Editor's Note:  Marjolaine is an attorney admitted to the Geneva bar (Switzerland) who specialises in sports and life sciences.   She currently participates as a scientific collaborator at the University of Neuchâtel on a research project to produce the first article-by-article legal commentary of the 2015 World Anti-Doping Code. Her latest book Evidence in Anti-Doping at the Intersection of Science & Law was published in 2016 in the International Sports Law Book Series of T.M.C. ASSER Press.

INTRODUCTION

On 30 September 2016, a panel of the Court of Arbitration for Sport (“CAS”) rendered its award in the matter opposing high-profile tennis player Maria Sharapova to the International Tennis Federation (“ITF”). Maria Sharapova was appealing the two-year ban imposed on her by the ITF Tribunal in June 2016 for her use of Meldonium, a substance newly added to the WADA Prohibited List 2016[1]. Since neither the ITF nor WADA had chosen to challenge the Tribunal’s decision, the stakes of the case were rather simple: would the player convince the CAS panel that she should benefit from a finding of “No Significant Fault or Negligence”[2], thereby allowing for a reduction of the sanction down to a minimum of one year, or should the decision of the Tribunal be upheld? In its award, the CAS panel decided to grant such finding and reduced the sanction to 15 months.

This blog does not purport to be a ‘comment’ on the CAS award. Rather, it seeks to place the Sharapova matter into a broader context with respect to a specific issue: the expectations on Athletes when it comes to their awareness of the prohibited character of a substance, specifically when taking a medication[3]. In July 2016, I presented at the T.M.C Asser Institute in The Hague various current challenges of anti-doping that the Meldonium cases exposed (see the video here). One of these challenges concerned the modalities for including new substances onto the Prohibited List. This blog represents a follow-up on my presentation, in the light of the findings contained in the CAS award.

More concretely, the blog takes as a starting point one finding in the award, made by the CAS panel when evaluating whether the player acted reasonably in entrusting her sport agent – who lacked any medical or other scientific qualification – with ensuring that her medication scheme stayed compliant with the World Anti-Doping Program[4]:

“checking a substance against the Prohibited List is not an action for which specific anti-doping training is required. It is expected to be made, as a rule and under Article 3.1.2 of the TADP, by the player personally, and a player does not need to have scientific or medical expertise for such purpose. No standard in the WADC or otherwise raises such a high bar”[5].

This statement may have raised some eyebrows among readers familiar with anti-doping, after years of repeated warnings that Athletes should not only consult a doctor before taking a medication, but preferably a doctor versed in sports medicine, and that they have to take responsibility for failing to do so if the medication turns out to be prohibited.

CAS JURISPRUDENCE: BETTER SEE TWO DOCTORS THAN ONE

Since many – if not most – substances on the Prohibited List are originally therapeutic products, there is a rich body of CAS case law revolving around the Athlete’s duty to seek specialized advice before taking a medication. As the panel in the Cilic v. ITF matter noted, Athletes have a reinforced duty of care, in particular: “[w]here the product is a medicine designed for a therapeutic purpose. Again, in this scenario, a particular danger arises, that calls for a higher duty of care. This is because medicines are known to have prohibited substances in them”[6].

Though the basic position taken in the Cilic v. ITF appears uncontradicted or even supported in other CAS decisions[7], CAS case law is fluctuating on the level of diligence that can be expected from Athletes when taking a medication. It seems common ground that failure to consult a health professional is a factor pleading against the Athlete when assessing his or her degree of Fault, and, conversely, that seeking professional advice tends to make the Fault lighter[8]. The exact contours of the diligence expected, and the consequences of a failure to exercise such diligence, however, are less uniformly defined. Circumstances taken into account may include: whether the Athlete acted in an emergency or had ample time to do verifications[9]; whether the Athlete did seek some professional advice (although not necessarily fully qualified one) or proactively enquired about risks related to doping[10]; whether the Athlete initially received clearing through a doctor and was simply careless in continuing use of the medication[11], or used the medication without any attempt to seek a prescription altogether[12]; and whether the Athlete subsequently obtained a Therapeutic Use Exemption (“TUE”)[13].

Nevertheless, there seems to be consensus among CAS panels on at least one point: failure to recognize the prohibited character of the active substance in a medication never justifies a finding of No Fault or Negligence, even upon (erroneous) advice from a qualified health professional[14]. This jurisprudence finds explicit support in the Comment to Article 10.4 of the WADC: “Athletes are responsible for their choice of medical personnel and for advising medical personnel that they cannot be given any Prohibited Substance”[15]. The idea behind the jurisprudence is clear: it avoids that Athletes could ‘hide’ behind the advice of a doctor, who would then simply admit to having made an egregious error[16]. The CAS panel’s statement in the Sharapova matter seems to put in question this apparently well-established point of jurisprudence: if, as the panel assumed, the WADC only expects the Athlete to personally check a substance against the Prohibited List, no Fault can be held against the Athlete if it can be shown that the prohibited character of the substance was not recognizable to the Athlete, irrespective of whether such prohibition would have been obvious to a qualified health professional.

HOW CAN AN ATHLETE VERIFY WHETHER A MEDICATION IS PROHIBITED?

Putting aside for a moment the consistency of the Sharapova award with past CAS jurisprudence and its impact on the WADC system as a whole, the finding of the CAS panel raises a more practical question: is it realistic to consider that there is no duty on the Athlete to call on scientific or medical expertise to determine whether a substance is prohibited?

In order to assess this question, let us imagine the situation of an Athlete who plans to take – or is already taking – a medication, and wants to make sure that the substance does not raise any doping issues:

1. The Athlete would need to know that the substance will (as a rule) not be listed by its brand or trade name, but by the name of the active substance. More precisely, WADA announced in 2014 that it seeks to enhance the clarity of the Prohibited List by using the nomenclature of the WHO International Non-Proprietary Name (“INN”). The rationale for always listing active substances rather than trade names is rooted in a reality of international sports that one and the same active substance may be marketed under different names in different countries. For example, ‘Meldonium’ is a WHO recommended INN, which is marketed, among others, under the name ‘Mildronate’. While the distinction should be obvious to a health professional, it is much less certain that determining the active substance will always lie within the abilities of an Athlete. In the Sharapova matter, the player did in fact argue that both her manager and she “mistakenly, but honestly, believed Mildronate to be the name of the substance and did not realize that it was a brand name”[17].
2. The Athlete would need to know that the exact chemical name and spelling of a substance may vary depending on usage, language and country[18]. Thus, an automatic search through the Prohibited List is not sufficient. The Athlete would either need to do a search for all potential spellings and/or read through a few hundred substances on the List, since it is hardly imaginable that the Athlete would be able to determine on his or her own within which class of substances the medication falls. In addition, some substances may have synonyms that do not appear on the Prohibited List, but only in accompanying documents such as a WADA Explanatory Note[19]. Searching a drug database established by the Athlete’s National Anti-Doping Organization (“NADO”) is not necessarily a fool proof method either, since NADOs typically only include in their database therapeutic products that are registered or otherwise approved for sale in the relevant country[20]. Thus, a negative search result may simply mean that the medication has not (yet) obtained approval in the country.
3. An additional factor to take into account is the ‘open’ nature of the Prohibited List. The List is non-exhaustive, in the sense that it does not list each Prohibited Substance by its name. Instead, most classes include a list of examples followed by a catch-all clause. For these non-named, ‘similar’ or ‘related’, substances, the Athlete would thus need to assess whether the medication has a chemical structure and/or effect similar to other substances named on the Prohibited List[21].
4. Finally, it would be difficult to advise the Athlete as to what entity – prior to the CAS panel in a doping dispute – would have the authority to preventively ‘clear’ a substance upon enquiry. A negative search result on the WADA Prohibited List search engine appears with the following response: “No results: If a Substance or a Method you have searched for is not found, please verify with your Anti-Doping Organization to ensure that this Substance or Method is not prohibited as a related Substance or Method that falls under an existing category”.

