Farhad Moshiri

[turner]

The Usmanov Question - why he won't be buying into Everton

The Premier League is real estate with a limited number of properties (clubs). Few investors can access this market, and most of the desirable properties have already been acquired. Clearly Usmanov is a big fan of the Premier League, has committed resources to it and wishes to increase that exposure. Similarly Moshiri is of the same opinion.

How do they both achieve their aims of increasing their investment exposure to the Premier League? Arguably a week ago the answer was to hope for Kroenke to sell his majority holding in Arsenal to Red and White Holdings, however given this is unlikely to happen in the near time, and the desire is to increase exposure now how do they achieve this?

Red and White holdings provides Usmanov and Moshiri with approximately £400 million worth of exposure to the Premier League between them. By Moshiri selling to Usmanov, Usmanov increases his exposure to £400 million. Moshiri in the meantime switches his exposure from Arsenal to a more risky but with higher growth potential investment in Everton.

Result - their combined exposure (I'm not saying they're working together, far from it, just from an asset allocation position) has increased by 50%, Usmanov now has a larger interest in his beloved Arsenal and Moshiri has a higher growth potential investment in Everton and he's running the show.

So, for Usmanov to buy Everton he would now have to sell his enlarged position in Arsenal, and reduce his exposure to the Premier League and Moshiri would lose control of his own football club, something we believe has been an ambition for a long time.

You obviously know waaaay more about this than most (to be honest, like a lot on here, I didn't really know who Usmanov was a few days ago) but I think you're thinking like an accountant here (but hey, Moshiri is an accountant, right?) and assuming the cool head of business will apply fully in this situation. People don't buy premier league clubs for the same reasons that they buy property, they buy them for the same reason they buy Ferraris: status, to impress their mates and to excite the nether parts of impressionable women. It seems to me that Usmanov currently part-owns a Ferrari that he's never going to be able to drive.

I don't think you can compare football with property; there aren't Turkish property ultras stabbing visiting architects in the arse with jarg flick knives. When Farshad Moshiri's parents were smuggling him out of Persia in a rolled-up rug he didn't take one last look at his room and quickly grab his signed photo of Kirsty and Phil as the roof fell in. He grabbed his Panini "Argentina 78" sticker album (which was almost full: Moshiri's main regret to this day is that he has never been able to source the sticker for Hungarian defender Tibor Nyilasi.)

Long analogy short: Usmanov is stuck in an extremely desirable North London Property but one where he's not allowed to make any decisions about the decor and he has to sleep beneath the stairs like Harry Potter. His mate has bought a historic "fixer upper" in the North and is about to totally redo the place to his liking: he's tastefully reimagined the Georgian architecture and the planning permission for the sex dungeon has already been waived through. Usmanov will ring Moshiri up from his classy London dinner party and hear Farhad recreating the last days of Rome, face down in a pyramid of lemo, Scarface-style, as he watches while the Swedish female beach volley ball have started to massage each other after a hard day's training: it's really hot in the steam room, and even though beads of sweat form on their midriffs the sand has left their skin a bit dry so they have to get the baby oil out and ........er what were we talking about again?

 

[kithnou]

You obviously know waaaay more about this than most (to be honest, like a lot on here, I didn't really know who Usmanov was a few days ago) but I think you're thinking like an accountant here (but hey, Moshiri is an accountant, right?) and assuming the cool head of business will apply fully in this situation. People don't buy premier league clubs for the same reasons that they buy property, they buy them for the same reason they buy Ferraris: status, to impress their mates and to excite the nether parts of impressionable women. It seems to me that Usmanov currently part-owns a Ferrari that he's never going to be able to drive.

I don't think you can compare football with property; there aren't Turkish property ultras stabbing visiting architects in the arse with jarg flick knives. When Farshad Moshiri's parents were smuggling him out of Persia in a rolled-up rug he didn't take one last look at his room and quickly grab his signed photo of Kirsty and Phil as the roof fell in. He grabbed his Panini "Argentina 78" sticker album (which was almost full: Moshiri's main regret to this day is that he has never been able to source the sticker for Hungarian defender Tibor Nyilasi.)

