The European class struggle behind Tether's acquisition of Juventus

Author: Sleepy.txt

Original Title: The Crypto Money Printing Machine Wants to Acquire Juventus: The Offensive and Defensive Battle of Old and New European Money

The world's largest stablecoin giant, Tether, is preparing to buy Italy's most iconic football powerhouse, Juventus.

On December 12, Tether submitted an acquisition offer to the Italian Stock Exchange, hoping to acquire 65.4% of Juventus shares held by the Exor Group at a price of 2.66 euros per share, which is 20.74% higher than the market price. If the deal is successful, Tether will also inject an additional 1 billion euros into the club.

This is an all-cash offer. No betting, no additional conditions, just "cash for shares, hand in hand." In the world of capital, this is the most straightforward form of sincerity, and Tether only gave the Exor Group a mere 10 days to consider.

However, the Exor Group, controlled by the Agnelli family, quickly issued a statement: "There are currently no negotiations regarding the sale of Juventus shares."

The implication is clear: not for sale.

Less than 24 hours later, renowned Italian journalist Eleonora Trotta reported that Tether was preparing to double its offer, directly raising Juventus' valuation to 2 billion euros.

The man at the center of the storm is named Paolo Ardoino.

In 1984, Paolo was born in an ordinary Italian town. His parents were civil servants, and his grandparents tended a traditional olive grove. It was a typical Italian childhood: black-and-white striped jerseys, the cheers of Allianz Stadium in Turin, and the glory of the Agnelli family—all forming the spiritual totem of his growing-up memories.

Thirty-two years later, the boy under the olive tree had grown into a Caesar of the crypto world, overseeing Tether, a super money-printing machine with an annual profit of $13 billion. Now, he returns home in glory, trying to buy his childhood dream and give back to the black-and-white faith that runs in his blood.

But reality gave his sentimentality a harsh lesson.

When Paolo enthusiastically knocked on Juventus' door, he was not greeted with flowers or applause. What awaited him was a nine-month-long exclusion and humiliation from the old world.

The Nine Months of Exclusion

The honeymoon period began in a nearly one-sided way.

In February 2025, Tether announced it had acquired 8.2% of Juventus shares, becoming the second-largest shareholder after the Exor Group. In the official statement, Paolo set aside his business acumen and, unusually, showed his softer side: "For me, Juventus has always been a part of my life."

Paolo thought this was a mutually beneficial deal: I have money, you need money, it's a perfect match. However, in Italy, some doors can't be opened just with money.

Two months later, Juventus announced a capital increase plan of up to 110 million euros. At this critical moment, when the club desperately needed a cash injection, Paolo, as the second-largest shareholder, was deliberately "forgotten." No phone call, no email, not even an explanation. The Exor Group didn't even bother to send him a polite rejection.

Paolo wrote a grievance-filled post on social media: "We hoped to increase our stake in Juventus through the club's possible capital increase, but this wish was ignored."

Paolo probably never felt so aggrieved in his life. A financial giant overseeing $13 billion in annual profits could only use social media to "remind" Juventus: I want to participate in the capital increase, I want to invest more, but I am not being taken seriously.

Some sympathized with Paolo, believing he was a true Juventus fan; others questioned his motives, thinking he just wanted to use Juventus to whitewash Tether's image.

No matter whether outsiders sympathized or doubted, in the eyes of the Agnelli family, Paolo was still an "outsider." From the beginning, the relationship between the two sides was not cooperation, but "defense."

If sentiment can't buy respect, then use money to buy it.

From April to October, Tether increased its shareholding from 8.2% to 10.7% through the open market. According to Italian law, holding more than 10% gives the right to nominate a board member.

On November 7, in Turin, at the Juventus annual shareholders' meeting, the atmosphere became unpredictable due to Tether's intervention.

Tether nominated Francesco Garino as a board candidate, a renowned local doctor in Turin and a lifelong Juventus fan. Paolo tried to tell everyone: we are not barbarians, we are sons of Turin, bound by blood.

The experienced Exor Group countered with a trump card: Giorgio Chiellini. This legendary captain, who played for Juventus for 17 years and won 9 Serie A titles, was pushed to the forefront.

This is Exor's strategy: use legends to fight capital, use sentiment to fight money.

In the end, Tether managed to win a board seat, but in a board absolutely controlled by the Agnelli family, one seat means you can listen, you can make suggestions, but don't think about touching the steering wheel.

John Elkann, the fifth-generation head of the Agnelli family, summed up: "We are proud to have been shareholders of Juventus for over a century. We have no intention of selling our shares, but we are open to constructive ideas from all stakeholders."

To put it more bluntly: this is not just business, this is our family's domain. You can come in for tea, but don't think about being the master here.

The Arrogance and Prejudice of Old Money

John's words are backed by 102 years of family glory and pride.