However, it is not clear at all under the current system that an International Federation or NADO have the authority to issue a binding clarification in this respect, and WADA does not appear prepared to take on this ‘clearing’ function. In fact, the WADA Q&A on the Prohibited List openly acknowledges that the status of some substances may not be clear-cut and that “it is in the best interest of the athlete to refrain from taking any substance or use any method if its status is unknown or unclear”[22].

Considering the elements above, one may legitimately question the idea expressed in the CAS award that checking a substance against the Prohibited List is an act that is to be performed by the Athlete personally and that there is no expectation in the WADC that the assessment should be done by a qualified professional.

AN ISSUE OF FAULT OR AN ISSUE OF PREDICTABILITY?

There is some truth to the statement in the Sharapova award in the context of the WADC, but not in the sense one would expect: when it comes to finding that a violation has been committed, the WADC does not care whether one could reasonably expect the Athlete to be aware of the prohibited character of the substance. Article 3.2.1 of the ITF Tennis Anti-Doping Programme (“TADP”) referenced in the award addresses the dynamic character of the prohibition under the WADA Prohibited List and reads, in fine[23]: “It is the responsibility of each Player and each Player Support Personnel to be familiar with the most current version of the Prohibited List”. The expression “responsibility of each Player” – which reflects the duty expressed in Article 2.1 of the WADC – has never been understood as meaning that Athletes are only expected to check the Prohibited List personally. It means that Athletes will need to carry the consequences if they are not aware of its current content.

This regulatory situation is implicit in all awards in which CAS panels are asked to deal with an argument that the Athlete was not aware of the prohibited character of the substance: as soon as a substance is determined to be prohibited and was present in the Sample, there is no question that an anti-doping rule violation was committed under Article 2.1 of the WADC[24]. Rather, the predictability is examined, if at all, under the angle of the degree of Fault, to determine the severity of the applicable sanction under Article 10[25].

By contrast, if the statement by the CAS panel in the Sharapova matter were to be taken literally, the debate would no longer be limited to the degree of Fault, but would directly affect the predictability of the prohibition for the Athlete. If the WADC truly only expected Athletes to personally check a substance against the Prohibited List, the predictability of the prohibited character would have to be defined according to an Athlete’s capabilities. There are arguments to support such a position: anti-doping rules of an International Federation – including the Prohibited List incorporated therein – are made binding on Athletes through contractual (or otherwise consensual) means. As early as 1994, the panel in Quigley v. UIT noted that: “any legal regime should seek to enable its subjects to assess the consequences of their actions”[26]. An analogy with the fiction nemo censeture ignorare legem, developed with respect to state law, is difficult to sustain. In a contractual context, the contents of the parties’ agreement needs to be interpreted based on what the other party could reasonably understand[27]. Even if elite Athletes undertake to keep themselves informed about the evolution of the rules, this implies that there may be certain limits on this undertaking.

Thus, if one were to follow the CAS panel’s findings in Sharapova that Athletes are expected to check the Prohibited List personally, one would need to deny the predictability of the prohibition in each case in which the prohibited character of the substance could not reasonably be recognized by the Athlete him- or herself, and thus find that an element of the anti-doping rule violation is missing. While a literal reading of the statement may evoke such an extreme outcome, it is unlikely that the CAS panel had in mind such implication for its statement. There is no other indication in the award that the CAS panel meant to question the ‘fiction’ of awareness of the prohibition that has been generally accepted in CAS jurisprudence, or its corollary of strict liability. In fact, the arbitrators were not asked to do so, since Maria Sharapova did not challenge the anti-doping rule violation itself.

MORE COMMUNICATION IS NOT ALWAYS BETTER COMMUNICATION

The reason why CAS panels refrain from analyzing the issue under the angle of legal predictability – apart from the fact that the parties generally do not raise this defence – is probably because, unlike the degree of Fault, predictability of the scope of the prohibition allows for no graduation: either the finding of an anti-doping rule violation can be supported, or it cannot.

Accordingly, CAS panels prefer to attenuate the harshness of the regime by evoking a framework of ‘reciprocal’ duties between Anti-Doping Organizations and Athletes. This is also perceivable in the Sharapova award, in which the CAS panel expressed its view that: “anti-doping organizations should have to take reasonable steps to provide notice to athletes of significant changes to the Prohibited List, such as the addition of a substance, including its brand names”.

The extent of the “reasonable steps” expected from the Anti-Doping Organizations, and the repercussions in case of a failure to take appropriate steps in a particular matter, however, is not clear[28]. In particular, the Sharapova award does not clarify whether the communication has to be such that the Athlete can genuinely be expected to verify the prohibited character of a substance personally, without specialized assistance. Though the sections in the Sharapova award addressing this issue could convey such an impression, it is unlikely that this was the CAS panel’s intent. Other paragraphs regarding the ‘delegation test’, on the contrary, clearly point at an inevitable need for medical support. As part of their assessment of the player’s Fault, the panel noted a default to instruct and supervise her agent, in particular: “to put him in contact with Dr Skalny [the physician who had prescribed the medication to Maria Sharapova] to understand the nature of the Skalny products”. According to the panel, if an Athlete could simply delegate their obligations to a non-trained third party without properly instructing them, “such a finding would render meaningless the obligation of an athlete to avoid doping”. Between the lines, the CAS panel thus acknowledges that it is part of an Athlete’s duty of diligence to involve a physician when circumstances so warrant.

