In the mid-2010s, China embarked on one of the most audacious experiments in modern sports history. With the full backing of President Xi Jinping, the country unleashed a tidal wave of cash into football, aiming to transform itself from a perennial underachiever into a global powerhouse. Star players were lured with eye-watering salaries, clubs splashed hundreds of millions in transfer windows, and grand infrastructure plans were unveiled. Yet, barely a decade later, the dream has unraveled spectacularly. Clubs have folded, scandals have engulfed the sport, and the national team remains a source of national embarrassment. China’s attempt to “buy” football stands as a stark lesson in the limits of money and top-down planning in a sport that thrives on organic passion and grassroots depth.

Xi Jinping’s Football Dream

President Xi Jinping has long been vocal about his love for football. As early as 2011, before assuming the top leadership role, he articulated three clear ambitions for the sport in China: qualifying for the World Cup, hosting the tournament, and ultimately winning it. These “three wishes” became a cornerstone of his broader vision for national rejuvenation and soft power projection.

In 2016, the Chinese government released an ambitious development plan. It called for building 20,000 football schools, 70,000 pitches, and training over 50 million players. Football was added to school curricula, and massive investments were encouraged from state-owned enterprises and private tycoons. The goal was clear: make China a top Asian side by 2030 and a world leader by 2050.

This was not mere rhetoric. Real estate giants, tech firms, and conglomerates poured resources into the Chinese Super League (CSL). The league became a symbol of China’s rising economic might and cultural aspirations.

The Lavish Spending Spree

The CSL’s rise was fueled by “gold dollar football.” In the January 2016 transfer window alone, Chinese clubs spent more than $366 million on foreign talent—outpacing every other league globally. High-profile arrivals included Brazilian midfielder Oscar, who joined Shanghai SIPG in a deal worth tens of millions, and Argentine striker Carlos Tevez, who reportedly earned around $40 million annually at Shanghai Shenhua. Other notable names like Didier Drogba, Nicolas Anelka, Robinho, and Alexandre Pato followed, drawn by salaries that dwarfed those in many European leagues.

Clubs such as Guangzhou Evergrande, backed by the Evergrande Real Estate Group, dominated. They signed top domestic players, hired elite foreign coaches, and achieved Asian Champions League success. Attendance grew, sponsorships flowed, and for a brief period, it seemed like the strategy was working. Chinese entities even acquired stakes in European clubs and became FIFA sponsors, signaling a desire for global influence.

However, this model was fundamentally flawed. Clubs operated at enormous losses—often $100-200 million annually for top teams—relying on owner subsidies rather than sustainable revenue from tickets, broadcasting, or merchandise. The spending created an arms race where rivals felt compelled to match the extravagance to stay competitive.

Cracks in the Foundation

Beneath the glitz lay systemic weaknesses. China has a massive population, yet producing elite players proved elusive. Experts point to several core issues:

• Weak Grassroots and Youth Development: While numbers for pitches and participants were impressive on paper, quality lagged. Intense academic pressures on Chinese youth, inconsistent coaching, and a focus on quantity over technical ingenuity hampered progress. Cultural factors and lack of clear professional pathways deterred many families.
• Political Interference and Corruption: The sport suffered from excessive government control, which stifled creativity. Match-fixing, gambling, and graft were rampant. In recent years, top football officials have been detained on corruption charges, and clubs faced points deductions for violations.
• Financial Unsustainability: The 2020 introduction of salary caps and luxury taxes aimed to curb excesses but accelerated the downturn by making big-name signings unviable. The COVID-19 pandemic delivered a severe blow, halting matches, slashing revenues, and forcing conglomerates to prioritize core businesses amid economic slowdowns.

The real estate crisis was particularly devastating. Many club owners were tied to property developers facing debt crises. Evergrande, once a CSL powerhouse, spiraled into financial turmoil, leading to relegation and further sanctions.

The Collapse: Clubs Fold and Dreams Fade

The results were catastrophic. More than 40 professional clubs ceased operations in recent years. Jiangsu FC, fresh off a CSL title in 2020, was abruptly dissolved by its owners, who shifted focus elsewhere. Stadiums sat empty, players went unpaid, and even team buses were auctioned off in some cases.

The national team suffered repeated humiliations. China has qualified for the World Cup only once, in 2002, where they lost all three group games without scoring. Subsequent campaigns have faltered, including failure to capitalize on expanded Asian slots for 2026 qualifiers. Heavy defeats, such as a 7-0 loss to Japan, underscored the gap.

By the early 2020s, the exodus of foreign talent was complete. The CSL shifted toward younger, cheaper lineups, but recovery has been slow. As of 2026, many teams still grapple with debt, negative points deductions, and low competitiveness.

Lessons from China’s Football Fiasco

China’s football experiment reveals fundamental truths about the sport. Football cannot be manufactured solely through capital and state directives. Successful nations like Germany, Brazil, or even regional peers Japan and South Korea built success on robust youth academies, fan-driven cultures, independent governance, and long-term planning.

In China, the top-down approach prioritized short-term prestige and political signaling over sustainable ecosystem building. Corruption eroded credibility, while economic headwinds exposed the fragility of owner-dependent models. The “pyramid” of Chinese football was built upside down—lavish professional levels atop a shaky foundation.

For Chinese fans, who remain passionate despite the setbacks, the outcome is particularly frustrating. The sport offered a rare outlet for national pride, only to deliver disappointment. Broader implications extend to governance: over-reliance on state control and quick fixes can backfire in complex cultural domains.

A Cautious Path Forward?

Today, the CSL is attempting stabilization with more restrained spending, greater emphasis on local talent, and regulatory reforms. However, deep-rooted challenges—corruption, financial instability, and talent development—persist. The 2050 superpower vision has been quietly de-emphasized.

China’s story is a cautionary tale for any emerging economy or ambitious leader eyeing global sporting dominance. Billions can buy players and headlines, but they cannot instantly create a winning culture, passionate fanbase, or pipeline of world-class athletes. True success demands patience, investment in people, and respect for the game’s organic nature.

As the world prepares for future tournaments, China’s football remains a work in progress—rich in potential yet humbled by reality. The failed attempt to buy football may ultimately prove more instructive than any on-pitch triumph could have been.

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