generate, but it gave the football club board a taste for loans.
The vogue at the time was for football clubs to float themselves on stock exchanges. It was regarded as a necessity, a tautology, that a football club could not fund itself without recourse to the institutional shareholders that bought these shares. Tottenham Hotspur had been the first club to float on the Stock Exchange back in 1983, and along with Manchester United, their example was seen as a shining light to the rest of football’s dinosaurs.
At the height of this boom, clubs like Millwall, Sunderland, Aberdeen , Preston North End and Sheffield United were all listed on the stock exchanges. There were funds where individual investors could put their money into ‘the football sector’, so strong was the desire to get a piece of the football action. The boom did not last long.Many clubs have delisted now, with former Sunderland chairman Bob Murray claiming in 2004 that only Manchester United were suited to a stock market listing.
Unfortunately, Dave Richards and his fellow board members had decided in 1997 that Sheffield Wednesday needed to float on the Stock Exchange in order to compete with their peers. Given the complicated nature of the shareholding set out above, this was a difficult process. It was decided that the best route was a share issue, with all old shares converted into ‘new’ shares and Charterhouse, an investment bank that wanted a piece of the football pie, buying 36.7% of the new shares and injecting £16m into the club.
It was intended that this money would be enough to allow Wednesday to improve and compete at the top level, before a floatation that would make Charterhouse a lot of money and inject even more cash into the club. Unfortunately, poor transfers and bad management ensured that Wednesday struggled, and the stock market realised that football clubs might not be the gold mine they had thought. Wednesday began chasing their losses, gambling huge sums on disinterested players who still had to be paid when the club was relegated and the TV money stopped flowing. The club was in a mess, the dream of floatation and riches had died for most football teams, and at Wednesday there was no chance whatsoever of a share issue bonanza on the Stock Exchange.
Charterhouse sold three quarters of their shares to Geoff Hulley, Keith Addy and Dave Allen in 2001, with the remaining quarter gifted to the Owls Trust (now ‘rebranded’ as Wednesdayite).
At first the newly-formed Trust did not buy any more shares after this gift. They thought it might be a bad investment, that the club could go into administration and they would lose everything. Better to keep the money and invest it later on. There was a strong current of thinking that shares in the club must be aggregated, that a single dominating shareholding was the best way to secure a bright future for Sheffield Wednesday Football Club.
The idea is that rich investors want total control, and that they must be given this in the hope that they can clear the debt and move the club forward. This chimes with the current vogue in English football club ownership, after the Glazers took Manchester United off the stock market. Now the idea is that the PLC is dead (both in football and more widely), and the only way forward is for single rich investors to take a club and either run it philanthropically, like Randy Lerner at Aston Villa, or leverage it to the hilt with debt, like the Glazers at Manchester United or Gillett and Hicks at Liverpool.
I wonder what the fashion will be in a couple of years, and if Sheffield Wednesday’s Supporter’s Trust will be so eager to follow it. The club has survived and occasionally thrived for 150 years up until 1997, and since then it has hit problem after problem after problem. The sensible, safe option is to admit the mistake, seek a solution among fans and small shareholders, and finally take back the club from the mistakes of Richards and Charterhouse. The dangerous, reckless route is to aggregate a controlling stake and sell it to an anonymous offshore trust. Why is the Supporter’s Trust at my club advocating the latter over the former?
Recent Comments