When Adil Rami went down injured after a collision with Divock Origi in the second half of the Europa League Final, I cheered. It was out of pure spite and I’m not sorry. That handsome and capable bastard left me alone in the train wreck that is AC Milan for success in Spain. I needed him. I miss his stupid, perfect face. I don’t know how much longer I can watch Alex pretend to defend before I pop a blood vessel. Come back and save me, Rami!
Sevilla keeps winning because they’re broke, not in spite of it
Money is great, but it also kills ingenuity.


Anyways, Sevilla beat Liverpool to win their third straight Europa League title. The Spanish side came back to win 3-1 after a shaky first half saw them down 0-1 at halftime. The title is their third in a row, and their fifth in the competition in the last 11 years.
It’s an astounding achievement in itself. Winning any competition, let alone a European one, three times in row is absurd. Some teams, like Bayern Munich, manage the trio in league competitions, thanks in part by being super rich, employing a fine line of great managers and making efficient, if not underhanded transfer decisions. Still, the fantastic nature of the achievement remains.
There’s too much quality and money, and risk of complacency in the game for one team to dominate in such a manner, even if it is the Europa League. Yet, somehow, Sevilla have managed to make the Europa League their own. It almost seems easier for them to win the competition in order to qualify for the Champions League than to actually finish fourth in La Liga. Or rather, they prefer to take that route.
A big reason for their supremacy, besides the obvious brilliant players and manager, Unai Emery -- who also took Valencia to third place in the league for three consecutive seasons -- is their sporting director Monchi, who was appointed in 2000. At the time of his hire, Sevilla had just been relegated and were in huge debt.
The list of his purchases and sells since that time seem more like the works of a clairvoyant than a normal human being. For reference, here’s a few of players that he has bought for cheap and sold for not so cheap: Sergio Ramos, Dani Alves, Luis Fabiano, Carlos Bacca, Ivan Rakitic, Federico Fazio, Diego Lopez, Geoffrey Kondogbia, Frederic Kanoute, Alvaro Negredo, Seydou Keita ...
Breathe. There’s a lot, but selling Sebastien Squillaci to Arsenal for actual money might have been his greatest coup and con.
Then there’s the players who came through the youth team under his reign, who he managed to tease tens of millions of dollars/pounds/euros from bigger clubs for. The list of names is just as sweeping as the previous one.
In that linked Guardian article, Monchi talks about his team’s exhaustive scouting process. Sevilla are a selling club. A stepping stone. There’s no point running from that reality. Instead, rather than fight against the nature of his employer, Monchi has come up with a plan to deal with and live well within it. Since players will come and go regularly, there needs to be an immense sporting institution in place in order to replace them as to avoid falling behind, or worse, relegation again.
He talks about starting with 250 potential transfer targets a season. His scouts will watch and evaluate these players regularly. Then they will parse and whittle the list down to around 10, depending on the desires and preferences of the manager. After that comes the actual talks between club and player. Monchi mentions that if a bigger club is after the target, they concede, but if a club of similar or smaller stature is their opposition, they’ll push forward, selling the club as an opportunity and the culture of the city itself.
One of the most important pieces of information that he reveals is that Sevilla also goes after players discarded by bigger clubs. And unknown, unpolished talents, who the bigger clubs are wont to ignore. The lack of interest from those clubs, as he said, is caused by money. After all, when you have all the money in the world, there’s no need to look in the crevices of the soccer world for talent. You can just wait for them to develop and shine before poaching them.
On the other subject, a club can only have so many players -- even Chelsea who loans out approximately 3,000 of them a season -- and it’s natural that all of them will want to play. So, these big clubs, who become overpopulated with stars, are forced to sell off excessive talent. A perfect situation for a club like Sevilla, who then become a cheap landing spot for players who are intent on proving their abilities once again.
They manage to both find new stars and acquire forgotten ones, while being the stepping point for others. A showcase for those dreaming of bigger things. It makes them a great marketplace for those mega-rich clubs.
It’s a form of resistance to poverty, and it’s genius. Sevilla obviously desire to be more than just a selling club, most do, but circumstances say otherwise. But being so doesn’t mean that one can’t survive or thrive. It just means you have to be willing to game the system. Atlético Madrid can attest to that, as well -- they have a similar philosophy and application.
If there’s any hope of survival in the imminent football world where English clubs are mega-rich and can afford anything under the sun, it’s the fact that money doesn’t equate to intelligence. In fact, it seems to hinder it.
Being rich comes with a countless number of benefits, and it is also the desired position. No one wants to be a selling club, everyone wants to be Real Madrid. But it also has very obvious detriments. It’s not more money, more problems, but more money, the less creative one is at solving problems. After all, what’s the use of thinking of new ways to resolve an issue when you can just throw money at it. Why wait for youth players to develop when you can buy an established star for $30 million? And, of course, it’s easier to take a employ a big-name manager than take a chance at one who was sacked by Spartak Moscow after a few months in charge.
Money makes clubs lazy, blind and wasteful.
The opposite is that, not having money forces one to be very innovative in order to survive. And the truth is that most clubs in the same position as Sevilla do not survive. Even less, they rarely succeed. Sevilla are a clear exception to the rule.
But they succeeded through a combination of intensive work, resourcefulness and pure luck. Ivan Rakitic would have probably left Sevilla sooner had he not met his wife on the first day there. You can’t plan for that, but what you can do is create the circumstances that allow for it to happen. Luring him from Schalke, selling him on the city, offering an appealing contract and opportunity for advancement that entices him enough to stay and think about it for a day. Then you desperately hope that fat baby Cupid is not late to the party.
It’s not as sexy as throwing a bag full of cash at players but it’s the only real choice left. Either that or sink back down.
There’s really no secret formula to what Sevilla have done. Every suffering club has access to this plan and are desperately trying to make it work. The impressive thing is that Sevilla has perfected it. They are selling off stars, replacing them and still winning. Well, not just winning, they’re dominating competitions as this process of buying low and selling high happens in the background. And they’re succeeding against opponents whose teams cost much, much more than theirs. It’s quite admirable.
They did this by accepting the realities and their place within the footballing world. They are not rich, and players look to the club as either as a means for better things or as a place to rediscover themselves. That’s absolutely fine. They took that truth and turned it into gold.