Long analogy short: Usmanov is stuck in an extremely desirable North London Property but one where he's not allowed to make any decisions about the decor and he has to sleep beneath the stairs like Harry Potter. His mate has bought a historic "fixer upper" in the North and is about to totally redo the place to his liking: he's tastefully reimagined the Georgian architecture and the planning permission for the sex dungeon has already been waived through. Usmanov will ring Moshiri up from his classy London dinner party and hear Farhad recreating the last days of Rome, face down in a pyramid of lemo, Scarface-style, as he watches while the Swedish female beach volley ball have started to massage each other after a hard day's training: it's really hot in the steam room, and even though beads of sweat form on their midriffs the sand has left their skin a bit dry so they have to get the baby oil out and ........er what were we talking about again?

That's one amazing piece of literature right there. Really entertaining to read

 

[oldblue]

there aren't Turkish property ultras stabbing visiting architects in the arse with jarg flick knives.

I saw this once in Kars but I was told it was definitely a one off.
Agree with everything else though, they'll have worked out as much as they can but anyone buying a club is taking a huge leap of faith that's got to be balanced by the enjoyment of being involved. Or you would hope so.

 

[helpimonfire]

Being half Swedish I would like to hear more about my beach volley ball girls.

 

[BirkenheadBlue]

You obviously know waaaay more about this than most (to be honest, like a lot on here, I didn't really know who Usmanov was a few days ago) but I think you're thinking like an accountant here (but hey, Moshiri is an accountant, right?) and assuming the cool head of business will apply fully in this situation. People don't buy premier league clubs for the same reasons that they buy property, they buy them for the same reason they buy Ferraris: status, to impress their mates and to excite the nether parts of impressionable women. It seems to me that Usmanov currently part-owns a Ferrari that he's never going to be able to drive.

I don't think you can compare football with property; there aren't Turkish property ultras stabbing visiting architects in the arse with jarg flick knives. When Farshad Moshiri's parents were smuggling him out of Persia in a rolled-up rug he didn't take one last look at his room and quickly grab his signed photo of Kirsty and Phil as the roof fell in. He grabbed his Panini "Argentina 78" sticker album (which was almost full: Moshiri's main regret to this day is that he has never been able to source the sticker for Hungarian defender Tibor Nyilasi.)

Long analogy short: Usmanov is stuck in an extremely desirable North London Property but one where he's not allowed to make any decisions about the decor and he has to sleep beneath the stairs like Harry Potter. His mate has bought a historic "fixer upper" in the North and is about to totally redo the place to his liking: he's tastefully reimagined the Georgian architecture and the planning permission for the sex dungeon has already been waived through. Usmanov will ring Moshiri up from his classy London dinner party and hear Farhad recreating the last days of Rome, face down in a pyramid of lemo, Scarface-style, as he watches while the Swedish female beach volley ball have started to massage each other after a hard day's training: it's really hot in the steam room, and even though beads of sweat form on their midriffs the sand has left their skin a bit dry so they have to get the baby oil out and ........er what were we talking about again?

Outstanding

 

[CahillsCornerFlag]

You obviously know waaaay more about this than most (to be honest, like a lot on here, I didn't really know who Usmanov was a few days ago) but I think you're thinking like an accountant here (but hey, Moshiri is an accountant, right?) and assuming the cool head of business will apply fully in this situation. People don't buy premier league clubs for the same reasons that they buy property, they buy them for the same reason they buy Ferraris: status, to impress their mates and to excite the nether parts of impressionable women. It seems to me that Usmanov currently part-owns a Ferrari that he's never going to be able to drive.

