‘Bad Joke’: FC Barcelona Slammed Over $22 Million Sponsorship with Little‑Known Samoan Crypto Firm ZKP
FC Barcelona is facing a wave of criticism after unveiling a three‑year global sponsorship agreement worth around $22 million with an obscure crypto company called Zero‑Knowledge Proof (ZKP), a blockchain startup registered in Samoa in the Pacific.
The deal has triggered an internal backlash from figures connected to the club’s recent past. Former board member Xavier Vilajoana publicly condemned the partnership, arguing it reflects a state of financial “desperation” at the cash‑strapped Spanish giant. He pointed to what he described as “red flags” in the startup’s background and called the decision deeply troubling for a club that markets itself as a global benchmark in governance and values.
Vilajoana drew particular attention to ZKP’s almost non‑existent public footprint at the time of the announcement. The company’s account on X reportedly counted only 33 followers when the partnership went live, a figure he highlighted as incompatible with the profile expected of a global sponsor of one of the world’s biggest football institutions. For him, the whole operation looked less like a carefully vetted commercial strategy and more like a “bad joke” that unfortunately turned out to be real.
Another controversial element is ZKP’s apparent attempt to associate itself with Andrew Tate, the former kickboxer and divisive online personality. Tate had posted praise for zero‑knowledge proof technology on his social media feed. ZKP subsequently reshared that message in its own channels, adding the company’s logo, effectively turning a generic endorsement of a cryptographic concept into soft promotion of the brand. For critics, this association with such a polarizing figure raises further questions about the company’s judgment and the optics for FC Barcelona.
The club’s choice of partner has also drawn scrutiny because of ZKP’s place of registration. The firm is incorporated in Samoa, a jurisdiction listed by the European Union as a tax haven. For a club repeatedly scrutinized over its financial management and transparency, entering a multi‑million deal with a company headquartered in such a location inevitably fuels suspicions and reputational concerns.
FC Barcelona’s fragile financial position looms over the entire story. The club is believed to be carrying around €469 million (roughly $542 million) in debt, a burden that has already forced dramatic measures in recent seasons, including the sale of future media revenues, aggressive salary cuts, and the departure of star players. Against that backdrop, critics interpret the ZKP partnership as another sign that Barcelona is willing to accept risky or poorly understood deals simply to secure short‑term cash.
ZKP itself only recently emerged from obscurity. Its social media channels and white paper appear to have gone live in early November, just weeks before the sponsorship was announced. The company claims to be regulated under Samoan law and is currently in the process of conducting an initial coin offering (ICO). Yet key details about its ownership, funding sources, and core team remain murky. Public reporting noted that no clear information could be found on some of the people listed as management, including the supposed head of blockchain, Jeff Wilck.
On its website and in public messaging, the startup positions itself as building around zero‑knowledge proof technology, a powerful cryptographic method that has existed since the early 1990s. ZK proofs allow one party to prove they know certain information or that a statement is true without revealing the underlying data. The concept is foundational for many modern privacy‑preserving systems. But turning that theory into secure, large‑scale, production‑ready products is a highly specialized and technically demanding task.
Experts in the field have therefore greeted ZKP’s outsized promises with skepticism. Harry Halpin, the CEO of privacy‑focused blockchain firm Nym Technologies, said he would approach any company “appearing from nowhere” and claiming to deliver advanced privacy solutions via zero‑knowledge proofs with extreme caution. According to him, only a very small global pool of developers — on the order of a few dozen — truly understands both the mathematics and the engineering required to implement robust, scalable ZK systems. Many of those specialists are already employed at well‑known projects such as Aztec, Anoma, Aleo, and the Electric Coin Company, which maintains the privacy coin Zcash.
Halpin also stressed that zero‑knowledge proofs by themselves do not guarantee anonymity. Even if transaction details are cryptographically shielded, metadata such as IP addresses can still leak sensitive information about users. That is why some privacy‑focused networks incorporate mixnets and other network‑level tools to obscure traffic patterns. In other words, simply invoking “zero‑knowledge” is not enough to ensure strong privacy, and marketing claims must be judged against complex technical realities.
Under growing pressure, FC Barcelona has tried to draw a clear line between its commercial relationship with ZKP and the company’s token or ICO. In an official statement, the club insisted it has “no connection whatsoever” with the issuance or promotion of any digital token linked to the sponsor. Club officials emphasized that token discussions were not part of negotiations and that Barcelona neither uses nor endorses ZKP’s underlying technology infrastructure. From the club’s perspective, this is a classic sponsorship deal: ZKP pays to have its brand associated with Barcelona, but the La Liga side takes no part in the startup’s crypto activities.
Nonetheless, that distancing may not be enough to calm concerns. When a globally recognized club lends its badge, colors, and image rights to a new crypto project, many fans and small investors are likely to assume some level of endorsement or validation, regardless of the fine print. If the token were later to collapse in value or become embroiled in scandal, the reputational fallout would inevitably splash back onto Barcelona, even if the legal contracts shield the club from direct responsibility. This reputational risk is at the center of much of the criticism leveled at the deal.