In our view, the level of communication expected from Anti-Doping Organization must take into account the nature of the substance, as well as the channels through which an Athlete is supposed to come into contact with this substance. As far as medications are concerned, communication that makes the prohibited character of a substance easily identifiable for a health professional (e.g. a doctor or a pharmacist), would appear an adequate and sufficient level of communication. There is no doubt that the Prohibited List has evolved to a degree of complexity that imposes heightened duties on Anti-Doping Organizations to do their share to prevent inadvertent violations. However, while appropriate communication is essential, caution must be applied with respect to communication of information of a very technical nature. The information related to the Prohibited List is at the intersection of two technical domains: it is both a legal and a scientific-medical document. In this constellation, one should also factor in the risk that more communication would merely increase the potential for misunderstanding. It might be preferable for Anti-Doping Organizations to refer to one unique document with accurate and precise language that can be interpreted reliably by the relevant professional, than to draft multiple ‘information notices’, ‘warnings’ etc. attempting to adapt the information to lay-persons also, but in which each minor change of wording may create new ambiguities. Of note, this also supposes an appropriate training and awareness on part of the health professions, in particular those practitioners who know they are regularly dealing with sportspeople.

THE NEXT MISSION OF ANTI-DOPING: SAFER ELITE SPORT?

The finding in the Sharapova v. ITF award that no anti-doping training is needed to ascertain the status of a substance, and that the check is to be conducted, as a rule, by the Athlete personally, without scientific or medical qualifications being required, should not be taken in isolation from its context. It would be dangerous to assign too strong a precedential value to this element in the CAS panel’s analysis. In other sections of the award, the CAS panel acknowledged - at least between the lines - that checking a medication against the Prohibited List without appropriate specialized advice is not commendable and would hardly be sufficient to consider that the Athlete discharged his or her duties of diligence under the WADC.

More generally, CAS panels have so far refrained from assessing the predictability of the prohibited character of a medication as a requirement for establishing an anti-doping rule violation. However, they do seem to recognize that there are certain duties on Anti-Doping Organizations to assist Athletes in properly performing their own duties under the WADC. Communication deemed insufficient will not invalidate an anti-doping rule violation, but may be taken into account in reducing the Athlete’s degree of Fault. This can be viewed as an incentive towards intensified communication efforts on part of the anti-doping movement, but without jeopardizing the prohibition itself in individual cases.

Ultimately, the lesson to retain from the Sharapova award – and the Meldonium cases in general – goes beyond the duty for Athletes to be aware of the prohibited character of a substance. The underlying question that these cases raise is the health risk involved in elite sport, and the Athlete’s willingness to go to great lengths to practise at the highest level. There is widespread abuse of medications – sold over-the-counter or reused after an initial prescription – in the population in general[29]. Athletes are not an exception, but the problem seems to be exacerbated by competitive sport, where Athlete often feel they depend on a ‘quick fix’ to a health condition to meet their goals[30].

As pointed out in a previous comment to the ITF Tribunal Decision in Sharapova, it is not for adjudicatory bodies to deliver a ‘moral’ judgement on the manner in which elite sport should be practised. The CAS panel was asked to consider whether Maria Sharapova was at Fault with respect to her anti-doping duties, not whether she was conveying a ‘respectable’ or ‘responsible’ image of elite sport, or whether she was acting reasonably in terms of healthcare.

Nevertheless, given the WADC’s stated goal of protecting the Athlete’s health, the anti-doping movement cannot entirely disregard the messages that are sent out to Athletes when it comes to the use of medication. CAS awards indirectly reflect the panels’ perceptions on the subject, and the diverging attitudes that also coexist in health systems in general. In the eyes of some CAS panels, including in the matter of Maria Sharapova, taking a medication without medical supervision or outside the purposes for which the medication was prescribed does not seem to constitute Significant Fault[31]. When Athletes are at times held to extremely high standards of care for taking nutritional supplements[32], or even for being sabotaged at a social drink[33], CAS panels should be mindful not to encourage Athletes to view self-medication as part of their training routine.

[1] The decision was commented on http://wadc-commentary.com/sharapova/

[2] The capitalized words in the text are terms defined in the World Anti-Doping Code (« WADC »).

[3] Defining what is to be considered a ‘medication’ for purposes of anti-doping is a delicate topic in itself and will be the object of a separate analysis in a future blog. Within the context of the Sharapova decision, typical ‘medications’ envisaged here are those in the core domain of prescription drugs, without regard to borderline cases (health supplements, herbal remedies, functional food etc.).

[4] The CAS panel chose a tripartite test known in the liability of the employer in Swiss tort law, based on the ‘three culpa’ : culpa in eligendo (lack of diligence in choosing the person), culpa in instruendo (lack of diligence in instructing the person), or culpa in custodiendo (lack of diligence in supervising the person) (see Sharapova award, para. 85). The details of this test and its appropriateness for the context of anti-doping will be analyzed on the WADC Commentary Anti-Doping Blog http://wadc-commentary.com/antidopingblog/ .

[5] Sharapova award, para. 88 iii.

[6] CAS 2013/A/3335, Cilic v. ITF, para. 75 b.

[7] CAS 2016/A/4371, Lea v. USADA, para. 91, limiting, however, this duty of diligence to the situation « of an athlete taking prescribed medication fo the first time »; in the Sharapova award, para. 84, the panel also insisted that Athlete cannot be expected in each case to meet all factors proposed in the Cilic guidance.

[8] “Did the athlete consult appropriate experts” is a factor to assess the Athlete’s objective Fault in the guidance issued in CAS 2013/A/3335, Cilic v. ITF, para. 74; CAS 2015/A/3876, Stewart v. FIM, paras 77/78; CAS 2011/A/2645, UCI v. Kolobnev & RCF, para. 92, with further references; CAS 2006/A/1133, WADA v. Stauber, para. 39.

[9] CAS 2006/A/1133, WADA v. Stauber, para. 36.

[10] CAS 2008/A/1565, WADA v. CISM & Turrini, para. 66.

[11] CAS 2011/A/2645, UCI v. Kolobnev & RCF, paras 87 & 93.

[12] CAS 2010/A/2229, WADA v. FIVB & Berrios, para. 100 ; CAS 2011/A/2585, WADA v. Marino & UCRA, para. 112.

[13] CAS 2015/A/3876, Stewart v. FIM, paras 77 & 84.

[14] CAS 2008/A/1565, WADA v. CISM & Turrini, para. 63 ; CAS 2006/A/1133, WADA v. Stauber, para. 35 ; CAS 2005/A/828, Koubek v. ITF, para. 60; even applied to an Athlete who was administered the substance as part of an emergency treatment in hospital but failed to subsequently enquire about the substance that had been administered (CAS 2006/A/1041 Vassilev v/ FIBT & BBTF); even applied if the tournament organization delivered the wrong medication after prescription by the official tournament doctor (CAS 2005/A/951, Cañas v. ATP).

[15] See also Article 21.1.4 of the WADC, whereby Athletes are “to take responsibility to make sure that any medical treatment received does not violate anti-doping policies and rules adopted pursuant to the Code”.

[16] CAS 2006/A/1133, WADA v. Stauber, para. 35.

[17] Sharapova award, para. 43 v.

