Tether, the world’s largest stablecoin giant, is preparing to acquire Italy’s most iconic football powerhouse, Juventus.
On December 12, Tether submitted a takeover offer to the Italian stock exchange, aiming to purchase the 65.4% stake in Juventus held by Exor Group at €2.66 per share, a premium of 20.74% over the market price. If the deal goes through, Tether will also inject an additional €1 billion into the club.
This is a fully cash-based offer. No gamble, no conditions, only “hand over the money, hand over the goods.” In the world of capital, this is the most straightforward sincerity, and Tether has only 10 days to consider this proposal.
However, 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: No sale.
Less than 24 hours later, renowned Italian journalist Eleonora Trotta leaked in a report: Tether is prepared to double the offer, directly raising Juventus’s valuation to €2 billion.
The person at the center of the storm is called Paolo Ardoino.
Born in 1984 in a small town in Italy, Paolo’s parents were civil servants, and his grandparents tended a traditional olive grove. It was a typical Italian childhood—striped jerseys, chants at the Torino Allianz Stadium, the glory of the Agnelli family—these shared memories formed his spiritual totems.
Thirty-two years later, the boy under the olive trees has become Caesar in the cryptocurrency world, managing Tether, a profit machine with an annual net income of $13 billion. Now, returning home in fine clothes, he tries to buy the childhood dream, to repay the bloodline of black and white faith flowing in his veins.
But reality has given him a lesson.
When Paolo, full of enthusiasm, knocked on Juventus’s door, he was met not with flowers or applause but with nine months of exclusion and humiliation from the old world.
Nine Months of Exclusion
The honeymoon phase began almost as unrequited love.
In February 2025, Tether announced it had acquired 8.2% of Juventus shares, becoming the second-largest shareholder after Exor Group. In the official statement, Paolo abandoned his typical shrewdness as a businessman, showing rare softness: “For me, Juventus has always been part of my life.”
Paolo thought it was a mutually beneficial deal: I have money, you lack money, and we hit it off. But in Italy, some doors aren’t opened just because you have money.
Two months later, Juventus announced a capital increase plan of up to €110 million. At this critical moment of blood transfusion, Paolo, as the second-largest shareholder, was deliberately “forgotten.” No calls, no emails, no explanations. Exor Group didn’t even bother to send him a goodwill card.
Paolo posted a grievance on social media: “We hoped to increase our stake through the club’s potential capital increase, but this wish has been ignored.”
Probably in his entire life, Paolo has never been so humiliated. A financial giant with an annual profit of $13 billion can only use social media to “remind” Juventus: I want to participate in the capital increase, I want to add my stake, but I am not taken seriously.
Some sympathized with Paolo, believing he is a true Juventus fan; others questioned his motives, suggesting he just wants to whitewash Tether’s image using Juventus.
Whether the outside world sympathizes or doubts, in the eyes of the Agnelli family, Paolo remains an “outsider.” Their relationship from the start was not cooperation but “defense.”
Since emotion cannot buy respect, he will buy it with money.
From April to October, Tether increased its shareholding from 8.2% to 10.7% through open market purchases. Under Italian law, holding more than 10% grants the right to nominate directors.
On November 7, in Turin, at Juventus’s annual shareholders’ meeting, the atmosphere became tense due to Tether’s interference.
Tether nominated Francesco Garino as a director candidate; he is a local Turin physician and lifelong Juventus fan. Paolo tried to tell everyone: we are not barbarians; we are blood brothers from Turin.
But the savvy Exor Group countered with a trump card—Giorgio Chiellini. The legendary captain who played 17 years for Juventus, winning 9 Serie A titles, was put front and center.
This is Exor’s strategy: use legends to counter capital, sentiment to oppose money.
Although Tether struggled to secure a board seat, in a board fully controlled by the Agnelli family, one seat only means you can listen and suggest but not control.
John Elkann, the fifth-generation head of the Agnelli family, summarized: “We are proud to have been shareholders of Juventus for over a century. We have no intention to sell shares, but we are open to constructive ideas from all stakeholders.”
A more straightforward translation of that sentence is: This is not just business; this is our family’s territory. You can come in for tea, but don’t think about becoming the master here.
Arrogance and Prejudice of Old Money
John’s words reveal a family 102 years of glory and pride behind them.
On July 24, 1923, 31-year-old Edoardo Agnelli took over as Juventus president. From that day, the Agnelli family’s fate was tightly intertwined with Juventus. Their Fiat automotive empire was Italy’s largest private enterprise for much of the 20th century, employing countless workers and supporting millions of families.
