Football's transfer market has reached a point where the numbers barely shock anyone anymore, but the real story isn't the money it's what clubs are doing because of it. With top sides hunting for value wherever they can find it and mid-tier clubs being squeezed out of the market, the sport has quietly shifted toward an internal arms race: the rise of B-teams. Global transfer spending only reinforces this trend. It has surged from €5.9 billion in 2015 to €12.2 billion in 2023, with 2025 already on pace to set another record after €8.26 billion was spent in the summer alone. Inflation hasn't just distorted the market; it has reshaped club strategy, turning what was once a Spanish peculiarity into a widespread attempt to create in-house strategic assets.

At its core, a B-team is a lower-tier club affiliated with a bigger one, designed to bridge the gap between youth competitions and professional football. Yet the way these teams are structured and used varies widely across countries and clubs. In theory, it's where talent matures, tactics are absorbed, and first-team hopefuls harden themselves against senior opposition. In reality, their purpose depends entirely on who is running them. Barcelona's approach is almost ideological: Barça Atlètic is the final test of whether a youngster has truly absorbed the club's footballing DNA. Real Madrid's Castilla, for years, was something different: an elegant revenue engine. Only recently have Madrid leaned more heavily on their own youth to feed the first team.

Yet the internal logic of B-teams is only half the story. The real controversy starts since their impact extends far beyond evelopment. Their presence inside the league pyramid has long raised questions about competitive integrity. Critics argue that B-teams distort the balance of lower divisions, benefiting from resources that independent clubs simply cannot match. Backed by the finances, facilities, and staffing of elite organizations - and able to drop first-team players into key fixtures when needed - reserve sides introduce an uneven playing field that many believe undermines the fairness of the competition. On the positive side, their inclusion can raise the overall standard of play, attract more attention to lower divisions, and provide young players with valuable competitive experience. As the 'Football Club Group' noted, the lower leagues remain "the backbone of the game… providing a competitive environment that nurtures talent, supports local communities, and keeps the footballing ecosystem vibrant and sustainable." However, the financial and institutional power of elite clubs often skews this balance. In a system increasingly shaped by the priorities of major teams and their affiliates, smaller clubs face growing conomic, cultural, and social pressures that challenge their ability to compete on equal terms. Thus, while B-teams undeniably serve an important developmental function, their existence also demands a careful reassessment.

Beyond the sporting debate, B-teams force clubs to confront a far more pragmatic question: are they economically sustainable? Running a second team demands substantial long-term investment, and not every club can justify the expense. The opportunity cost is real. Money tied up in a B-team is money not spent on the first-team squad, infrastructure or even targeted academy projects. Before anything else, the economics must start with the basics: what these teams cost, and what they realistically bring in.

Despite rarely being judged on results, B-teams are far from small operations. They can absorb anywhere from €10 to €50 million per season, with structures that mirror the professional environment of their parent club. Barcelona B is the most striking example, operating with a budget of around €47 million (the highest in its division). Yet these significant outlays are met with minimal direct revenue. Match-day income is negligible: Spanish B-teams draw roughly 980 to 1,600 spectators per game, with €5 tickets that rarely generate even €1 million per year. Commercial appeal is similarly limited. On a purely financial basis, the model should not survive.

And yet clubs continue to fund them. Not because the B-team pays for itself, but because it feeds a wider system. The true economic logic lies in the value that flows through the second team, not within it. Elite academies have become multimillion-euro pipelines, and the B-team acts as their most important proving ground. Real Madrid's La Fábrica is the clearest example: producing €450–500 million in outgoing transfers over the last 15–20 years. A single strong generation can effectively wipe out a decade of operating losses. In that sense, a B-team is not a standalone entity at all; it is the middle stage in a value-creation funnel. However, is the second team's influence in this funnel enough to justify their costly existence?

On their own, B-teams can lay the groundwork for player development, but their true potential is unlocked only when supported by a coherent institutional framework. The English model illustrates how strong structural support can, in some cases, replace the need for second teams altogether. Since the introduction of the Elite Player Performance Plan (EPPP) in 2012, England has focused on a nationwide approach to youth development - emphasizing coaching quality, data-driven performance monitoring, and education standards across all academies. Rather than embedding reserve sides in the league pyramid, England relies on structured age-group competitions and a reserve league to provide competitive experience in a more controlled environment.

Spain, by contrast, represents the most integrated B-team system in Europe. Nearly every club (Barcelona, Real Madrid, Real Sociedad, Celta Vigo, Athletic Bilbao, Villarreal…) fields a second team competing in the national league structure. These sides act as genuine extensions of their first teams, allowing players to develop within the club's tactical and cultural identity while gaining professional experience against senior opposition. This model as well has proven effective in producing first-team-ready players but has also drawn criticism for skewing competitive balance in the lower divisions. Germany and Italy instead occupy a position in between these two extremes. In Germany, tighter licensing rules and limited promotion pathways have made B-teams less prevalent but some clubs still have them as developmental bridges. In Italy, the trend has only recently begun to take place. After the success of Juventus Next Gen, clubs such as Inter, Milan, and Atalanta have also started investing in a more structured pathway between youth football and the professional game. Even if its to soon for data too tell this two systems reflect efforts to balance institutional regulation with the flexibility of club-led development: a middle ground that seeks to preserve competition while still nurturing talent.

In the end, B-teams are accelerators: brief, controlled environments where potential is rapidly shaped into something usable. They were never meant to be destinations, only crossings, and it is in that brevity that both their value and their vulnerability lie. When a second team is aligned with a club's philosophy and supported by a coherent framework, it becomes a decisive competitive edge, the quiet machinery that turns prospects into professionals or assets. But when it drifts from that purpose, it slips into a familiar and costly limbo, absorbing resources without producing return. The verdict, then, is clear: a B-team justifies its existence only when it consistently turns promise into performance; anything less is simply waste dressed up as development