[18] See e.g. the stimulant spelt “metamfetamine” in the WADA Prohibited List, is spelt “methamphetamine” in FDA-approved drugs.

[19] CAS 2013/A/3075, WADA v. Szabolcz, para. 9.8.

[20] See e.g. the drug enquiry database of Swiss Anti-Doping: “This database contains drugs authorized in Switzerland, only.”

[21] For a critical analysis, see Viret Marjolaine (2016), Evidence in Anti-Doping at the Intersection of Science & Law, T.M.C Asser Press / Springer, The Hague, pp 465-479.

[22] For more details, see Viret Marjolaine (2016), Evidence in Anti-Doping at the Intersection of Science & Law, T.M.C Asser Press / Springer, The Hague, pp 472-477.

[23] This provision concretizes Article 4.1 of the WADC.

[24] In CAS OG 12/07, ICF & Sterba v. COC & IOC, which involved a non-listed stimulant, the CAS panel noted that the use of the substance by the Athlete “could have been avoided if indeed the substance had been expressly included on the Prohibited List or in any other data base that can be easily accessed with modern technology and the internet”, but added that “This, of course, does not change the fact that the Anti-Doping violation occurred”, but was “important and relevant in respect to assessing and examining the level of fault of the Respondent and the consequential sanction” (para. 6.6.18).

[25] See e.g. CAS 2016/A/4371, Lea v. USADA, para. 92, citing the CAS jurisprudence that “athletes should have clear notice of conduct that constitutes an anti-doping rule violation”, but only to determine the degree of fault involved in failing to anticipate the excretion time needed for a substance prohibited In-Competition only.

[26] CAS 94/129, quoted in CAS 2016/A/4371, Lea v. USADA, para. 92.

[27] This was explicitly recognized, though with respect to a violation of failure to submit to Sample collection, in CAS 2008/A/1557, FIGC, Mannini & Possanzini v. WADA, paras 6.15 et seq.

[28] For a more extensive analysis, see the upcoming contribution on the WADC Commentary Anti-Doping Blog,

[29] E.g. the WHO warnings about antibiotics resistance acquired through inadequate use of antibiotics without specialized advice (e.g. prescribed for viral infections, or patients using the rest of their tablets when they experience similar symptoms).

[30] See e.g. the current debate surrounding the use of glucocorticoids among elite Athletes, and the use of TUEs for common health conditions after the data leaks revealed by hackers.

[31] CAS 2016/A/4371, Lea v. USADA, para. 91, in which the Athlete had taken a medication prescribed for pain relief as a sleep aid, as he had witnessed his teammates do.

[32] CAS 2009/A/1870 WADA v. Hardy & USADA, para. 120.

[33] CAS 2008/A/1515, WADA v. Daubney & Swiss Olympic, para. 125.

Our first report on the FIFA business dealt with FIFA’s revenues and highlighted their impressive rise and progressive diversification. In parallel to this growth of FIFA’s income, it is quite natural that its expenses have been following a similar path (see Graph 1). However, as we will see FIFA makes it sometimes very difficult to identify precisely where the money is going. Nonetheless, this is precisely what we wish to tackle in this post, and to do so we will rely on the FIFA Financial reports over the last 10 years.

The question of the final destination of FIFA’s money is a contentious one. Many allege that FIFA executives may be profiting directly or indirectly from the revenues amassed. In order to better understand to what end FIFA’s money is disbursed, we have gathered the data contained in FIFA’s Financial Reports over a 10 year time frame and we have adjusted the numbers for inflation, thus easing any comparison. This data is synthetized in Graphs 2 and 3.

Graph 2 provides a comparative overview of the evolution of the expenses of FIFA in absolute numbers. This shows that event-related and personnel expenses (to a lesser extent also other operating costs) have been rising, while FIFA’s expenses on development and committees and congresses have remained more or less stable. Graph 3 confirms that the evolution of FIFA’s expenses is not linear, but general lessons can be drawn. The event-related expenses have been representing more than 50% of FIFA’s expenses for 4 years out of the last 5 (2010 stands out as an outlier). The trend towards the reduction of the share of FIFA’s development expenses is clearly observable (from 25% of total expenses in 2003 to 15% in 2013). This trend was only reversed in the particular context of the South-Africa World-Cup in 2010. Besides that, the share of expenses linked to wages and personnel has remained fairly stable (from 7% in 2003 to 8% in 2013). Finally, the share of the other operating costs is difficult to compare across the years, as FIFA has changed its accountancy system. Nonetheless, one can assume that from 2007 onwards, other operating expenses and Football governance (Legal costs and Committees and Congress expenses) expenses should be read together to match the previous understanding of the notion of operating expenses. Thus, read together, operating expenses would have risen from a 16% share in 2003 to a 20% one in 2013. 

Graph 2: FIFA Expenses (per stream) in USD million (adjusted for inflation) 2003-2013

Graph 3: Share FIFA expenses over 2003-20013

FIFA’s expenses are concentrated on the organization of its events (see Graph 4). In 2013, 58% of the expenses incurred by FIFA were event related (Graph 3). Indeed, since 2003 FIFA’s expenses on its events have increased from USD 286 million in 2003 to USD 728 million in 2013. However, it is very difficult to extract from the reports provided by FIFA the precise objects of these expenses. It should be noted that the organizing country is tasked with the financing of the main infrastructural investments (stadium, transportation etc…), leaving little infrastructural costs bearing on FIFA. The event-related expenses can be traced back to the financing of the local FIFA World Cup Organizing Committee (the Brazilian committee received up to USD 221.6 million), prize money, travel and accommodation costs of the FIFA officials and the participating teams and other expenses. Furthermore, they also include the FIFA Club Protection programme that compensates clubs in case of injuries suffered by players while on duty with their national teams.

Graph 4: FIFA Event-related Expenses in USD million (adjusted for inflation), 2003-2013

FIFA is often keen on trumpeting its development-related investments. It is even a key argument to justify its public utility: FIFA is to favour the development of football worldwide. This myth falls partially apart when one looks at the numbers and at their recent trajectory. Indeed, as shown in Graph 5, since 2003 (omitting the exceptional South-African peak of 2010) the Development-related expenses of FIFA have remained fairly stable (139 USD million in 2003, 185 USD million in 2013), in spite of the tremendous growth of both its overall revenues and expenses. Thus highlighting that FIFA has not been very keen on developing redistribution streams in favour of its members, the players or the supporters. Furthermore, the development schemes of FIFA are notoriously lacking transparency and their ability to achieve any real trickle-down effect is not warranted. The recent corruption scandals surrounding former FIFA vice-president Jack Warner, have highlighted the risks of this development aid getting lost in the pockets of corrupted local football officials. If FIFA is serious about football development, and not only interested in PR, it should overhaul its development funding scheme, both in terms of absolute numbers and of its institutional set-up.