Juventus, on the other hand, symbolized the family’s power. With 36 Serie A titles, 2 Champions League trophies, and 14 Italian Cups, Juventus is Italy’s most successful football club and a source of national pride.
However, the Agnelli family’s legacy is filled with blood and cracks.
In 2000, Edoardo Agnelli, heir to the family, jumped from a highway overpass, ending his struggle with depression. Three years later, patriarch Gianni Agnelli passed away. The baton of power had to be handed to his grandson, John Elkann.
Born in New York and raised in Paris, John speaks English, French, and Italian, but with a noticeable foreign accent. Many traditional Italians see him merely as an agent who gained power through bloodline.
To prove himself worthy of the Agnelli name, John spent twenty years.
He restructured Fiat, acquired Chrysler, creating the global fourth-largest auto group Stellantis; took Ferrari public, doubling its market value; bought The Economist, extending the family’s influence from Italy to the world.
But internal cracks within the family are now surfacing publicly. In September 2025, John Elkann’s mother, Margherita, submitted a 1998 will to the Turin court, claiming that her father Gianni’s inheritance was usurped by John. Family litigation—an enormous scandal in Italy, where family honor is sacred.
Against this backdrop, selling Juventus would be akin to admitting the end of family glory, acknowledging they are no longer superior to ancestors.
To safeguard Juventus, John is desperately selling other assets.
Just days before Tether’s bid, Exor was busy selling its GEDI media group to Greece’s Antenna Group for €140 million. GEDI owns “la Repubblica” and “la Stampa,” Italy’s two major newspapers. Their position in Italy is no less significant than Juventus’s in Italian football.
The news caused an uproar nationwide. The Italian government even invoked the “Golden Power” law, requiring Exor to protect employment and editorial independence during the sale.
Loss-making newspapers must be cut; Juventus’s losses are a symbol that must be preserved.
This choice exposes the predicament of the old aristocracy. They can no longer maintain their former territories, only cling to the most symbolic emblem of family honor.
Hence, even with a 20% market premium, John Elkann still perceives Paolo’s bid as a threat.
In the values of old European wealth, the quality of wealth has a hierarchy of contempt.
Every penny of the Agnelli family oozes oil. It is built on steel, rubber, engine roars, and the sweat of millions of workers—an industrial monument. This wealth is tangible, representing order, control, and a century-long social contract.
Paolo’s money, on the other hand, comes from cryptocurrency—an industry that has grown wildly and controversially over the past decade.
The lessons from the past are vivid.
Just a few years ago, blockchain company DigitalBit signed sponsorship deals worth €85 million with Inter Milan and AS Roma. But DigitalBits defaulted on payments due to liquidity issues, forcing the clubs to cancel agreements, leaving chaos behind.
Not to mention the series of crypto crashes in 2022. Luna’s logo once hung at the Washington Nationals stadium, and FTX’s name was on the Miami Heat’s arena. From the Agnelli perspective, the crypto industry is full of speculation and bubbles.
In the eyes of the family, Paolo is always an “outsider.” Not because of his background, but because of his money.
A Totem in Need of Rescue
But the question is, does Juventus really need money?
Today’s Juventus is deeply mired in trouble, stemming from July 10, 2018, when Juventus announced signing 33-year-old Cristiano Ronaldo. A €100 million transfer fee, €30 million after tax annual salary, for four years.
This was the biggest transfer in Serie A history and the highest salary ever in Italy. Juventus president Andrea Agnelli, fourth-generation head of the family, passionately declared at the shareholders’ meeting: “This is the most important signing in Juventus history. We want to win the Champions League with Cristiano.”
Turin was in a frenzy. Fans rushed to Juventus shops to buy jerseys with Ronaldo’s name. Within 24 hours of signing, the club sold over 520,000 jerseys, setting a football record. Everyone believed Ronaldo would lead Juventus to European glory.
But Juventus failed to win the Champions League. In 2019, they were reversed by Ajax; in 2020, eliminated by Lyon; in 2021, defeated by Porto. In August 2021, Ronaldo suddenly left for Manchester United. Juventus not only failed to recoup the investment but plunged deeper into financial hardship.
Accountants later tallied: including transfer fees, salaries, and taxes, the total cost of signing Ronaldo was €340 million. He scored 101 goals in three years, with an average cost of €2.8 million per goal.