I don't think you can compare football with property; there aren't Turkish property ultras stabbing visiting architects in the arse with jarg flick knives. When Farshad Moshiri's parents were smuggling him out of Persia in a rolled-up rug he didn't take one last look at his room and quickly grab his signed photo of Kirsty and Phil as the roof fell in. He grabbed his Panini "Argentina 78" sticker album (which was almost full: Moshiri's main regret to this day is that he has never been able to source the sticker for Hungarian defender Tibor Nyilasi.)

Long analogy short: Usmanov is stuck in an extremely desirable North London Property but one where he's not allowed to make any decisions about the decor and he has to sleep beneath the stairs like Harry Potter. His mate has bought a historic "fixer upper" in the North and is about to totally redo the place to his liking: he's tastefully reimagined the Georgian architecture and the planning permission for the sex dungeon has already been waived through. Usmanov will ring Moshiri up from his classy London dinner party and hear Farhad recreating the last days of Rome, face down in a pyramid of lemo, Scarface-style, as he watches while the Swedish female beach volley ball have started to massage each other after a hard day's training: it's really hot in the steam room, and even though beads of sweat form on their midriffs the sand has left their skin a bit dry so they have to get the baby oil out and ........er what were we talking about again?

I have a similar tale of woe regarding a panini sticker book, why dost thou elude me Chris Powell?

 

[ALANSTUBBS]

he has never been able to source the sticker for Hungarian defender Tibor Nyilasi

Mr Morshi, I have a present for you. Swap you for John Barnes and foil Mexico Flag?

 

[Brian Sephton]

Came on to write something resembling intelligent but have been completely thrown by the vision of the Volleyball Swedes
I'll be back later -well in the shake of a lamb's tail so to speak

 

[turner]

View attachment 18702



Mr Morshi, I have a present for you. Swap you for John Barnes and foil Mexico Flag?

Solid work there. I'm sure his associates will pay you full price rather than making you a delicious Pollonium Sandwich

 

[anton66]

Being half Swedish I would like to hear more about my beach volley ball girls.

What half? you blonde bombshell.

 

[The Esk]

You obviously know waaaay more about this than most (to be honest, like a lot on here, I didn't really know who Usmanov was a few days ago) but I think you're thinking like an accountant here (but hey, Moshiri is an accountant, right?) and assuming the cool head of business will apply fully in this situation. People don't buy premier league clubs for the same reasons that they buy property, they buy them for the same reason they buy Ferraris: status, to impress their mates and to excite the nether parts of impressionable women. It seems to me that Usmanov currently part-owns a Ferrari that he's never going to be able to drive.

I don't think you can compare football with property; there aren't Turkish property ultras stabbing visiting architects in the arse with jarg flick knives. When Farshad Moshiri's parents were smuggling him out of Persia in a rolled-up rug he didn't take one last look at his room and quickly grab his signed photo of Kirsty and Phil as the roof fell in. He grabbed his Panini "Argentina 78" sticker album (which was almost full: Moshiri's main regret to this day is that he has never been able to source the sticker for Hungarian defender Tibor Nyilasi.)

Long analogy short: Usmanov is stuck in an extremely desirable North London Property but one where he's not allowed to make any decisions about the decor and he has to sleep beneath the stairs like Harry Potter. His mate has bought a historic "fixer upper" in the North and is about to totally redo the place to his liking: he's tastefully reimagined the Georgian architecture and the planning permission for the sex dungeon has already been waived through. Usmanov will ring Moshiri up from his classy London dinner party and hear Farhad recreating the last days of Rome, face down in a pyramid of lemo, Scarface-style, as he watches while the Swedish female beach volley ball have started to massage each other after a hard day's training: it's really hot in the steam room, and even though beads of sweat form on their midriffs the sand has left their skin a bit dry so they have to get the baby oil out and ........er what were we talking about again?

Excellent reply mate.

 

[Bilko]

Attention seekers & wind up merchants. We've all clicked on the votes to see who they are. Job done.

