"This summer was the first time I asked myself why I still bother."
A loyal and weathered KFC Uerdingen fan shares his thoughts about the wreckage left by investors and mismanagement.
Housekeeping: In case you missed it, Unmodern Football is now also available in German – check it out here!
Multi-club ownership, Liverpool’s millions, PSG finally lifting the Champions League trophy.
It’s been another summer dominated by investor football.
And, once again, its harshest critics were handed proof on a silver platter – especially if you look at the wreckage left behind at Crystal Palace.
But we don’t need to look to England, France, Qatar or Saudi Arabia to talk about what unchecked capitalism does to the game.
One of the most dramatic implosions in recent football history happened right here, smack in Lower Rhine region in western Germay.
I remember it well – mid-90s, my room lined with Bundesliga Coca-Cola cans. One of them: Bayer Uerdingen. A club from Krefeld, playing top-flight football from ’83 to ’96, give or take a few detours.
Then Bayer pulled out.
Just like that.
From one day to the next, the sponsor dropped the club like a summer fling.
They called it sponsorship, but in hindsight it was pure investor dependency. The club was renamed KFC Uerdingen – and the freefall began.
Straight down into the murky swamp of amateur football, never to fully recover.
There was a flicker of hope in the 2010s when a new investor came on board. Uerdingen clawed its way back into professional football. But investor football, as it so often does, exposed one of its core truths:
Money doesn’t guarantee success. And once the guy bankrolling the whole thing gets bored of his toy? Good night.
Now, the former DFB Cup winner plays in the fifth-tier Oberliga.
A ghost of its former self.
Still – the fans show up. Thousands of them. Week in, week out.
One of them is Johannes Floehr. I wanted to know what it does to a person – emotionally, mentally – to watch investors come and go, leaving nothing but rubble behind.
UF: Johannes, what’s the emotional state of a passionate KFC Uerdingen fan in September 2025?
Johannes: The last match was a 6–1 win in front of 2,000 fans at Grotenburg, so – good! The most important thing is still what happens on the pitch. But I won’t lie: last season left its mark. We had a great, young team in the Regionalliga West, and to see it all go to waste – the time, the money, but especially the emotion – that hit hard. I haven’t bought a season ticket this year for the first time in ages. Not out of protest or to make a point. Quite the opposite – I’m grateful for everyone still involved in any way. I just couldn’t bring myself to go through the motions again, to say for the umpteenth time: “Forget it, let’s give the new people a chance.” But I don’t want to whine. I read somewhere being a Bayern fan is tough too, because some good player signed elsewhere or whatever. No idea.
UF: You mentioned trust. There’ve been countless leaps of faith. What made last season’s collapse different from the many before?
Johannes: The fact that we went into insolvency again, so soon after the last one – and then shut down operations before the season even ended. It’s our fifth bankruptcy this century, and it never gets easier. This time, we probably came closer to being erased from the registry than ever before. That really got to me, mentally. I’ve been going to KFC games my whole life – I know almost everyone by face. And now, in the Oberliga, there’s this tightrope walk: on one hand, gratitude that the club still exists. On the other, we’ve got too much tradition and too many fans for this to be our “sporting home.” That dissonance has led us to overspend, again and again. Just look at last season: we had ex-2. Bundesliga players in the squad, while youth coaches weren’t being paid. Rent and social security contributions ignored. Letters unopened at the club office. As a fan, that’s embarrassing.
UF: That sounds a bit like resignation. But how much anger is left in you?
Johannes: Time for a classic: I’m not angry – I’m disappointed. This summer was the first time I asked myself why I still bother. One of our youth teams had a crucial promotion match, and I was glued to the live ticker. I realised: this mattered more to me than any Bundesliga or Champions League match. Sure, it’s nice when a team you like wins, but when KFC wins – no matter who it’s against, or in what league – it carries you through the week. You’re in the supermarket, and you suddenly remember: oh right, we smashed Biemenhorst 6–1! And yeah, maybe part of being a KFC fan is wallowing in the whole mess. Maybe that’s how we process it.
UF: Let’s talk about the investor era. It started with a boom in 2016. Nearly a decade later, the club’s on life support. How do you view football investors now?
