Bloody Hell, Evo's Been Acquired! Time For The FGC To Pick A Side: Values Or 'Life-Changing Money'?

AI Gaming News Author · Eurogamer · Mon Sep 08 2025

The fighting game community's biggest tournament, Evo, has been acquired by Saudi Arabian interests, forcing players and fans to grapple with a tough choice: embrace much-needed financial support or uphold the scene's long-standing values amidst concerns of 'sportswashing.'

Right, so I’ve been tinkering with this story all morning, and mate, it’s wilder than it first appeared. You know that feeling when you cast a spell that works a bit *too* well, and suddenly you’ve got a dragon in your kitchen? Well, the fighting game community (FGC) might just be facing its own version of that, but with a whole lot of cash and some rather thorny questions.

Recently, the news dropped that RTS, co-owner of Evo – the absolute pinnacle, the holy grail, the biggest bloody tournament in the fighting game world – has been acquired by the Saudi Arabian city of Qiddiya. Now, while Evo isn't the *only* shindig on the calendar, it’s undeniably a symbol for the FGC. The one everyone looks up to. And now? Well, the community, bless its passionate heart, has a proper choice to make: uphold its long-standing values, or take a rather hefty bag of cash.

This isn't just about a bigger prize pool, mind. That 'bag' is doubtlessly stuffed with the kind of financial support that fighting game's best players and organisers have been dreaming of – in some cases, outright *needing*. But, as with any deal that seems a bit too good to be true, this one comes with a rather significant catch. And it’s a big one. As highlighted in a rather insightful piece by Connor Makar for Eurogamer (titled 'The Saudi Arabian takeover of fighting games' biggest tournament means players - and the wider community - have a choice to make: between its culture and a payout,' published on September 8, 2025), this move is part of a larger 'sportswashing' campaign by the Saudi Arabian government.

Now, I’m all for new investment, but when that investment comes from a government with a documented history of human rights abuses – like being ranked fourth globally on the slavery index, the assassination of journalist Jamal Khashoggi, and an alarming surge in state executions for non-violent crimes – it's fair dinkum to raise an eyebrow, isn’t it? It's not exactly a secret that the Saudi Arabian Public Investment Fund (PIF) has been splashing cash across various industries, trying to paint a shinier picture of the country. And the gaming world, it seems, is a prime target.

And it’s not just the new owners. Turns out, until recently, Sony – also a major partner of the Saudi Arabian Esports World Cup – was a co-owner of Evo. Its share was picked up by Nodwin Gaming, an Indian esports business with actual decades of event experience, which is a relief from the usual newcomers trying to milk passionate young gamers for a quick buck. But guess what? As of July this year, Nodwin is *also* working extensively with the Saudi Arabian government for the Esports World Cup media rights in India. So, if you thought the right flank was a bit dodgy, the left isn't exactly a bastion of independent virtue either, eh?

So, how did we even get into this magical mess? Well, the Saudi venture into video games has, for the most part, gone largely uncontested. And the timing? Spot on. Esports organisations, having struggled to find sustainable income streams, managed to scare off investors a few years back. Translation: most of the competitive gaming space right now is absolutely ravenous for cash. And if the wider esports scene is skint, the fighting game scene is practically on ramen noodles and hopes and dreams.

For years, the FGC has been a beautiful, chaotic anomaly. It's kept that old-school arcade spirit alive, with open-bracket tournaments where anyone, literally *anyone*, can sign up and try their luck against the world’s best. This has been brilliant for steady growth and cultural development – going to an FGC event is as much a social gathering as it is a competition. But the flip side? It makes it bloody tough for pro players to make a decent living. Sponsoring a player in an open-bracket means there’s no guarantee your logo will ever see the light of a livestream, let alone the finals stage. Prize pools help, sure, but a million dollars for the Capcom Cup winner doesn't stretch far when fifth place gets you ten grand – hardly enough to live off for a year. Take MenaRD, for instance, who won Evo 2025 and bagged a modest $16,932. Hardly superstar money, is it?

It’s why so many top players, like the beloved Bryant 'Smug' Huggins, have had to pivot to content creation on YouTube and Twitch. And who can blame them? When Saudi Arabia rocks up with 'life-changing money' – like the Esports World Cup's reported $60m+ prize pool – it’s hardly a shock that most folks dedicated to the genre weren't in a position to turn it down. This brings us to the crux of it, mate: the everyday people in the FGC are caught in a lose-lose situation.

Think about Victor 'Punk' Woodley, Evo 2024 Street Fighter champion, who dropped out of school long before Saudi involvement. Or Alex Jebailey, owner of CEO events, who’s been running tournaments since 2010. Hosting these events is expensive, stressful, and rarely profitable. So is it truly a surprise that Jebailey, with a company and family to support, is now working with the Esports World Cup? Or that Woodley, who’s committed everything to gaming, hasn’t just packed it in? These aren't multi-millionaire footballers or boxers; these are folks who’ve poured their lives into a passion, now facing a tough reality.

Now, some will point to the USA’s own historical sins and say it’s hypocritical to take a stand against Saudi involvement while competing in American events. But that’s a bit of a dodge, isn’t it? As Makar points out, Evo and other American events were community-driven, without government influence. Others argue that direct engagement is the only way to influence change, but when a recent Amazon documentary on the EWC blurs out rainbow flags on players' uniforms, and executions in the country have *increased* since the EWC's emergence, it doesn’t exactly scream 'positive impact on human rights,' does it? And the idea that it benefits local talent? The EWC is largely invitational, bringing in foreign players, not nurturing local scenes. Most of these justifications, when you poke at them even a little, kinda fall apart, revealing themselves as excuses to make a quick buck without having to question it too deeply.

This glitz, this glamour, this extravagant spending – it’s for a reason. And this week, it became crystal clear that the Saudi government isn’t slowing down. They want it all. I’m certain there are wonderful people at Evo with their hearts in the right place, wanting to serve the community. And I reckon Evo Vegas next year will still be a blast, probably with even bigger prize pools. But the reality is, the event, regardless of individual intent, is now a component in this wider sportswashing effort. It’s a bummer, but that’s the reality.

There's no global regulatory body to stop this, no bigger fish (or, given esports' profitability woes, 'greater fool') to buy the tournament back. So, this isn't going away anytime soon, unless the Saudi government decides competitive gaming isn't worth the squeeze. The consequences are unavoidable, mate: diehard FGC fans, players, devs, publishers, and organisers all face a decision. Stay true to the FGC’s core ideal – that *all* are welcome – or take the money, knowing full well where it came from and what it truly means. At the very least, it's time for those who’ve expressed their displeasure to turn words into action, support grassroots events, and draw a line in the sand. For everyone else, it’s now absolutely clear: the time for turning a blind eye to sportswashing in fighting games is officially over.

Tags: Esports, FightingGames, Evo, GamingIndustry, Community

Original article: Eurogamer