On July 24, 1923, 31-year-old Edoardo Agnelli took over as chairman of Juventus. From that day on, the fate of the Agnelli family and Juventus became tightly intertwined. The family's Fiat automobile empire was Italy's largest private enterprise for most of the 20th century, employing countless workers and supporting millions of families.

And Juventus is another symbol of the family's power. With 36 Serie A titles, 2 Champions League titles, and 14 Coppa Italia trophies, Juventus is the most successful club in Italian football history and a source of national pride for the Italian people.

However, the Agnelli family's history of succession is full of blood and cracks.

In 2000, Agnelli family heir Edoardo Agnelli jumped off a viaduct, ending his struggle with depression. Three years later, family patriarch Gianni Agnelli passed away. The baton of power had to be handed to his grandson, John Elkann.

John was born in New York and grew up in Paris. He speaks English, French, and Italian, but his Italian has a distinct foreign accent. In the eyes of many old-school Italians, he is just an agent who gained power through bloodline.

It took John a full 20 years to prove he was worthy of the Agnelli family.

He restructured Fiat, merged with Chrysler, and created Stellantis, the world's fourth-largest automotive group; he took Ferrari public, doubling its market value; he bought The Economist, extending the Agnelli family's influence from Italy to the world.

Unfortunately, the cracks within the family are becoming public. In September 2025, John Elkann's mother, Margherita, submitted a 1998 "will" to the Turin court, claiming that her father Gianni's inheritance was taken by John. Mother and son facing off in court is a huge scandal in family-honor-conscious Italy.

In this context, selling Juventus would be tantamount to admitting the end of family glory and admitting inferiority to ancestors.

To keep Juventus, John is frantically selling other family assets.

Just days before Tether's acquisition offer, the Exor Group was busy selling its GEDI media group to Greece's Antenna Group for 140 million euros. GEDI owns La Repubblica and La Stampa, two major opinion leaders in Italy, whose status in Italy is no less than Juventus' in Italian football.

The news caused a stir in Italy. The Italian government even invoked the "golden power" law, requiring Exor to protect jobs and editorial independence during the sale.

Newspaper losses are a liability and must be cut; Juventus' losses are a totem and must be kept.

This choice exposes the embarrassment of the old aristocracy. They can no longer maintain their former territory and can only try to keep the one that best represents family glory.

Therefore, even though Paolo's acquisition offer carries a market premium of up to 20%, John Elkann still sees it as a threat.

In the value system of European old money, the quality of wealth has a hierarchy of disdain.

Every penny of the Agnelli family is soaked in the smell of engine oil. It is an industrial monument built from steel, rubber, the roar of engines, and the sweat of millions of workers. This kind of wealth is tangible and visible; it represents order, control, and a century-long social contract.

But Paolo's money comes from cryptocurrency, from an industry that has grown wildly and controversially over the past decade.

There are plenty of cautionary tales.

Just a few years ago, blockchain company DigitalBits signed an 85 million euro sponsorship deal with Serie A giants Inter Milan and Roma, but DigitalBits defaulted on payments due to a broken capital chain, forcing both clubs to terminate the contracts, leaving a mess behind.

Not to mention the chain collapse of the crypto industry in 2022. At that time, Luna's logo was displayed at the Washington Nationals' stadium, and FTX's name was still on the Miami Heat's home court. In the eyes of the Agnelli family, the crypto industry is full of speculation and bubbles.

In the eyes of the Agnelli family, Paolo will always be an "outsider." Not because of his background, but because of his money.

A Totem in Need of Rescue

But the problem is, Juventus really needs money.

Juventus is now mired in trouble, all stemming from July 10, 2018, when Juventus announced the signing of 33-year-old Cristiano Ronaldo. A 100 million euro transfer fee, a net annual salary of 30 million euros, for four years.

This was the biggest transfer in Serie A history and the highest salary in Serie A history. Then Juventus chairman Andrea Agnelli, the fourth-generation head of the Agnelli family, excitedly said at the shareholders' meeting: "This is the most important signing in Juventus history. We want to win the Champions League with Cristiano Ronaldo."

The city of Turin was boiling. Fans flocked to Juventus stores to buy jerseys with Ronaldo's name. In just 24 hours after the signing, the club sold more than 520,000 jerseys, setting a record in football history. Everyone believed that Ronaldo would lead Juventus to the top of Europe.

But Juventus did not win the Champions League. In 2019, they were overturned by Ajax; in 2020, eliminated by Lyon; in 2021, beaten by Porto. In August 2021, Ronaldo suddenly left for Manchester United. Juventus not only failed to recover their investment but fell into an even deeper financial quagmire.

