Opinion – when money dominates transfer analysis | OneFootball

Paris Saint-Germain ended its summer transfer window with more than 350 million euros in sales, according to Le Monde. An economic performance spectacular enough to become a story in itself. But behind those figures lies a curious development: in modern football, we sometimes seem to know a player’s market value before we even know what he is actually worth on the pitch.

Welcome to the great game of guessing the right price

These days, all it takes is a transfer rumor for the game to begin. A player is linked with PSG, his club is said to be asking for 70 million euros, and within minutes the court of public opinion is in session: too expensive. At 50, maybe. At 40, great deal. At 35, send someone to sign the paperwork immediately before the seller comes to their senses.

The most fascinating part is our collective confidence. No one really knows the details of the negotiations, the possible bonuses, the other interested clubs, the seller’s intentions, the payment terms, or sometimes even the budget Paris actually has available. But we know. That one is worth 45 million. Not 50. Definitely not 55. At 55, it’s daylight robbery.

It almost feels like we are missing a little sign, like at an auction. The media obviously feeds this mechanism. Transfer news often comes with its price tag attached: “valued at,” “the club is asking,” “an offer of,” “no less than.” That makes sense; the price is part of the information. The problem starts when it almost becomes the analysis itself.

After a while, a footballer no longer simply has passing quality, tactical intelligence, pressing ability, or the skill to beat his man. Above all, he has a price tag.

An Excel spreadsheet instead of the pitch

The phenomenon becomes even more amusing when everyone builds their own transfer window. We sell three players, bring in 110 million, save a few wages, and just like that, two new signings are already funded. On paper, it is magnificent. The only slight flaw in the plan is that the clubs supposedly buying our players have not always attended the meeting. Sometimes it feels as if every supporter is spending their own money.

This obsession with price ends up contaminating sporting judgment above all. A player signed for 15 million can become a “great piece of business” with just a decent season. Produce exactly the same performances after a 70-million transfer, and the discussion changes immediately: at that price, he should be doing more.

The financial dimension obviously exists. A club has to manage its resources, and a huge investment naturally creates expectations. But the shortcut becomes troubling when the fee ends up sparing us from actually analyzing the player.

How much is a midfielder worth if he can make build-up play smoother, close the right spaces, and make the players around him better without piling up statistics? How much does a forward cost if he scores less but whose movement constantly opens up space? What discount should be applied to a defender who is exceptional in build-up play but less dominant in duels?

Curiously, the famous “right price” becomes much less obvious as soon as you put football back into the equation.

PSG has also taught us how to count

In Paris, this drift is probably no accident. Since QSI arrived, PSG has been discussed for years through the lens of its spending, its wages, Financial Fair Play, and the cost of its stars. People constantly had to explain how much Paris had paid, how much Paris could pay, and how much Paris had overpaid. After being judged by the numbers for so long, the Parisian environment has learned to answer with numbers.

It would be a shame, though, if the club’s sporting evolution were not accompanied by an evolution in the way its players are viewed. A signing is not a good signing because he costs 30 million rather than 50. He becomes one because he improves the team, fits its needs, and produces something useful once the ball starts rolling.

And if a player arrives for a high fee, delivers five great seasons, helps win major titles, then leaves the club without generating the wonderful capital gain that was hoped for, do we really need to explain that the deal was not a failure? The accountant might have something to say about it. The supporter, much less so.

Understanding football finances is interesting. Letting them replace football is far less so. Because the PSG supporter is neither a shareholder, nor a finance director, nor a negotiator. Their real added value will never appear in the club’s accounts. What they get back in the end is memories. And those still have the elegance of not having a Transfermarkt value.

This article was translated into English by Artificial Intelligence. You can read the original version in 🇫🇷 here.