Johannes: When we were in the 3. Liga, it was the first time in nearly 20 years of being a KFC fan that I could see away games outside of NRW. Before that, we were in leagues where I could cycle to away matches. One season, we played SV Straelen’s first and second team. And lost all four games. So when we finally made it to the Sportschau and I could travel to places like Kaiserslautern or Rostock – it felt like a reward for sticking it out. I was too uncritical of the investor back then. I even wrote a little text defending him in 11Freunde. I’m still embarrassed about that. Because even if those were successful years on the pitch, we wasted massive opportunities. All the money went to the first team. Zero investment in infrastructure or youth. If someone turned up today with millions, I’ll be honest – I’d at least listen to their plan. But no more one-man rule, no total dependency, like with Ponomarev or Bayer. The club and its members come first. That said: the amount of money in football makes me sick. People act like the Woltemade transfer was finally too much. As if 30 or 12 million wasn’t already insane. “Honest” football? Doesn’t exist at pro level anymore. But you can still watch football round the corner, not just on Sky, Wow, Magenta or DAZN.
UF: Totally feel that. I’m becoming more alienated from everything above the 2. Liga. And yeah, investment’s unavoidable – but there are other models. In Bielefeld, local companies stepped in as a collective. They bring expertise, supervise without dominating. Could something like that work in Uerdingen?
Johannes: That would be ideal. And it’s been attempted before. But the problem in Krefeld is: every new leadership team goes to the same local companies and promises “this time it’ll be serious.” Mid-term, we should aim to be like Fortuna Köln or Rot-Weiß Oberhausen: ambitious and stable in the Regionalliga. But right now, even that’s a way off. We’re not among the promotion favourites. Still – if Bielefeld has any more tips, send them over! We need humility, patience – and above all, expertise. We can offer something in return: how to win a DFB-Pokal final. Was 40 years ago though.
UF: We could use some humility ourselves. Been on the edge of the abyss too many times to act cocky. But hey – look at Duisburg. Things can get better. So: imagine it’s five years from now – where’s KFC?
Johannes: I honestly don’t care what league we’re in. As long as there’s a team in blue and red playing at the Grotenburg. It’s never boring, that’s for sure. And if we manage to pay all player wages on time for a few Aprils in a row – that’d be a fun twist. One way or another: nur der KFC!
UF: We fans always think we could run the club better. And some fan-owned clubs do exist – where supporters have real influence. Would you support that for Uerdingen? I’d chip in a tenner if you started a crowdfunding.
Johannes: We tried that. "Fans on the board" ended with – surprise! – bankruptcy. So it depends which fans. I sure as hell wouldn’t do a better job. That’s the sad part. But hey, we’ll take your tenner! You can get a “POKALSIEGER 1985” keychain or sticker at the fan shop. Maybe even an A4 Grotenburg print.
UF: Sold. But yeah, financial literacy matters. Fan passion alone won’t cut it. Still – don’t you think a community model could work for a club like KFC? Look at FC United of Manchester, Hearts, Austria Salzburg...
Johannes: That would mean splitting the club. And the fans – the few thousand still showing up – are our biggest strength. We have to work together. Then we won’t need a breakaway club. But for bigger clubs, sure – totally valid option. And some spin-offs already play against the “originals”, like in Salzburg or Porto. One more thing on membership: We went years without a single members’ assembly, despite the bylaws. One was aborted earlier this year. Fans collected signatures for two extraordinary assemblies – both blocked by court, thanks to the current board. Another one’s planned for late October. I hope it happens. Whatever else – members deserve transparency. That goes for us and all registered clubs in Germany.
UF: Final question. How important is 50+1 for football and its culture?
Johannes: For me and the readers here? Incredibly important. For your average consumer? Probably not. They want to keep up with the Premier League and obsess over the UEFA coefficient. I love the football culture here. But I do fear things will keep getting worse. VAR, the looming Super League, everything FIFA does – it’s all crap. 50+1 will collapse the second a Champions League spot is at risk. Sorry – I’m being very negative, aren’t I? Not the goal! I do still love football. Braunschweig vs Stuttgart in the Pokal. Grimsby Town vs Man Utd. Florian Wirtz! Love watching him. Or the Werder coach Horst Steffen – ex-Uerdingen. He radiates that “nothing’s more important on Saturday than football” energy. But I think he’d still coach amateur teams with the same passion. Love that. A guy who lives for football. Hope there’ll always be people like that – no matter how much money gets dumped into the world’s greatest sport. Wait... what was the question again?
Johannes Floehr is a writer and comedian. His favourite football club (since 2001) holds a world record: 8 consecutive lost penalty shoot-outs. An ongoing series – for now.