For a club of Juventus’s size, the significance of the Champions League is more than honor; it’s about cash flow: broadcast revenue, matchday income, sponsorship bonuses—all tied to the Champions League. Losing it would immediately thin the books, forcing the team to patch the gap with accounting tricks.
Juventus sold Pjanić for €60 million to Barcelona and bought Artur from Barcelona for €72 million. Officially, both transactions claimed to be unrelated, but everyone knew it was a carefully orchestrated back-to-back deal. Juventus only paid €12 million in cash but recorded tens of millions of euros as “capital gains.”
Such accounting tricks are not uncommon in football, but Juventus went too far.
Prosecutors found that over three years, the club artificially inflated profits by €282 million through 42 suspicious transactions. Once exposed, the entire board, including chairman Andrea Agnelli, resigned en masse.
The consequences: points deduction, disqualification from Champions League, and long-term bans for executives. This triggered a vicious cycle: declining team performance led to falling revenue, which led to inability to sign players, further worsening performance.
From a loss of €39.6 million in 2018-19, Juventus’s financial health deteriorated to a deficit of €123.7 million in 2022-23. From the peak of nine consecutive Serie A titles to today’s mounting losses, by November 2025, Exor had to inject nearly €100 million again.
This is the third time in two years that Exor has financed Juventus. Exor owns Ferrari, Stellantis, and The Economist, among others. Juventus’s ongoing losses are eroding the entire group’s profits. In 2024, Exor’s net profit fell 12%. Analysts say Juventus has become a liability weighing down the group’s performance.
John Elkann faces a dilemma, unsure how to proceed.
And Paolo, holding $13 billion in annual profits, is knocking on the door. He has the money, patience, and love for Juventus.
This should have been a perfect deal—if not for the towering obstacle called “class.”
Dream Under the Olive Trees
Paolo’s knocking went unanswered, so he made his own choice.
On December 12, he bypassed all private roundtable meetings and directly announced his offer on the Italian stock exchange. He cornered John Elkann, forcing him to answer publicly: do you want money or family face?
The news caused Juventus’s stock to soar, as the market expressed its desire for “new money.” Both “Corriere della Sera” and “La Stampa” featured front-page coverage, and the entire Italian Peninsula awaited the Agnelli family’s decision.
The family’s refusal was predictable yet beyond reason.
Predictable because the Agnelli family’s pride wouldn’t allow them to bow to new money. Beyond reason because, given their current financial situation, refusing this huge sum requires a nearly tragic stubbornness.
For Paolo, he hopes to use his own wealth to rescue his childhood idol. Companies are ultimately national entities; Tether, though a global digital nomad enterprise, has an Italian CEO and its heart in Italy.
From the Agnelli family’s perspective, they are not just protecting a club but safeguarding a century of family honor and a symbol of Italy’s industrial era.
This is no longer a game of business logic; it’s a collision of two beliefs.
In John Elkann’s view, that bronze door must remain tightly shut because outside stands a speculator trying to whitewash his identity; but in Paolo’s view, that door should open because outside stands a boy with Italian blood who can save the team.
However, the times are not on the side of old aristocrats.
In the same week Exor rejected Tether’s bid, Premier League champions Manchester City announced a renewal with crypto trading platform OKX, with jersey front sponsorship valued at over €100 million. European giants like Paris Saint-Germain, Barcelona, and AC Milan have already established deep collaborations with crypto firms. In Asia, leagues like K League in Korea and J League in Japan have begun accepting crypto sponsorships.
The influx of new money into traditional industries controlled by old money is no longer about “whether,” but “how.” Football is just one battlefield; in art auctions, Sotheby’s and Christie’s now accept crypto payments; in real estate, luxury homes in Dubai and Miami can be bought with Bitcoin. Similar conflicts are playing out worldwide.
Whether Paolo’s bold move succeeds or fails, he is testing the boundaries of this era: after a generation creates enormous wealth with new methods, do they have the right to sit at the old world’s poker table controlled by old money?
In the end, the scene freezes on the olive grove outside.
32 years ago, a black-haired boy sat there, listening to his grandparents working, cheering at the black-and-white striped figure on the TV. He never imagined that one day he would stand outside that door, waiting for an answer.
That closed bronze door still remains cold and imposing. Behind it lies a century of family glory and the last glow of the old industrial age.
It has not opened to new money, but this time, the one knocking will not back down. Because he knows, opening that door is only a matter of time.
View Original
This page may contain third-party content, which is provided for information purposes only (not representations/warranties) and should not be considered as an endorsement of its views by Gate, nor as financial or professional advice. See Disclaimer for details.
