Ashkan Karbasfrooshan on Reviving the Expos and Nordiques

Every few years, people start talking about bringing back the Montreal Expos or the Quebec Nordiques. The conversations always sound the same—full of fond memories, but also a lot of doubt. Ashkan Karbasfrooshan looks at this whole thing differently. He’s not just dreaming; he actually understands how owning a sports team has changed.

These days, it’s not about feel-good stories. It’s all about the business side. Sentiment, he says, doesn’t convince leagues or owners to make moves. Structure does. Karbasfrooshan’s name rings out in Montreal and way beyond, mostly because he started WatchMojo. But he doesn’t talk about reviving these teams like it’s some emotional homecoming. For him, it’s a modern business challenge. The game isn’t about old-school ticket sales or local pride anymore. Now, it’s private equity, global media deals, and a totally different way to make money—nothing like the world the Expos left behind.

The End of the Lone Billionaire Era

Karbasfrooshan puts it simply: the days of a single rich owner like Jerry Jones or George Steinbrenner calling all the shots are mostly over. These days, you don’t just buy a sports team—you build one piece by piece.

“In 2025, sports ownership is matchmaking,” he explains. With trillions of dollars sitting in private equity markets and a significant portion already earmarked for live sports and entertainment, the question is no longer whether capital exists, but how it is structured.

There’s more than enough money out there, especially with trillions in private equity already set aside for live sports and entertainment. The real challenge now isn’t finding cash, it’s figuring out how to put it together. Take Major League Baseball, for example. They cap how much any one group can own—private equity firms might get up to 15%, and all private equity combined can’t go over 30%.

After that, you start filling in the blanks: family offices, wealthy individuals, ex-players, entrepreneurs—everyone gets a slice. Karbasfrooshan likes the idea of owning a small piece himself, say five or ten percent, while helping pull together a group with the right mix of interests, voting power, and long-term goals. Before you know it, you’re not looking at some billionaire’s ego trip. You’ve got a real ownership group, built to fit league rules and keep investors happy.

Confronting the Canadian Reality Head-On

Whenever people talk about bringing MLB or NHL teams back to Quebec, the same problems come up every time: stadium issues, doubts about the fans, and, of course, the weak Canadian dollar.

“Everything is a fair criticism,” he says bluntly. This is not a “build it and they will come” pitch. Currency exchange will always matter. Player salaries are paid in U.S. dollars, and revenue volatility is real. But focusing solely on currency ignores the other side of the ledger.

Karbasfrooshan doesn’t just shrug these off—he leans right into them. Sure, things cost less to run in Canada, but the bigger point is this: pro sports isn’t just about selling tickets anymore. That’s not what makes or breaks a team these days.’

A Changed Business Model

Karbasfrooshan notices a big change in how Major League Baseball makes its money. These days, ticket sales account for only about 31% of total revenue. The rest comes from broadcast rights, sponsorships, licensing, and media deals—things that aren’t really tied to local currency. His background really comes into play here.

As a global media executive, Karbasfrooshan doesn’t look at a Montreal-based team as just a local thing. He thinks of it as international intellectual property. Take the Expos, for example. If they came back, the brand could pull in sponsors and partners from way beyond North America. Fans and media deals don’t care about borders. Sure, the Canadian dollar matters, but it’s not a dealbreaker.

Media, Sports, and the Global Lens

Karbasfrooshan’s vision sits at the intersection of sports and media, a space he knows intimately. WatchMojo’s success is based on their understanding of how global audiences interact with content, brands, and nostalgia at a large scale. According to him, sports franchises should and can operate in the same manner.

Instead of relying solely on gate receipts or local TV deals, teams can build diversified revenue streams across digital platforms, international sponsorships, and

The Role of Competitive Balance

Another structural change strengthens the case: the growing emphasis on cost controls and competitive balance. With salary caps often comes a salary floor, but Karbasfrooshan isn’t worried about minimum spending. He’s concerned about smart spending.

If leagues continue to move toward tighter economic controls, the macroeconomic landscape for operating a team in Canada shifts dramatically. A cap system reduces runaway payroll disparities and narrows the gap between traditional “big markets” and everyone else. In that world, Montreal isn’t a disadvantage—it’s an opportunity.

More Than Nostalgia

Karbasfrooshan isn’t selling a memory of the Expos or the Nordiques. He’s relevance of sale. His pitch isn’t about what these teams used to mean, but about what they could mean in a globalized, media-driven sports economy.

The obstacles are real. The questions are fair. But for the first time in a long while, the argument for bringing major league sports back to Quebec isn’t rooted in emotion alone. It’s rooted in spreadsheets, governance structures, and an understanding that sports franchises are no longer just teams—they’re platforms.

And in 2025, platforms can live anywhere, as long as the math works, and branded content. He asserts that having a global perspective is precisely what makes markets such as Montreal viable again.