When the Athlete Becomes the Asset

There was a time when the economics of sport were relatively easy to understand.

A footballer played football. A tennis player played tennis. A Formula 1 driver drove a car.

The club, team or tournament paid for performance. Sponsors paid separately for visibility. The athlete appeared in an advertisement, wore a shoe or a watch, collected an endorsement cheque and returned to the field.

That model is disappearing at the very top of global sport.

The announcement on 18 September that Kylian Mbappé is leaving Nike for Swiss sportswear company On is therefore much more interesting than another sponsorship transfer.

Mbappé had been associated with Nike since 2006. On is entering football and intends to launch its first football boots in 2027. It has also recruited Thierry Henry as director of football. The company says it wants a long-term relationship with Mbappé resembling the model it built with Roger Federer.

And Wall Street immediately understood that this was not simply about boots.

On’s US-listed shares rose roughly 5–6% in pre-market trading after the announcement.

Think about that for a moment.

One athlete changes sportswear companies and investors immediately reprice the company.

That is where this story begins.

Mbappé is not the product. He is the market-entry strategy.

Kylian Mbappé is joining a company that until now has been overwhelmingly associated with running and, increasingly, tennis.

On⁠ generated CHF3.014 billion of net sales in 2025, up 30% year on year, with direct-to-consumer revenue rising almost 34%. Shoes still represented CHF2.804 billion of those sales.

Football therefore represents an enormous adjacent market.

But entering football organically would require years of advertising, athlete recruitment, retail positioning and product credibility.

Instead, On has purchased something considerably scarcer: instant legitimacy.

Mbappé brings millions of consumers who already understand what he represents.

Performance.

Speed.

France.

Real Madrid CF.

The World Cup.

A younger global audience.

And potentially another decade of elite sporting relevance.

In corporate-finance language, the athlete is functioning almost like an acquisition.

Except On has not bought a company.

It has acquired access to attention.

That distinction matters because attention has become one of the world’s most valuable scarce assets.

The Federer experiment

To understand what On may be attempting with Mbappé, look at Roger Federer.

Federer did something fundamentally different from the traditional endorsement model.

He became economically aligned with the company.

After ending his long relationship with Nike, Federer joined On in 2019 not simply as an ambassador but as an investor and product partner.

Forbes currently estimates his stake at roughly 2.5% of the company.

That is an entirely different economic proposition from receiving an annual sponsorship fee.

A conventional endorsement says:

Pay me because my image can help you sell your product.

Equity says:

If my image, product input and credibility help build your company, I want to participate in the value we create together.

That is potentially far more powerful.

Federer provides the historical proof.

In 2020, Forbes estimated that he earned $106.3 million despite receiving only $6.3 million from tennis prize money and appearances associated with competition; approximately $100 million came from endorsements and appearance fees.

His commercial machine had become more valuable than his tennis income.

Then came the next stage: ownership.

Federer was no longer merely monetising fame.

He was converting fame into capital.

That is the transition every superstar athlete should study.

Salary, endorsement and image rights are not the same thing

Much confusion surrounding athlete wealth comes from mixing fundamentally different revenue streams.

A football salary compensates sporting labour.

Prize money compensates sporting results.

An endorsement pays for association with a brand.

Image rights monetise the athlete’s name, likeness and commercial identity.

Licensing monetises intellectual property.

A personal company can monetise products, hospitality, media or other ventures.

Equity provides participation in the appreciation of a business.

They should never be treated as interchangeable.

The distinction becomes obvious when comparing the world’s highest earners.

The latest 2026 global estimates put Cristiano Ronaldo at approximately $300 million in annual earnings: around $235 million from playing and roughly $65 million off the field.

Lionel Messi is estimated at approximately $140 million, split roughly equally between on-field and off-field income.

LeBron James is around $137.8 million, but approximately $85 million comes off the court.

And then there is perhaps the most extraordinary contemporary example: Shohei Ohtani.

His estimated 2026 earnings are around $127.6 million, of which approximately $125 million comes off the field.

Ohtani is essentially the inversion of the traditional athlete economy.

The sport creates the fame.

The fame creates the commercial platform.

And the commercial platform becomes vastly more valuable than the current cash salary.

A revealing ranking: who earns most away from competition?

If we isolate estimated off-field earnings rather than total income, the economics become much more interesting.

Based on the latest available 2026 estimates, the leading figures include approximately:

Shohei Ohtani — $125 million off-field.

LeBron James — $85 million.

Lionel Messi — $70 million.

Cristiano Ronaldo — $65 million.

Stephen Curry — approximately $65 million.

Kevin Durant — approximately $49 million.

Lewis Hamilton — approximately $30 million.

This is not a ranking of athletic performance.

It is a ranking of monetisable global identity.

And those are very different things.

The commercial champion is not necessarily the sporting champion.

Ronaldo: when the athlete becomes a media company

Ronaldo may be the clearest football example.