Graph 5: FIFA Development related expenses in USD million (Adjusted to inflation) 2003-2013

On the other hand, FIFA’s own personnel costs have grown over the last 10 years (Graph 6) from 37 USD million in 2003, to 103 USD million in 2013. FIFA employs 400 staff members at its administrative centre in Zurich. The administration of FIFA is a costly enterprise. In 2013 the operating expenses reached 219 USD million (Graph 8), this includes the personnel expenses (Graph 6), but not the football governance expenses (the Committees and Congress expenses in Graph7 and legal expenses), overall the operating cost reaches 276 USD million! Those costs, especially the one dubbed other operating costs (Graph8) are relatively obscure. What do they include? Personnel (102 USD million in 2013), information technology, buildings and maintenance (22 USD million in 2013), taxes and duties (17 USD million in 2013), depreciation and amortization (12 USD million in 2013), communications (31 USD million in 2013) and other non determined expenses (32 USD million in 2013); but without providing any more details about the concrete content of those categories. This lack of explanation can only play in the hand of those that dismiss FIFA altogether as an organization interested solely in its own wealth and well-being. One is left puzzled by the amount of the operating costs, which are neither disbursed for the organization of specific events (those are the event-related expenses in Graph 4), nor for the organization of important meetings (those are the Congress and Committees expenses in Graph 7). It may be that the FIFA building’s toilet are made of gold or that its canteen is a three-star Michelin restaurant, but if so we would like to know.

Graph 6: FIFA Personnel Expenses in USD million (Adjusted to inflation) 2003-2013

Graph 7: FIFA Committees and Congress Expenses in USD million (Adjusted to Inflation) 2003-2013

Graph 8: FIFA Other Operating Expenses in USD million (Adjusted to inflation)

Finally, FIFA has constituted a richly dotted war chest. Over the last 10 years of economic success it has amassed huge financial reserves (Graph 9), reaching up to 1453 USD million in 2013. Money lying still at a Swiss bank instead of being invested in the development of football. This money is making money for FIFA through the interests it produces. However, one can wonder why FIFA would need to hold onto such a mountain of cash, instead of redistributing in (in one way or another) to the ‘football family’. This perceived need is illustrative of the transformation of FIFA into a proper business, far remote from the interests of football and its actors.

Graph 9: FIFA reserves in USD million (Adjusted to inflation)

Conclusion: Follow the money…

We have tried to follow FIFA’s money, in order to better understand if some of the criticisms raised against the management of FIFA were justified. From a macro point of view one fact needs to be highlighted: FIFA has been making a lot more money over the last 10 years and very few of this additional money has been redistributed via its football development schemes. In fact, it is the only stream of outgoings that has seen its share in FIFA’s overall expenses drastically cut from 25% to 15% over the last 10 years. FIFA should take its development programmes seriously if it is to continue relying on them to argue its good faith and willingness to contribute to global welfare.

Moreover, one characteristics of FIFA’s financial report is the lack of transparency and readability of the data. One is challenged to figure out what certain categories concretely mean. FIFA is spending a lot for things that cannot be traced easily. At a micro-level, there is an urgent need for external observers to be able to go through the detailed account of FIFA. One of the trigger for rumoured, but also probably for real, instances of corruption lies in the fact that the supervisory mechanisms provided by public scrutiny (through the press and other institutions) is rendered moot by the accounting walls built by FIFA to isolate its spending from the public’s eye.

Eventually, FIFA must let us (and help us to) follow its money. This would be a giant step towards countering the corruption allegations being made and also legitimating the role of FIFA as the governing institution of world football. If the ‘football family’ is able to see and control the path followed by FIFA’s money, the trust in FIFA as an institution will most likely improve.

Editor’s note: Kester Mekenkamp is an LL.M. student in European Law at Leiden University and an intern at the ASSER International Sports Law Centre. This blog is, to a great extent, an excerpt of his forthcoming thesis, which he shall submit in order to complete his master’s degree.

This final blog aims to provide some broader perspective, by sketching first the grander scheme in which Article 19 RSTP – FIFA's provision on the protection of minors – operates. Thereafter, the focus will shift towards testing Article 19 RSTP, thereby keeping in mind the previous blogs (Part 1: The Early Years and Part 2: The 2009 reform and its aftermath), against EU free movement law.  

Putting Article 19 RSTP into perspective: The bigger picture

After having investigated the nuts and bolts of FIFA’s provision on the protection of minors in the first two parts of this blog, it might be useful to address its bigger picture.

Article 19 RSTP and its accompanying provisions regulate only a small share of the targeted activity. There is, unfortunately, also an illegal world. Circumvention of the prohibition is allegedly commonplace.[1] Visas and passports can be falsified.[2] Work permits can be obtained on the basis of jobs arranged by clubs.[3]

In any event, a larger dynamic constituted out of a multitude of intertwined forces is at play. Globalization and professionalization are important factors contributing to stardom in football. Football idols, especially those originating from non-European countries, like Messi, Neymar, Suarez, Drogba and Eto’o, symbolised a world of opportunity for millions of children in the developing world eager to follow that same path to global fame.[4] In many parts of South America and Central and West-Africa, where families are driven by the impetus to improve their daily lives and clubs eager to cash FIFA’s training compensation money, an entire training industry emerged with the sole objective of exporting young talents to European clubs.[5] A horrifying example of the (ultimate) consequences this process can generate was seen in 2007: A fishing trawler washed up on a Tenerife beach carrying 130 young African men, of which 15 were made to believe that they would attend trials at Olympique Marseille and Real Madrid.[6] Add to the mix a group of agents focused almost exclusively on harvesting young boys for the international football market, and one can easily understand the extreme difficulty faced by FIFA to rein these practices.[7]

It is evident that the case of minors wanting to transfer internationally is closely related to a broader set of socio-economic difficulties faced by an extremely unequal world. Wars, famine, drought, corruption and the severe economic disparity[8] between the developing and developed world are determinants that can simply not be ignored. National laws applicable to asylum, migration and trade are also part of the equation. The subject of this blog hence opens up a doorway to global complexity. A true protection of minors will therefore undoubtedly require a broader approach than solely measures concerning the world of football. Yet, FIFA’s article 19 could potentially contribute to improving the fate of some minors in the developing world. The question is, does it in practice?  