The crypto printing press aims to acquire Juventus: The battle between new and old European money
Author: Sleepy.txt
Tether, the world’s largest stablecoin giant, is preparing to acquire Italy’s most iconic football powerhouse, Juventus.
On December 12, Tether submitted a takeover offer to the Italian stock exchange, aiming to purchase the 65.4% stake in Juventus held by Exor Group at €2.66 per share, a premium of 20.74% over the market price. If the deal goes through, Tether will also inject an additional €1 billion into the club.
This is a fully cash-based offer. No gamble, no conditions, only “hand over the money, hand over the goods.” In the world of capital, this is the most straightforward sincerity, and Tether has only 10 days to consider this proposal.
However, 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: No sale.
Less than 24 hours later, renowned Italian journalist Eleonora Trotta leaked in a report: Tether is prepared to double the offer, directly raising Juventus’s valuation to €2 billion.
The person at the center of the storm is called Paolo Ardoino.
Born in 1984 in a small town in Italy, Paolo’s parents were civil servants, and his grandparents tended a traditional olive grove. It was a typical Italian childhood—striped jerseys, chants at the Torino Allianz Stadium, the glory of the Agnelli family—these shared memories formed his spiritual totems.
Thirty-two years later, the boy under the olive trees has become Caesar in the cryptocurrency world, managing Tether, a profit machine with an annual net income of $13 billion. Now, returning home in fine clothes, he tries to buy the childhood dream, to repay the bloodline of black and white faith flowing in his veins.
But reality has given him a lesson.
When Paolo, full of enthusiasm, knocked on Juventus’s door, he was met not with flowers or applause but with nine months of exclusion and humiliation from the old world.
Nine Months of Exclusion
The honeymoon phase began almost as unrequited love.
In February 2025, Tether announced it had acquired 8.2% of Juventus shares, becoming the second-largest shareholder after Exor Group. In the official statement, Paolo abandoned his typical shrewdness as a businessman, showing rare softness: “For me, Juventus has always been part of my life.”
Paolo thought it was a mutually beneficial deal: I have money, you lack money, and we hit it off. But in Italy, some doors aren’t opened just because you have money.
Two months later, Juventus announced a capital increase plan of up to €110 million. At this critical moment of blood transfusion, Paolo, as the second-largest shareholder, was deliberately “forgotten.” No calls, no emails, no explanations. Exor Group didn’t even bother to send him a goodwill card.
Paolo posted a grievance on social media: “We hoped to increase our stake through the club’s potential capital increase, but this wish has been ignored.”
Probably in his entire life, Paolo has never been so humiliated. A financial giant with an annual profit of $13 billion can only use social media to “remind” Juventus: I want to participate in the capital increase, I want to add my stake, but I am not taken seriously.
Some sympathized with Paolo, believing he is a true Juventus fan; others questioned his motives, suggesting he just wants to whitewash Tether’s image using Juventus.
Whether the outside world sympathizes or doubts, in the eyes of the Agnelli family, Paolo remains an “outsider.” Their relationship from the start was not cooperation but “defense.”
Since emotion cannot buy respect, he will buy it with money.
From April to October, Tether increased its shareholding from 8.2% to 10.7% through open market purchases. Under Italian law, holding more than 10% grants the right to nominate directors.
On November 7, in Turin, at Juventus’s annual shareholders’ meeting, the atmosphere became tense due to Tether’s interference.
Tether nominated Francesco Garino as a director candidate; he is a local Turin physician and lifelong Juventus fan. Paolo tried to tell everyone: we are not barbarians; we are blood brothers from Turin.
But the savvy Exor Group countered with a trump card—Giorgio Chiellini. The legendary captain who played 17 years for Juventus, winning 9 Serie A titles, was put front and center.
This is Exor’s strategy: use legends to counter capital, sentiment to oppose money.
Although Tether struggled to secure a board seat, in a board fully controlled by the Agnelli family, one seat only means you can listen and suggest but not control.
John Elkann, the fifth-generation head of the Agnelli family, summarized: “We are proud to have been shareholders of Juventus for over a century. We have no intention to sell shares, but we are open to constructive ideas from all stakeholders.”
A more straightforward translation of that sentence is: This is not just business; this is our family’s territory. You can come in for tea, but don’t think about becoming the master here.
Arrogance and Prejudice of Old Money
John’s words reveal a family 102 years of glory and pride behind them.