His economics extend far beyond his club contract.

Nike, sponsorships, social media, licensing and the CR7 ecosystem have progressively transformed him from footballer into global consumer brand.

The principle was visible years ago.

A 2016 analysis estimated that Ronaldo generated $36 million of social-media value for Nike from just 59 posts over twelve months, while his sponsors collectively received an estimated $176 million in social-media value.

The precise figures are historical, but the economic mechanism is more relevant today than ever.

Ronaldo does not need television to distribute a sponsor’s message.

He owns distribution.

That is enormously important.

Historically, Nike bought advertising from television networks and sponsorship rights from clubs and federations.

With Ronaldo, Nike can effectively buy access to an audience directly from the athlete.

The athlete has become the media channel.

Messi: from endorsement to ecosystem economics

Messi represents another evolution.

His relationship with Adidas⁠ has long extended beyond conventional seasonal advertising.

But his move to Inter Miami CF demonstrated something even more interesting.

Reports surrounding the agreement described compensation structures connected not simply to salary but potentially to the wider commercial ecosystem, including arrangements linked to Adidas and Apple’s MLS distribution business.

This is conceptually important.

The old contract asked:

How much is Messi worth to the club?

The modern contract increasingly asks:

How much additional economic activity does Messi create across the entire ecosystem?

Tickets.

Subscriptions.

Shirts.

Sponsors.

Social engagement.

International television audiences.

Tourism.

Hospitality.

Merchandise.

That incremental value can be considerably larger than the athlete’s salary.

Mbappé and the increasingly valuable battle over image rights

Mbappé illustrates another dimension: ownership of identity.

When he joined Real Madrid in 2024, one widely reported version of the agreement said he would retain approximately 80% of his image rights, alongside a €125 million signing bonus distributed over five years.

Other reporting has produced different percentages, which is precisely why private image-rights agreements should not be treated as completely transparent public data.

But the strategic principle is indisputable.

For a global superstar, control over image rights can become almost as important as salary negotiations.

Why?

Because salary stops when the career stops.

Commercial identity does not necessarily stop.

Federer retired in 2022.

His brand did not retire.

Michael Jordan stopped playing professional basketball decades ago.

Jordan is still an economic asset.

That should tell us almost everything we need to know.

Jordan remains the blueprint

Michael Jordan changed the relationship between athletes and brands before almost everyone else understood what was happening.

The revolutionary idea behind Jordan economics was not simply paying an athlete to wear Nike shoes.

It was building a scalable consumer franchise around the athlete’s identity.

That created something substantially more valuable than an endorsement contract.

It created intellectual property.

Jordan therefore represents the ultimate destination of athlete economics:

Athlete → ambassador → signature product → brand → royalty stream → permanent commercial asset.

Federer’s On investment represents a variation.

Ronaldo’s CR7 businesses represent another.

Messi’s commercial ecosystem another.

The direction is nevertheless the same.

The smartest athletes are gradually moving upstream in the value chain.

Football versus basketball, tennis, baseball and Formula 1

Football has the world’s largest global audience, but it does not necessarily offer athletes the most sophisticated commercial structures.

Basketball has historically been exceptionally powerful at transforming individual athletes into product franchises.

Jordan demonstrated it.

LeBron followed with a lifetime Nike relationship and an increasingly diversified business portfolio.

Stephen Curry developed Curry Brand with Under Armour.

Basketball has an intrinsic commercial advantage: shoes are culturally wearable away from the court.

A basketball shoe can become fashion.

A football boot generally cannot.

That changes the addressable market dramatically.

Tennis offers another advantage.

Its leading stars are unusually compatible with premium and luxury brands.

Federer’s historical portfolio included Rolex, Mercedes-Benz and other premium names; Forbes once estimated his annual endorsement earnings above $50 million even before his later Uniqlo and On arrangements.

Baseball demonstrates the geographic-power model.

Ohtani simultaneously reaches the enormous US sports market and Japan, making him exceptionally valuable to brands seeking a bridge between two major consumer economies.

Formula 1 offers yet another model.

The driver exists inside a luxury, technology and global-travel ecosystem.

That brings us back to Kimi Antonelli.

The Kimi Antonelli connection

In my previous analysis of Andrea Kimi Antonelli, I argued that his value cannot be measured simply through race results.

The same framework applies here.

Antonelli combines several scarce commercial attributes:

youth,

Italian identity,

Formula 1’s global reach,

the Mercedes ecosystem,

and the possibility of a very long sporting career.

He is already associated through the Mercedes commercial environment with brands including Adidas and IWC, although it is important to distinguish personal endorsements from team sponsorships and supplier relationships.

That distinction is fundamental.

Seeing a logo beside an athlete does not mean the athlete personally receives the sponsorship revenue.

But the broader principle remains.

A young driver is not valuable to a brand only because of today’s results.

Brands are buying an option on tomorrow’s cultural relevance.

And that is exactly what On is doing with Mbappé on a much larger scale.