There , I learnt something , didn't know you could do that.

 

[toffees1878]

You obviously know waaaay more about this than most

Deleted most but just wanted to quote you. Bravo, Sir; wonderful, wonderful post. Had me in stitches at the Panini and rolled up Persian rug parts.

 

[blue61]

You obviously know waaaay more about this than most (to be honest, like a lot on here, I didn't really know who Usmanov was a few days ago) but I think you're thinking like an accountant here (but hey, Moshiri is an accountant, right?) and assuming the cool head of business will apply fully in this situation. People don't buy premier league clubs for the same reasons that they buy property, they buy them for the same reason they buy Ferraris: status, to impress their mates and to excite the nether parts of impressionable women. It seems to me that Usmanov currently part-owns a Ferrari that he's never going to be able to drive.

I don't think you can compare football with property; there aren't Turkish property ultras stabbing visiting architects in the arse with jarg flick knives. When Farshad Moshiri's parents were smuggling him out of Persia in a rolled-up rug he didn't take one last look at his room and quickly grab his signed photo of Kirsty and Phil as the roof fell in. He grabbed his Panini "Argentina 78" sticker album (which was almost full: Moshiri's main regret to this day is that he has never been able to source the sticker for Hungarian defender Tibor Nyilasi.)

Long analogy short: Usmanov is stuck in an extremely desirable North London Property but one where he's not allowed to make any decisions about the decor and he has to sleep beneath the stairs like Harry Potter. His mate has bought a historic "fixer upper" in the North and is about to totally redo the place to his liking: he's tastefully reimagined the Georgian architecture and the planning permission for the sex dungeon has already been waived through. Usmanov will ring Moshiri up from his classy London dinner party and hear Farhad recreating the last days of Rome, face down in a pyramid of lemo, Scarface-style, as he watches while the Swedish female beach volley ball have started to massage each other after a hard day's training: it's really hot in the steam room, and even though beads of sweat form on their midriffs the sand has left their skin a bit dry so they have to get the baby oil out and ........er what were we talking about again?

Chicos match preview successor right there, he's gone off the boil lately.

 

[BoysInBlue]

You obviously know waaaay more about this than most (to be honest, like a lot on here, I didn't really know who Usmanov was a few days ago) but I think you're thinking like an accountant here (but hey, Moshiri is an accountant, right?) and assuming the cool head of business will apply fully in this situation. People don't buy premier league clubs for the same reasons that they buy property, they buy them for the same reason they buy Ferraris: status, to impress their mates and to excite the nether parts of impressionable women. It seems to me that Usmanov currently part-owns a Ferrari that he's never going to be able to drive.

I don't think you can compare football with property; there aren't Turkish property ultras stabbing visiting architects in the arse with jarg flick knives. When Farshad Moshiri's parents were smuggling him out of Persia in a rolled-up rug he didn't take one last look at his room and quickly grab his signed photo of Kirsty and Phil as the roof fell in. He grabbed his Panini "Argentina 78" sticker album (which was almost full: Moshiri's main regret to this day is that he has never been able to source the sticker for Hungarian defender Tibor Nyilasi.)

Long analogy short: Usmanov is stuck in an extremely desirable North London Property but one where he's not allowed to make any decisions about the decor and he has to sleep beneath the stairs like Harry Potter. His mate has bought a historic "fixer upper" in the North and is about to totally redo the place to his liking: he's tastefully reimagined the Georgian architecture and the planning permission for the sex dungeon has already been waived through. Usmanov will ring Moshiri up from his classy London dinner party and hear Farhad recreating the last days of Rome, face down in a pyramid of lemo, Scarface-style, as he watches while the Swedish female beach volley ball have started to massage each other after a hard day's training: it's really hot in the steam room, and even though beads of sweat form on their midriffs the sand has left their skin a bit dry so they have to get the baby oil out and ........er what were we talking about again?

Amazing work sir!