Actuaries later calculated the total cost, including transfer fees, salaries, and taxes: the total cost of signing Ronaldo was as high as 340 million euros. In his three years at Juventus, he scored 101 goals, averaging 2.8 million euros per goal.

For a club of Juventus' size, the Champions League is not just about honor, but a cash flow switch: broadcast revenue, matchday income, and bonuses in sponsorship contracts are all tied to the Champions League. Once they lose the Champions League, the books thin out immediately, and the team is forced to use accounting tricks to fill the gap.

Juventus sold Pjanić to Barcelona for 60 million euros and bought Arthur from Barcelona for 72 million euros. Officially, the two deals were unrelated, but everyone knew it was a carefully designed swap. Juventus only needed to pay a cash difference of 12 million euros, but could record tens of millions of euros in "capital gains" on the books.

This kind of accounting is not uncommon in football, but Juventus went too far.

Prosecutors found that over three years, the club inflated profits by 282 million euros through 42 similar suspicious transactions. After the scandal broke, the entire board, including chairman Andrea Agnelli, resigned collectively.

This was followed by punishments for the team: league points deductions, exclusion from the Champions League, and long-term bans for executives. This led to a vicious cycle: poor results led to reduced income, reduced income meant no new signings, and no new signings led to even worse results.

Starting with a loss of 39.6 million euros in the 2018-19 season, Juventus' financial situation has continued to deteriorate, with losses reaching 123.7 million euros in the 2022-23 season. From the peak of nine consecutive Serie A titles to years of huge losses, in November 2025, the Exor Group had to inject nearly 100 million euros into Juventus again.

This was already the third time in two years that Exor Group had to bail out Juventus. Exor Group also owns Ferrari, Stellantis, The Economist, and other assets, but Juventus' continued losses are eroding the group's profits. In the 2024 financial report, Exor Group's net profit fell by 12%, and analysts pointed out that Juventus has become a negative asset dragging down the group's performance.

John Elkann is caught in a dilemma, not knowing what decision to make.

And Paolo, with $13 billion in annual profits, is knocking at the door. He has money, he has patience, and he has love for Juventus.

This should have been a perfect deal, if not for the mountain called "class" standing in the way.

The Dream Under the Olive Tree

Paolo's knocking never received a response, so he made his own choice.

On December 12, Paolo bypassed all private roundtable meetings and directly made the offer public through the Italian Stock Exchange. Paolo forced John Elkann into a corner, making him answer this question in front of all of Italy: do you want money, or do you want family pride?

The news sent Juventus' stock price soaring, and the market expressed its desire for "new money." Both Gazzetta dello Sport and Tuttosport reported the story on their front pages, and the entire Apennine Peninsula is waiting for the Agnelli family's decision.

The Agnelli family's refusal was both expected and unexpected.

Expected, because the Agnelli family's pride would not allow them to bow to new money. Unexpected, because given their current financial situation, refusing such a huge sum requires a kind of tragic stubbornness.

For Paolo, he hopes to use the money he earned to save his childhood idol. After all, companies have nationalities. Although Tether is a globally operating digital nomad company, its CEO is Italian, and its heart is in Italy.

From the Agnelli family's perspective, they are guarding not just a club, but 102 years of family glory and a symbol of Italy's industrial era.

This is no longer a battle of business logic, but a clash of two beliefs.

In John Elkann's eyes, that bronze door must remain tightly closed, because standing outside is a speculator trying to whitewash his identity; but in Paolo's eyes, that door should be open, because standing outside is a child with Italian blood who can save this team.

However, the times are not on the side of the old aristocracy.

In the same week that Exor rejected Tether, Premier League champions Manchester City announced a renewal with crypto exchange OKX, with the shirt-front sponsorship worth over 100 million. European giants like Paris Saint-Germain, Barcelona, and AC Milan have all established deep partnerships with crypto companies. In Asia, Korea's K League and Japan's J League have also begun accepting crypto sponsorships.

New money entering traditional industries controlled by old money is no longer a question of "if," but "how." Football is just one battlefield. In the art auction world, Sotheby's and Christie's have begun accepting crypto payments; in real estate, luxury property transactions in Dubai and Miami can now be completed with bitcoin. The same conflict is playing out around the world.

Paolo's charge, whether successful or not, is testing the boundaries of this era: when a generation creates massive wealth in new ways, are they qualified to sit at the table long controlled by old money?

At the end of the story, the scene freezes on that olive grove in the countryside.

Thirty-two years ago, a black-haired boy sat there, listening to the sounds of his grandparents working, cheering for the black-and-white figures on TV. He never imagined that one day he would stand outside that door, waiting for an answer.

The tightly closed bronze door is still cold and imposing. Behind it lies a century of Agnelli family glory and the last glow of the old industrial era.

It has not opened for new money yet, but this time, the one knocking will not back down. Because he knows, opening this door is only a matter of time.