
Manchester United and Barcelona represent two totally different philosophies. The former, despite questionable debts, is among the best of the mainstream in which clubs are like normal companies subject to buyout or take-over by the richest bidder.
It's a formula that entrusts a club to any businessman, who may not have the slightest clue about how football should be played as long as he has the funds to renovate or build a new stadium or buy expensive players.
Fans love this formula when new money pours in and leads to greater success. And this philosophy features a simple management structure that can facilitate swift commercial drives that capitalise on the borderless popularity of major football clubs.
Manchester United is a prime example of how money breeds success and more money, albeit along with debts. Chelsea is a showcase of how the arrival of big money can produce a major success overnight.
Barcelona is owned by fans in a model that regards the likes of Manchester United's Glazer family and Chelsea's Abramovich as unwanted ingredients to the football world. The Rome Champions League final on Wednesday pitted a club owned by some 160,000 fans against one whose fans frequently resented rising ticket prices and the financial manoeuvrings executed against their will.
While Manchester United fans can only boycott games to protest against management, Barcelona fans can kick the board out in an election.
The real values of the two formulas, however, cannot easily be measured. For one thing, Barcelona manages to keep the current system because the top teams in Spain get a far bigger slice of TV income than those at the bottom, while the "benefit-sharing" scheme of the British Premier League allows just a small gap between teams at both ends of the table, where TV rights are concerned. And when it comes to community programmes, Premier League teams are second to none.
There is no doubt, though, as to which formula is more romantic or idealistic. Last year, when a group calling itself Share Liverpool FC launched a campaign aimed at creating a stakeholder base of 100,000 fans to raise enough cash to oust much-maligned Americans Tom Hicks and George Gillett as owners of the much-loved Liverpool Football Club, the response was swift and positive.
The campaign ground to a halt when boardroom squabbles subsided and fans' disgruntlement eased, but this and the fact that Manchester United fans also kicked off a similar scheme almost around the same time served as a stern warning to the British status quo.
Sport is where realities and dreams meet up and try to overshadow each other. Even fans themselves can give up their dreams when reality becomes hopeless. Russian billionaire Roman Abramovich sparked a big controversy when he took over Chelsea, but after he embarked on the biggest spending spree in the transfer market's history, he became the fans' best friend.
Thaksin Shinawatra was embraced by financially ailing Manchester City despite his personal record that could breach the Premier League's "fit and proper" rules for club directors. Arab rich elite are also making inroads into the Premier League without a fuss.
The successes of both Manchester United and Barcelona mean the debate will continue on both business formulas. This probably leads us to the ultimate truth: values are better judged when the chips are down. What will the Glazer family do if suddenly the Manchester United brand can no longer make big money?
What will the 160,000 Barcelona fans do if their team falls from grace? When clubs face bankruptcy, what is more important - clueless new investors offering immediate money or fans equipped only with unyielding passion?
Although the likes of Ronaldo and Messi have come to represent every boy's dream, the inspiration is being provided against a backdrop of serious business. If the boys want to play, some people will have to pay. Football will have to continue its soul-searching, as it remains trapped between both worlds.