Arguments supporting the prohibition of international transfers of minors

Former FIFA and UEFA presidents, Blatter, Platini, and Johansson, have all promoted an absolute forbiddance of international transfers of minors.[9] Although such a total ban was never introduced, the 2001 “Commission-condoned” FIFA transfer rules for the first time included a section dedicated to the enhancement of the protection of minors.[10] An accompanying FIFA circular stipulated that the new transfer rules imposed strict conditions “in order to provide a stable environment for the training and education of players”.[11] Moreover, it stated that the abuses, which were frequent in the past, had to be curbed. [12] Crucial in this is “protecting the appropriate and stable development of a minor as a whole”, which includes the training and education of these players.[13]

Another argument supporting Article 19 is its objective to tackle human trafficking. By strictly limiting the possibility for international transfers of minors, it takes the wind out of the traffickers’ sails. The significance of this aim was acknowledged by the European Parliament and the Commission.[14]

The thought behind the prohibition, being open to exception only in specific cases, is that minors are vulnerable, especially when moving to foreign countries. It tries to prevent football from breaking up families and “allows [minor football players] to remain within their country of origin and family networks for longer and hence reduces the psychological and cultural problems associated with adjusting to foreign climes”.[15] FIFA hereby acknowledges that “[w]hile international transfers might, in specific cases, be favourable to a young player’s sporting career, they are likely to be contrary to the best interests of the vast majority of players as minors”.[16] Poli came to a similar conclusion (concerning migration of football players in general) by stating that “the few examples of upward career paths mask the many cases of failure and are sufficient to convince young people and their families that it is worth giving oneself body and soul to football, often to the detriment of school training or an apprenticeship”.[17] 

Arguments against the prohibition of international transfers of minors

There is an opposite narrative that calls Article 19 RSTP’s rationale partially into question.[18] It can be argued that for certain countries (keeping in mind the abovementioned), with respect to the aim of protecting young football players against potential abuse and exploitation through the appropriate and stable development in training and education, minors are in reality not served by staying in their home State.[19] Furthermore, it can be contended that migration by young football players from a developing country to a developed one can be a “viable livelihood strategy to lift an individual and therefore vicariously their family out of poverty”.[20] Paradoxically a measure “with the aim of protecting minors … may, in fact, reduce opportunities for youth living in developing countries”.[21] Moreover, one must beware of an ethnocentric judgement. The argument has been raised that even in cases where third world immigrants had failed with respect to their sporting careers, they considered themselves to have succeeded, “thanks to football”, since they could come to Europe and stay.[22] It becomes a positive “escape”, which stands in contradiction with the whole idea underlying Article 19 RSTP.[23] As we will see in the coming sections, this discussion is key to the evaluation of the compatibility of FIFA’s rule with EU law. 

The Compatibility of Article 19 RSTP with EU free movement law

Applicability

For the purpose of this blog it is assumed that EU free movement law is applicable to Article 19 RSTP in relation to minor football players with an EU nationality. EU minors below the age of 16 might be able to rely on the EU citizenship rights and the free movement right of their parents. Furthermore, it can be reasonably argued that, by referring to inter alia Lawrie Blum[24], EU minor football players of 16 and above can be deemed workers in the sense of the free movement of workers. 

Free movement law aspects

A few aspects that could be deemed restrictive of EU Free movement rights deserve some attention. These are separated into situations concerning either the rights of the minor football player itself, or the rights of their parents.

Article 19(2)(b), the “EU and EEA-rule”, is explicitly created in order for the provision as a whole to meet the requirements of EU free movement law.[25] Yet, the free movement of minors is restricted by the fact that they can only transfer to a club within another Member State once additional criteria concerning football training, education and living arrangements are complied with.[26] These extra criteria, intrinsically, make it harder for minor football players to move to a foreign club. Furthermore, EU minors below the age of 16 are unable to rely on this exception. As already mentioned at the beginning of the blog, this particular age group is unlikely to perform economic services against remuneration in the sense of a “worker” under Article 45 TFEU. Nonetheless, one could envisage that under-16 EU minors could be able to rely on their citizenship rights enshrined in Article 21 TFEU (together with Art. 34(2) of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights) as non-economically active EU migrants.

Moreover, under-16 EU minors might be able to rely on the free movement rights of their parents. In short, the reason why an EU national decides to move to another Member State and take up work there is irrelevant under EU free movement law. To the contrary, Article 19 RSTP puts an emphasis on the underlying reason, as the “parents-rule” of Article 19(2)(a) RSTP can only be invoked where the player’s parents move to the country in which the new club is located “for reasons not linked to football”. The CAS has hereby clarified that the family’s move must be entirely disconnected from the transfer of the minor in a new football club. Under the FIFA rule, it is for example insufficient to establish that the move is partially connected to their child’s football activities, although not being the primary aim.[27] Hence, if (a) parent(s) would want to move to another Member State to take up work there for the, sole or partial, reason that their child can play for a club in that country, Article 19 RSTP will deter them from doing so. As such, the contested rule may thus amount to a provision that precludes or deters the parents from leaving their country of origin in order to exercise their right to free movement as workers. 

Is Article 19 RSTP a proportionate measure under EU law?

The previous sections demonstrated that there is some room to argue that Article 19 RSTP could run counter EU Internal Market law, which could form a basis for future challenge to the provision. Regardless of whether this will ultimately be the case, the provision might benefit from some amendments. It goes without saying that the aim is on its face value laudable. Protecting minors against abuses connected to the transfer market must remain a priority. The manner in which this objective has been given practical effect has not been without criticism.

By encouraging minor football players to remain in their home country, the measure is certainly likely to contribute to them enjoying an appropriate and stable development in training and education. Furthermore, by introducing a strict regulatory regime, it lessens the chance of human traffickers using international football transfers as a cover for trafficking purposes. Therefore, it can be argued that the measure is suitable to attain its aim of protecting minors.

It then still has to be assessed whether it passes the test of necessity. As concluded at the time of its inception, an absolute ban on international transfers of minors was deemed too pervasive. The exceptions assured the overall appropriateness and reasonableness of the measure. This test raises in particular the question of existence of less intrusive alternatives. I would argue that there is indeed a less intrusive alternative to the current rule available. It involves a slight amendment of the “parents-rule” and would still attain the aim underlying the overall provision. This is achieved by firstly, omitting the requirement for the parents’ move “not to be linked to football”, and secondly, extending the mandatory obligations of clubs regarding the education and wellbeing of foreign minors, laid down in Article 19(2)(b), to the “parents-rule”. 

Proposed amendment to the “parents-rule”

Article 19(2)(a) RSTP, the “parents-rule”, has shown to be controversial. It has, to give but an example, been stated that this exemption has “effectively made the [entire] rule worthless”. [28] As discussed in the previous blogs, the case law is marred with disputes arising with respect to this exception, wherein the judicial bodies have advocated a strict application of the rule. In brief, the minor must follow its parents and not vice versa. Yet, circumvention of the rule appears to be quite simple.[29] Without implying that this is a sufficient reason for changing the measure, it nevertheless does show that its current form is rather impractical (or hypocritical).