On July 24, 1923, 31-year-old Edoardo Agnelli took over as Juventus president. From that day, the Agnelli family’s fate was tightly intertwined with Juventus. Their Fiat automotive empire was Italy’s largest private enterprise for much of the 20th century, employing countless workers and supporting millions of families.
Juventus, on the other hand, symbolized the family’s power. With 36 Serie A titles, 2 Champions League trophies, and 14 Italian Cups, Juventus is Italy’s most successful football club and a source of national pride.
However, the Agnelli family’s legacy is filled with blood and cracks.
In 2000, Edoardo Agnelli, heir to the family, jumped from a highway overpass, ending his struggle with depression. Three years later, patriarch Gianni Agnelli passed away. The baton of power had to be handed to his grandson, John Elkann.
Born in New York and raised in Paris, John speaks English, French, and Italian, but with a noticeable foreign accent. Many traditional Italians see him merely as an agent who gained power through bloodline.
To prove himself worthy of the Agnelli name, John spent twenty years.
He restructured Fiat, acquired Chrysler, creating the global fourth-largest auto group Stellantis; took Ferrari public, doubling its market value; bought The Economist, extending the family’s influence from Italy to the world.
But internal cracks within the family are now surfacing publicly. In September 2025, John Elkann’s mother, Margherita, submitted a 1998 will to the Turin court, claiming that her father Gianni’s inheritance was usurped by John. Family litigation—an enormous scandal in Italy, where family honor is sacred.
Against this backdrop, selling Juventus would be akin to admitting the end of family glory, acknowledging they are no longer superior to ancestors.
To safeguard Juventus, John is desperately selling other assets.
Just days before Tether’s bid, Exor was busy selling its GEDI media group to Greece’s Antenna Group for €140 million. GEDI owns “la Repubblica” and “la Stampa,” Italy’s two major newspapers. Their position in Italy is no less significant than Juventus’s in Italian football.
The news caused an uproar nationwide. The Italian government even invoked the “Golden Power” law, requiring Exor to protect employment and editorial independence during the sale.
Loss-making newspapers must be cut; Juventus’s losses are a symbol that must be preserved.
This choice exposes the predicament of the old aristocracy. They can no longer maintain their former territories, only cling to the most symbolic emblem of family honor.
Hence, even with a 20% market premium, John Elkann still perceives Paolo’s bid as a threat.
In the values of old European wealth, the quality of wealth has a hierarchy of contempt.
Every penny of the Agnelli family oozes oil. It is built on steel, rubber, engine roars, and the sweat of millions of workers—an industrial monument. This wealth is tangible, representing order, control, and a century-long social contract.
Paolo’s money, on the other hand, comes from cryptocurrency—an industry that has grown wildly and controversially over the past decade.
The lessons from the past are vivid.
Just a few years ago, blockchain company DigitalBit signed sponsorship deals worth €85 million with Inter Milan and AS Roma. But DigitalBits defaulted on payments due to liquidity issues, forcing the clubs to cancel agreements, leaving chaos behind.
Not to mention the series of crypto crashes in 2022. Luna’s logo once hung at the Washington Nationals stadium, and FTX’s name was on the Miami Heat’s arena. From the Agnelli perspective, the crypto industry is full of speculation and bubbles.
In the eyes of the family, Paolo is always an “outsider.” Not because of his background, but because of his money.
A Totem in Need of Rescue
But the question is, does Juventus really need money?
Today’s Juventus is deeply mired in trouble, stemming from July 10, 2018, when Juventus announced signing 33-year-old Cristiano Ronaldo. A €100 million transfer fee, €30 million after tax annual salary, for four years.
This was the biggest transfer in Serie A history and the highest salary ever in Italy. Juventus president Andrea Agnelli, fourth-generation head of the family, passionately declared at the shareholders’ meeting: “This is the most important signing in Juventus history. We want to win the Champions League with Cristiano.”
Turin was in a frenzy. Fans rushed to Juventus shops to buy jerseys with Ronaldo’s name. Within 24 hours of signing, the club sold over 520,000 jerseys, setting a football record. Everyone believed Ronaldo would lead Juventus to European glory.
But Juventus failed to win the Champions League. In 2019, they were reversed by Ajax; in 2020, eliminated by Lyon; in 2021, defeated by Porto. In August 2021, Ronaldo suddenly left for Manchester United. Juventus not only failed to recoup the investment but plunged deeper into financial hardship.
Accountants later tallied: including transfer fees, salaries, and taxes, the total cost of signing Ronaldo was €340 million. He scored 101 goals in three years, with an average cost of €2.8 million per goal.