The hidden financial instrument: optionality

This is where I think conventional sports commentary misses the most interesting point.

A long-term athlete partnership contains something resembling an option.

A company pays today for the possibility that the athlete’s future relevance becomes enormously greater.

If the athlete becomes culturally dominant, launches successful signature products or reaches new markets, the sponsor participates in that upside.

The risk is obvious.

Injury.

Loss of form.

Scandal.

Changing consumer preferences.

Retirement.

A new generation.

But the upside can be asymmetric.

Nike’s relationship with Jordan demonstrates the extreme case.

Federer’s relationship with On may become another important example.

And Mbappé gives On something particularly valuable: entry into football without having to spend a decade convincing football consumers that On belongs there.

Why On’s share price reaction matters

Markets occasionally provide very clean signals.

On announced Mbappé.

The shares jumped roughly 5–6% before the market opened.

That does not mean investors have precisely calculated how many football boots Mbappé will sell.

Markets do not work that neatly.

But the reaction suggests investors immediately recognised strategic optionality.

Football expands On’s addressable market.

Mbappé reduces the credibility barrier.

Thierry Henry adds institutional football legitimacy.

Federer provides evidence that On understands how to construct athlete partnerships.

And On enters this expansion from a position of significant growth: 2025 sales exceeded CHF3 billion and grew 30%.

This is therefore not a celebrity endorsement attached to a struggling company searching for attention.

It is a growth company using elite sporting identity as a market-expansion instrument.

That is much more interesting.

But celebrity does not guarantee return on investment

There is also a dangerous assumption in modern marketing:

more followers equal more economic value.

Not necessarily.

An athlete can have enormous reach and weak conversion.

Another can have a smaller audience but extraordinary purchasing power.

Federer’s audience historically appealed to Rolex, Mercedes-Benz, financial services and premium travel because tennis demographics supported those categories.

Ohtani offers unique access to Japan and America.

Ronaldo offers almost unparalleled global scale.

Mbappé offers football’s next-generation audience.

Antonelli potentially offers youth, Italy, luxury, technology and motorsport simultaneously.

The relevant metric therefore is not simply followers.

It is:

audience × purchasing power × geographic reach × authenticity × longevity × product compatibility.

That is the real athlete valuation equation.

The future: athletes will increasingly demand equity

The next phase seems logical.

Why accept $10 million to advertise a product if your participation might create $500 million of enterprise value?

This does not mean every athlete should demand shares.

Equity creates risk.

A guaranteed endorsement cheque has certainty.

Shares can collapse.

Federer experienced exactly that volatility this year: Forbes estimated that a sharp fall in On shares temporarily reduced his estimated wealth by more than $50 million.

But that is precisely the point.

Federer is exposed to business risk because he participates in business ownership.

He is no longer merely an advertising expense on someone else’s income statement.

He is part of the capital structure.

That is a profound change.

My ranking is not of athletes. It is of business models.

If we look beyond headline income, I would divide modern superstar economics into five increasingly sophisticated stages.

First: salary and prize money.

Second: conventional endorsements.

Third: image rights and licensing.

Fourth: proprietary brands and revenue sharing.

Fifth: equity ownership.

The progression matters because each stage moves the athlete further from selling labour and closer to owning capital.

And wealth, ultimately, is created far more efficiently by owning scalable assets than by selling time.

Even when your time happens to be worth €100 million a year.

The real competition is no longer Nike versus Adidas

That is why today’s Mbappé story should not be reduced to:

On stole a footballer from Nike.

The deeper competition is between different models of athlete capitalism.

Nike perfected the endorsement and signature-product era.

Jordan demonstrated the extraordinary economics of royalties and athlete-linked intellectual property.

Federer moved toward partnership and equity.

Messi demonstrated ecosystem revenue.

Ronaldo built his own parallel consumer identity.

Ohtani demonstrates how geography and cultural reach can make commercial income dwarf sporting cash income.

And the next generation — Mbappé, Antonelli and those who follow — will increasingly negotiate not simply about how much a company will pay them.

They will ask a much more sophisticated question:

What percentage of the value I create will I own?

That is the question brands should fear.

And athletes should finally learn to ask.

Because the greatest financial transformation in professional sport is not that athletes are earning more money.

It is that the smartest of them are beginning to understand the difference between being paid by capital and owning capital.

Mbappé’s move from Nike to On may ultimately prove important for exactly that reason.

The football boot is simply where the story starts.

Sources and further reading: Financial Times — On signs Kylian Mbappé in blow to Nike⁠; Reuters — Mbappé leaves Nike and joins On⁠; On 2025 financial results⁠; Forbes — Federer and his On equity stake⁠; Forbes — Federer’s $106m endorsement-era economics⁠; Statista — 2026 athlete earnings estimates⁠.

Roberto Balbino — CEO, Fintech SCB. Independent analyst of finance, economics, geopolitics and global markets.