It can be reasonably argued that permitting an international transfer only if the parents move based on “reasons not linked to football” is too stern. There are examples of outcomes being adverse to the interests of the minors concerned, for instance the Acuña case.[30] Even stronger is the appeal by families who have decided to move together to another country in order for the children to pursue their dream of becoming a professional footballer.[31] In the words of the father of a 15-year-old player who was denied to play for FC Barcelona (after they, as a family, had moved from the US to Spain with that particular aim): “Why should FIFA be able to tell our family where it has to live if we want our kid to play [football]?”[32] Indeed, why should families not be able to move out of their own accord, provided that they meet the general criteria for residence within the new country? If for instance a family has enough financial resources to not become a burden on the social welfare systems or both parents find employment within the new country, they obtain the required residence permits, and as a result their child can play for the club of his choosing, it is hard to argue that this is contradictory to the aim of Article 19 RSTP. The CAS has been receptive to this type of arguments in the previously discussed case concerning Atlético Madrid, in which a minor (USA) was allowed to register with the club amongst others because his family was wealthy and its basic financial maintenance was not dependent on the parents’ work.[33] One could rightly contend that less affluent families should equally have the possibility to move together with their child to the country of a new club. Such a move, in particularly when considering a transfer from a club in a developing country to a European club, could be in line with the aim of Article 19 RSTP. Furthermore, the comparison with other sports, i.e. volleyball, hockey, tennis, rugby and athletics, shows that in those sports minors are not explicitly prohibited from moving, together with their parents, to another country in pursuit of their sporting dream.[34] The same can be said, when the children pursue a career in music or dance and the family moves to the place where he or she can learn from the best mentors.

It is no coincidence that the “parents-rule” is the most debated exception of Article 19 RSTP. One can easily agree that it is beneficial (in a vast majority of cases) for minors to keep living with their parents as it enhances their chances of having a stable development. However, does this also have to entail in which country that might be? This author does not believe so and would favour a situation where parents are allowed to move together with their child to another country, whether that is for reasons linked to football or not.

It can be tentatively pleaded that this can be realized, while still reaching the aims of Article 19 RSTP. As abovementioned, this can be achieved by, firstly, omitting the requirement for the parents’ move “not to be linked to football”, and secondly, by extending the mandatory obligations of clubs regarding the education and wellbeing of foreign minors as laid down in the “EU and EEA-rule” (Article 19(2)(b) RSTP), to the “parents-rule”. This alternative measure would warrant the objective of “appropriate and stable development in training and education”, given that the minor and his parents remain a united family and the clubs are additionally made responsible for ensuring that their sporting and academic education is guaranteed. To also attain the anti-human-trafficking aim, this proposed alternative should be safeguarded from abuse by way of legal guardianship (e.g. situations where human traffickers are able to obtain the status of legal guardian of a minor). Therefore the meaning of parents, within the reading of this exception, should constitute solely the biological parents at first. Perhaps it is possible for the PSC subcommittee to devise a suitable test, based on the minor’s best interest, for judging whether anyone other than the biological parents could equally be deemed eligible under this exception.

In an attempt to contribute to the debate on the protection of minors in football, this blog has proposed a modest reform of Article 19 RSTP. It is believed that such a change would tackle some of the problems withnessed in the past years, without loosing sight of the objectives of FIFA's provision on the protection of minors in football.  

[1] J. Señík and T. Gábris, Minors in Sport. Position Paper on Legal Aspects of Minors in Sports in the Slovak Republic, (2010) International Sports Law Journal, p. 69.

[2] Ed Hawkins, The Lost Boys. Inside Football’s Slave Trade. Bloomsbury (2015), inter alia pp. 135, 162 and 229.

[3] S. Van den Bogaert, Practical Regulation of the Mobility of Sportsmen in the EU post Bosman, Kluwer (2005), p. 240; Supra at 2, p. 165.

[4] Supra at 2, pp. 115-116.

[5] J. Schokkaert, Football clubs’ recruitment strategies and international player migration: evidence from Senegal and South Africa, 17 Soccer & Society (2016), p. 121; The Guardian, “The scandal of Africa's trafficked players”, 6 January 2008,; Supra at 2, pp. 117-129.

[6] The Telegraph, “The dark side of football transfers”, 31 December 2014; Supra at 2, p. 132.

[7] R. Poli, African migrants in Asian and European football: hopes and realities, 13 Sport in Society (2010), p. 1008. For more on player’s agents, see A. Duval and K. Mekenkamp, “De- or Re-regulating the middlemen? The DFB’s regulation of intermediaries under EU law scrutiny at the OLG Frankfurt”, Asser International Sports Law Blog.

[8] J. Schokaert showed, supra at 5, p. 132, in comparison, that an economically higher developed country, such as South Africa as opposed to Senegal, which attracts more money to domestic football and higher wages for football players, resulting in more players to stay in their home country. 

[9] Supra at 1, p. 68.

[10] Art. 12 FIFA RSTP 2001.

[11] FIFA Circular no. 769, 24 August 2001.

[12] N. St. Cyr Clarke, The beauty and the beast: Taming the ugly side of the people’s game, 2011 Columbia Journal of European Law, p. 627.

[13] See Blog 1; Commentary on the Status and Transfer of Players, p. 58.

[14] European Parliament, Report on the future of professional football in Europe (2006/2130(INI)), paras. 33-34; The White Paper on Sport, COM(2007) 391 final, p. 16.

[15] P. Darby, “Out of Africa: The exodus of elite African football talent to Europe”, JLS 2007, p. 453.

[16] FIFA, September 2016, “FAQ Protection of Minors”, 

[17] Supra at 7, p. 1008.

[18] J. Esson, Better Off at Home? Rethinking Responses to Trafficked West African Footballers in Europe, Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 2015, pp. 526-527.

[19] M. LoPiccolo, You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here: Problems arising when SIJS meets international adoption, Wisconsin International Law Journal 2015, pp. 200-201.

[20] Supra at 18, p. 521.

[21] M. Mauro, Inclusive sport or institutional discrimination? New FIFA regulations, organized football and migrant youth in Italy, Sport in Society 2016, p. 2.

[22] R. Poli, African migrants in Asian and European football: hopes and realities, 13 Sport in Society (2010), p. 1009.

[23] P. Darby and E. Solberg, Differing Trajectories: Football Development and Patterns of Player Migration in South Africa and Ghana, 11 Soccer and Society (2009), pp. 118–130.

[24] Case 66/85, Lawrie Blum v Land Baden-Württemberg, [1986] ECR 2135, para. 17: the crucial elements are that, for a certain period of time, a person performs services for and under the direction of another person in return for which he receives remuneration.

[25] See blog 1.

[26] Art. 19(2)(b) RSTP: Hereby, it is important to indicate that the CAS in Vada II (TAS 2012/A/2862) has established a workable account for the particular case of players with the nationality of a EU or EEA Member State residing in a non-EU/EEA country, by allowing them to invoke this exception.

[27] TAS 2011/A/2494, FC Girondins de Bordeaux c. Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA), sentence du 22 décembre 2011 (Vada I), paras. 31-38; CAS 2013/A/3140, A. v. Club Atlético de Madrid SAD & Real Federación Española de Fútbol (RFEF) & Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA), award of 10 October 2013 (A. v. Club Atlético de Madrid), para. 8.25.