The company, for its part, appears to wear its outsider status as a badge of honor. In a recent post on X, ZKP boasted that it had rolled out a new blockchain, deployed “Proof Pods,” and financed operations entirely from its own funds, all without what it described as the usual trappings of startup promotion: no LinkedIn presence, no investor pitch deck, no traditional PR campaign. It suggested that what unsettles established media is precisely this decision to skip the typical public‑relations playbook. To supporters, this could be seen as a sign of independence; to skeptics, it looks more like a lack of transparency and basic accountability.
ZKP did not immediately respond to questions about its structure, leadership, or the criticism surrounding the deal with Barcelona. Combined with the limited public information, this silence only strengthens doubts among observers who expect a front‑of‑shirt or global sponsor of a major club to meet a higher bar in terms of disclosure, corporate governance, and due diligence.
The controversy also fits into a broader pattern: the surge of crypto sponsorships in European football over the past few years. Digital asset exchanges, trading platforms, blockchain projects, and fan token schemes have all rushed to attach their names to clubs, leagues, and stadiums. Recent analysis has found that more than one‑third of teams in Europe’s top five leagues have some type of partnership with a crypto or trading firm this season. In England’s Premier League, that share rises to around 70%.
Major trading platforms have signed broad portfolios of agreements. One investment platform has deals with eight different European clubs, while exchanges such as Bitpanda and Kraken have secured multiple partnerships across the continent. The logic is simple: football delivers global visibility and emotional engagement; crypto firms hope that association translates into user growth and legitimacy in markets where regulation remains in flux.
But the track record of these partnerships has been mixed. Some deals have collapsed amid accusations of non‑payment or broken promises. In 2022, for example, top‑flight clubs in Portugal and Italy reportedly severed commercial ties with a Turkish crypto group after alleged failures to meet financial obligations. Other high‑profile crypto sports agreements — including naming rights for arenas and front‑of‑shirt deals — have also come under strain as token prices crashed, firms went bankrupt, or regulators tightened oversight.
These failures have made supporters, regulators, and club officials more wary. Many fans now associate crypto sponsorships with speculative bubbles, aggressive marketing, and poorly understood financial products. When a new or little‑known blockchain project appears on a club’s jersey, some supporters fear they are watching a repeat of earlier booms that left small investors with heavy losses. That underlying skepticism is part of what amplifies the backlash to Barcelona’s decision.
For FC Barcelona specifically, the stakes are heightened by its unique ownership structure and self‑image. Unlike many European rivals, the club is still member‑owned rather than controlled by a private investor or state fund. It has long leaned on the slogan “More than a club,” presenting itself as a socially conscious institution that stands for certain values beyond the pitch. Critics argue that partnering with an opaque, newly launched crypto venture based in a tax haven undermines that message and risks eroding the trust of socios and global fans.
Supporters of the deal within the club might counter that in the modern football economy, turning down lucrative sponsorships is a luxury Barcelona can no longer afford. With transfer spending tightly constrained by debt and league regulations, every additional revenue stream is framed as crucial for maintaining a competitive squad. From this vantage point, ZKP’s money is just another commercial opportunity, no more or less morally fraught than betting sponsors, alcohol brands, or other controversial industries that have long been embedded in football.
Yet even on purely financial terms, critics question whether the short‑term injection of roughly $22 million justifies the potential long‑term costs. If the partnership ends badly — for instance, if ZKP’s token fails, or regulators scrutinize its activities — Barcelona could face reputational damage, awkward legal disputes, and renewed scrutiny of its governance. In a crowded sponsorship market, the club may find it harder to attract blue‑chip brands if it becomes associated with risky or controversial ventures.
The episode also highlights a broader governance issue: how far clubs go in vetting new commercial partners, especially in frontier sectors like crypto. Robust due diligence processes would typically involve background checks on executives, independent assessments of legal and regulatory risk, clear understanding of the business model, and contingency planning in case the partner’s circumstances change. When a firm launches social channels and a white paper mere weeks before signing a global sponsorship, critics naturally wonder whether those standards have been met.
Looking ahead, the Barcelona–ZKP controversy may serve as a test case for how football institutions adapt to the next phase of the crypto cycle. Early enthusiasm and easy money have already given way to bankruptcies, lawsuits, and stricter regulation in many jurisdictions. Clubs that still seek crypto revenue will face growing expectations to demand transparency, prioritize fan protection, and balance commercial opportunities against long‑term reputational risk.
For now, FC Barcelona is standing by its decision, insisting that the sponsorship concerns only branding and has nothing to do with tokens or investment products. Whether fans, former officials, and industry observers accept that distinction — and whether ZKP can prove it is more than a hastily assembled crypto project — will shape how this partnership is remembered: as a much‑needed injection of cash in a difficult period, or as another misstep in a turbulent chapter of the club’s financial history.