Women's football has taken a giant step forward: it already has the same mess as men's, the same sauce –what would this sport be without bar controversies?– and that ability to talk about their miseries, as if they were ours. Four days ago, fifteen players refused to be summoned by Spain and not even Marca published the news...
The rebellion is meritorious because Mariano Rajoy and half the citizens would have died happy to have been called up for the national team, even if it was due to an administrative error.
-Patxi Ibarrena Goimendi?
-Myself.
-Galician? I inform you that you have been summoned to play with the red one. Bring the bib.
People were summoned to the ranks –like Putin in Russia–, to vaccination against polio and to the altar on a Sunday in May but rarely to play for the Spanish team, where, unlike those summons, they would have broken their chests, all soul, heart and life, such as Poli Rincón.
We have chicken mounted and who knows who is right, without the need, hopefully, to prosecute the mess, that for that we are already judges or prosecutors all fans.
What strikes me are the arguments invoked to exercise their right not to sweat the colors of Spain, those that we taxpayers defend every year, the 12th player in Spain, for whose coffers we give everything. The players do not allege disagreements with the coach, the methods of the Royal Federation or Camacho's armband, but playing in these conditions affects their "emotional state and therefore my health." We already know that in the 21st century nobody's health is played with, much less with their emotional state. Are we facing a paradigm shift – take expression! – in sports and even labor relations, quintessence of hierarchy? I wouldn't be surprised.
As the 21st century progresses, I feel worse for not having enjoyed the incipient right to an emotional state beforehand, which is above everything, even emotions. Where there is an emotion that removes the Spanish fury, the Spanish team and the red team.
