Why Pro Sports Had to Go Global

Global sports expansion is no longer a cultural victory lap. It is a hard-nosed capital strategy built for a world where domestic markets are saturated, the cable bundle is decaying, and every new media cycle has to look larger than the last one to keep valuations and leverage ratios from getting ugly.

The NBA and NFL are the cleanest examples of engineered globalization. The NBA’s new media era is not simply paying for games; it is paying for global distribution architecture and the right to sell basketball as an always-on subscription product with localized content and timezone-friendly scheduling. The NFL’s approach is different but equally deliberate. It weaponizes scarcity. A small number of high-profile international games create outsized demand, premium pricing, and sponsor lift, while the league learns which markets can actually sustain recurring events and commercial programs.

MLB is the tell. Baseball’s topline can look healthy while the underlying structure is stressed by local media fragmentation and cord-cutting. That is why MLB’s push into international series and broader platform experimentation matters. The league is buying optionality, more pipes, more negotiating power, and a wider surface area for monetization. The point is not novelty games in new cities. The point is future leverage.

But perhaps the organization doing it best is the National Hockey League, which is making some of the sharpest infrastructure moves in the sector, just without the headline-grabbing swagger.

First, the NHL opened a European office in Zürich with a remit that goes beyond events. This is about international operations, development, and commercial growth across the region. Translation: Europe is being treated as an operating business unit, not a once-a-year roadshow.

Second, the NHL is rewiring international streaming. Starting with the 2025 to 2026 season, NHL.TV migrates to DAZN across roughly 200 markets. That is a strategic distribution outsource, choosing a global operator that already knows how to scale subscriptions, payments, discovery, and user experience. The NHL is betting that DAZN can widen the funnel faster than the league could on its own, while the league focuses on monetizing downstream through sponsorship, commerce, and experiences.

Third, the league keeps feeding the live demand engine through recurring Global Series events in Europe, paired with fan festivals and experiential programming. This is not just about selling tickets. It is about converting attention into identity, and identity into repeat purchasing behavior.

Do not ignore the home base economics either. The NHL’s long-term Canadian rights agreement with Rogers reinforces that hockey’s media economics can still inflate where the sport is culturally non-negotiable, and that steady cash flow helps underwrite international experimentation.

Step back, and you can see the common blueprint across leagues. Globalization is turning leagues into hybrid media, real estate, and data businesses. When a league establishes a foreign office, builds a venue partnership, or locks in a distribution platform, it is buying three things.

One, local commercial rights velocity, meaning sponsors, hospitality, and business development that can be repeated and scaled.

Two, consumer data capture, meaning identity, payments, churn signals, and behavioral insight that improve pricing power and product design.

Three, future negotiation leverage with platforms that need tentpole sports to slow subscriber churn and justify bundling strategies.

This is why cricket and European soccer are pushing into North America with infrastructure and media investments. They are not betting on a sudden mass cultural conversion. They are betting on diaspora demand, subscription behavior, and premium advertisers who want affluent, identifiable audiences. They are also betting that North America remains the highest-value advertising market on earth, and that even a niche share can be worth billions when packaged correctly.

Here is the uncomfortable truth. International games alone do not create durable value. Durable value comes from repeatable local programming, youth and amateur pathways, creator ecosystems, localized language and content, and a frictionless purchase path for tickets, merch, and subscriptions. If any one of those is weak, global expansion becomes a high-cost traveling circus that spikes attention without compounding revenue.

My forward-looking view is blunt. The winners will not be the leagues that “go international.” The winners will be the leagues that operationalize international markets like real businesses, with local sales, local content, local partnerships, and real estate footprints, then tie those capabilities back to the next rights negotiation. Global fandom is nice. Global cash flow is the point.

Key caveats: because this is where most analysis gets lazy, allow me to bring 24 years in the sports world, and the rest in tech, to come home to roost.

  1. Leagues love to disclose audience growth and social metrics, but they rarely disclose the unit economics, ARPU, retention, and churn by market that would prove durable monetization. That’s what venture investors in SaaS and tech have done for years.
  2. Venue and calendar constraints are real. Stadium availability, competing local sports calendars, and travel fatigue cap scaling, and one venue delay can break a multi-year plan. I saw this ages ago in amateur hockey, where a lack of rinks impacted growth, where the less popular team in town meant scheduling games on their off days/nights when the favorite was at home, or where the “tenant” in the building never could do the same things as the team that controlled the arena. This so aligns with what Niccolò Machiavelli wrote in his book The Prince (1513), in which he argued that the acquisition and control of territory are central to establishing and maintaining political power. Machiavelli argues that securing, managing, and often expanding territory is essential for a ruler to build stability and power, particularly when dealing with “mixed principalities” (new territories added to an existing state).
  3. Platform dependency cuts both ways. Outsourcing distribution can expand reach, but it can also weaken direct customer ownership if data sharing is restrictive. The GDPR and other European laws are much stricter than even California’s.
  4. International revenue is exposed to currency swings and macro cycles, especially in ticketing and hospitality.
  5. Finally, regulatory and geopolitical exposure is rising, including antitrust scrutiny, national security concerns around capital sources, and shifting ownership rules that can quickly change the investability of the asset class.

In global sports, you have your own Hollywood Triangle. Call it the Stadium Triangle. You can have two of the three: Reach, Control, or Cost, but not all three.

Reach means you go truly global. More markets, more games in more time zones, more streaming distribution, more sponsors, more merch, more everything. That is how valuations climb.

Control means you protect the product and the brand. Competitive integrity, scheduling sanity, player welfare, broadcast quality, venue standards, and regulatory compliance. Control is what keeps the flywheel from becoming a junk bond.

Cost means you do it without lighting money on fire. Minimal CapEx, limited travel complexity, low operational overhead, and contained downside when a market underperforms.

Why pick any two?

If you want Reach plus Control, it will not be cheap. You are building offices, buying logistics, underwriting venue upgrades, and paying for compliance in every jurisdiction. That is the NFL and NBA playbook when done properly.

If you want Reach plus Cost, you will sacrifice Control. You will lean on third parties, temporary venues, patchwork partners, and uneven fan experiences. That is where reputational and political risks creep in quickly.

If you want Control plus Cost, you will sacrifice Reach. You stay domestic, or you pick only a couple of “safe” markets, which means slower growth and a lower ceiling on rights and sponsorship expansion.

So when the money betting big on sports starts demanding global growth, the real question is not “can we expand?” It is “which corner of the triangle are we willing to give up, and what is the price of that surrender?”