[28] Supra at 2, p. 246.

[29] KEA, CDES and EOSE, Study on Sports Agents in the Eurropean Union, November 2009, p. 128; Supra at 3, p. 240.

[30] See blog 2.

[31] The New York Times, “An American Boy Wonder in Barcelona”, 7 November 2013.

[32] The New York Times, “Strict Enforcement of FIFA Rules Sidelines Young Players Abroad”, 31 Augustus 2015.

[33] See blog 2; A. v. Club Atlético de Madrid, Supra at  28, para. 8.31.

[34] Supra at 30, pp. 127-129.

In the same week that saw Europe’s best eight teams compete in the Champions League quarter finals, one of its competitors received such a severe disciplinary sanction by FIFA that it could see its status as one of the world’s top teams jeopardized. FC Barcelona, a club that owes its success both at a national and international level for a large part to its outstanding youth academy, La Masia, got to FIFA’s attention for breaching FIFA Regulations on international transfers of minors.  Unfortunately, at the moment FIFA has not published the decision of the Disciplinary Committee on this case, therefore our analysis is mainly based on the two official statements of FIFA and FC Barcelona.

When FC Barcelona signed the 13 years-old South Korean Lee Sung Woo, in 2011, they thought they found the “new Lionel Messi”. Little did they know that this under-aged Korean football player was to be one of the sources of the legal trouble they are in now. On 5 february, 2013, the Club received the request from FIFA via the Spanish Football Federation (RFEF) to provide information concerning the registration of Lee. Over the course of 2013, FIFA further asked FC Barcelona for additional information on other players. By December 2013, FC Barcelona provided FIFA information on a total of 37 minors.

According to FIFA’s official statement FC Barcelona has been found to be in breach of art.19 of the Regulations on the Status and Transfer of Players (hereinafter “the Regulations”). In this regard, special attention was focused on ten minors signed between the years 2009 and 2013, including the abovementioned Lee. According to article 19 of the Regulations, international transfers of players are only permitted if the player is over the age of 18, or 16 if the player is transferred within the territory of the European Union[1]. Also according to FIFA, the RFEF has been found to have breached the same article 19 of the Regulations in the context of the transfer and registration of certain minor players. Indeed, the Regulations oblige the National Federations to enforce these provisions on national football clubs.

For a normal international transfer procedure, the Regulations impose to clubs and Federations the use of the web-based Transfer Matching System (hereinafter “the TMS”) since 2009.  The TMS ensures that all international transfers are conducted in line with the FIFA rules, thereby controlling the integrity of both clubs and Federations involved. In other words, the club willing to register a new player informs its National Federation of the transfer, who in turn informs TMS, in order for the new player to be registered in his new Federation. As regards the case at hands, the exact details of the used procedure are unknown. However, one could suspect that FC Barcelona deviated from the “usual” procedure and decided to register the minors with the Catalan Federation instead. This means that, at a certain point, the Catalan Federation had to inform the National one. According to the RFEF Secretary General, the Spanish National Federation actually refused to register the concerned minors, but the Catalan Federation proceeded anyway. This alternative registering procedure is by no means contrary to TMS, but does increase the risk for “bureaucratic mistakes”. This case highlights the difficulty in identifying a responsible party. Despite the fact that FC Barcelona, RFEF and the Catalan Federation have a shared responsibility in the administrative mess-up leading to this procedure, FIFA only sanctioned the first two.

FIFA has been clear regarding the disciplinary sanctions: in accordance with article 23 of FIFA Disciplinary Code, FC Barcelona is imposed a ban to register new players for two complete and consecutive transfer periods (summer 2014 and January 2015). Moreover, the Club received a fine of CHF 450,000 and a deadline of 90 days in which to regularise the position of all minors concerned. The RFEF, for its part, received a fine of CHF 500,000 plus a deadline of one year in order to regularise their regulatory framework on this issue. With a turnover of more than 400 million Euro per year, it is unlikely that the Club is seriously worried about the fine. However, the transfer ban places the FC Barcelona in a very unpleasant situation. The first team is in need of certain important replacements, such as a new goalkeeper and a central defender, after both Víctor Valdés and Carles Puyol announced their departure this upcoming summer. Furthermore, it remains unclear what will happen with the promised signings of the German goalkeeper Marc-André Ter Stegen and the Croatian talent Alen Halilović.

FC Barcelona announced in its aforementioned official statement, that it will be appealing to the FIFA Appeal Committee and, if necessary, further appeal to CAS. Furthermore, the Club will demand for provisional measures in order to register new players during the next transfer window at least. Meanwhile, the RFEF is yet to give a detailed statement on its future legal strategy.

The fact that FIFA sanctions one of the biggest and renowned football clubs in the world in an unprecedented way demonstrates that they take this issue seriously, no matter how big the club in question is. The rules on minors is made to protect the best interest of the child. FIFA argues that the interest in protecting the appropriate and healthy development of a minor as a whole must prevail over purely sporting interests. This position is also supported by the International Federation of Professional Footballers (FIFPro), who fears that without the proper controls the development of a minor is not adequately protected against exploitation.

Undoubtedly, FC Barcelona will refer to the letter its former President, Sandro Rosell, sent to FIFA in March 2013. In this letter, Rosell argued that to fully safeguard the protection of minors, clubs must ensure the players can benefit from any good opportunity on their reach. In this regard, Rosell asked FIFA to consider a further exception on article 19 in favour of the clubs that have developed excellent Youth Academies. This would mean that certain clubs should be allowed to register minors regardless of their origin as long as the clubs compromise to take care of the minor until his 18^th birthday.

This could be a valid argument but would require FIFA Regulations to be modified. With regard to provisional measures, the Club’s demand is very unlikely to be accepted by the FIFA Appeal Committee, since article 124 of the FIFA Disciplinary Code only permits a suspension of the economical sanction. At CAS, on the other hand, the Club should demonstrate the existence of an irreparable harm, the likelihood of success on the merits of the claim, and whether the interests of the FC Barcelona outweigh those of FIFA[2]. In this regard, FC Barcelona can refer to the Mexès case where CAS temporarily lifted the ban imposed on the Italian football club A.S. Roma[3]. Furthermore, it can also rely on a more recent precedent in this field: the Kakuta case.

Considering the potential impact of the imposed disciplinary sanctions, this legal dispute will be one of the most difficult and challenging games in FC Barcelona’s long history. But make no mistake, this is just the beginning of an exciting legal game…

[1] Article 19 stipulates a few exceptions that provide International transfers of minors to be allowed. In each case, FIFA’s Player’s Status Committee has exclusive competence to review the circumstances and permit the exception.

[2] R37 Provisional and Conservatory Measures – CAS Procedural Rules

[3] Arbitrage TAS 2005/A/916 AS Roma c. Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA), §39-40