For a club of Juventus’s size, the significance of the Champions League is more than honor; it’s about cash flow: broadcast revenue, matchday income, sponsorship bonuses—all tied to the Champions League. Losing it would immediately thin the books, forcing the team to patch the gap with accounting tricks.
Juventus sold Pjanić for €60 million to Barcelona and bought Artur from Barcelona for €72 million. Officially, both transactions claimed to be unrelated, but everyone knew it was a carefully orchestrated back-to-back deal. Juventus only paid €12 million in cash but recorded tens of millions of euros as “capital gains.”
Such accounting tricks are not uncommon in football, but Juventus went too far.
Prosecutors found that over three years, the club artificially inflated profits by €282 million through 42 suspicious transactions. Once exposed, the entire board, including chairman Andrea Agnelli, resigned en masse.
The consequences: points deduction, disqualification from Champions League, and long-term bans for executives. This triggered a vicious cycle: declining team performance led to falling revenue, which led to inability to sign players, further worsening performance.
From a loss of €39.6 million in 2018-19, Juventus’s financial health deteriorated to a deficit of €123.7 million in 2022-23. From the peak of nine consecutive Serie A titles to today’s mounting losses, by November 2025, Exor had to inject nearly €100 million again.
This is the third time in two years that Exor has financed Juventus. Exor owns Ferrari, Stellantis, and The Economist, among others. Juventus’s ongoing losses are eroding the entire group’s profits. In 2024, Exor’s net profit fell 12%. Analysts say Juventus has become a liability weighing down the group’s performance.
John Elkann faces a dilemma, unsure how to proceed.
And Paolo, holding $13 billion in annual profits, is knocking on the door. He has the money, patience, and love for Juventus.
This should have been a perfect deal—if not for the towering obstacle called “class.”
Dream Under the Olive Trees
Paolo’s knocking went unanswered, so he made his own choice.
On December 12, he bypassed all private roundtable meetings and directly announced his offer on the Italian stock exchange. He cornered John Elkann, forcing him to answer publicly: do you want money or family face?
The news caused Juventus’s stock to soar, as the market expressed its desire for “new money.” Both “Corriere della Sera” and “La Stampa” featured front-page coverage, and the entire Italian Peninsula awaited the Agnelli family’s decision.
The family’s refusal was predictable yet beyond reason.
Predictable because the Agnelli family’s pride wouldn’t allow them to bow to new money. Beyond reason because, given their current financial situation, refusing this huge sum requires a nearly tragic stubbornness.
For Paolo, he hopes to use his own wealth to rescue his childhood idol. Companies are ultimately national entities; Tether, though a global digital nomad enterprise, has an Italian CEO and its heart in Italy.
From the Agnelli family’s perspective, they are not just protecting a club but safeguarding a century of family honor and a symbol of Italy’s industrial era.
This is no longer a game of business logic; it’s a collision of two beliefs.
In John Elkann’s view, that bronze door must remain tightly shut because outside stands a speculator trying to whitewash his identity; but in Paolo’s view, that door should open because outside stands a boy with Italian blood who can save the team.
However, the times are not on the side of old aristocrats.
In the same week Exor rejected Tether’s bid, Premier League champions Manchester City announced a renewal with crypto trading platform OKX, with jersey front sponsorship valued at over €100 million. European giants like Paris Saint-Germain, Barcelona, and AC Milan have already established deep collaborations with crypto firms. In Asia, leagues like K League in Korea and J League in Japan have begun accepting crypto sponsorships.
The influx of new money into traditional industries controlled by old money is no longer about “whether,” but “how.” Football is just one battlefield; in art auctions, Sotheby’s and Christie’s now accept crypto payments; in real estate, luxury homes in Dubai and Miami can be bought with Bitcoin. Similar conflicts are playing out worldwide.
Whether Paolo’s bold move succeeds or fails, he is testing the boundaries of this era: after a generation creates enormous wealth with new methods, do they have the right to sit at the old world’s poker table controlled by old money?
In the end, the scene freezes on the olive grove outside.
32 years ago, a black-haired boy sat there, listening to his grandparents working, cheering at the black-and-white striped figure on the TV. He never imagined that one day he would stand outside that door, waiting for an answer.
That closed bronze door still remains cold and imposing. Behind it lies a century of family glory and the last glow of the old industrial age.
It has not opened to new money, but this time, the one knocking will not back down. Because he knows, opening that door is only a matter of time.