How I like football and how much of its packaging blows my mind.
A couple of weeks ago, after the Mallorca-Madrid match in the Spanish Super Cup in Yida, the wives and relatives of some Balearic players revealed that they had had a hard time at the doors of the King Abdullah stadium. They said that several Saudi fans, male of course, had surrounded them: they touched them, mocked them, harassed them, scared them.
“It was as if we had been sent to the slaughterhouse, exposed to unbearable harassment”
–It was as if they had sent us to the slaughterhouse, exposed to a situation of harassment that should not have been allowed –said Cristina Palavra, Dani Rodríguez’s partner.
–They chased us to the buses. “Then they started pushing us and hitting the windows,” added Natalia Kaluzova, Dominic Greif’s wife.
They spoke of “vertigo and panic.”
And journalists and bureaucrats took note, each according to their style book: while the story abounded in the media, the Spanish Federation qualified it. From the offices of the entity there was talk of “overwhelm”, not “harassment”. The entity also said it would investigate it.
-Sure?
-Sure.
Already.
The president of the RFEF, Rafael Louzán
A few days later, the new president of Hispaniola, Rafael Louzán, made football blush: he announced that he was considering taking the women’s Super Cup to Saudi Arabia, like the men’s.
(…)
You can see Louzán’s feather duster, he moves his dough. But I have doubts: I wonder if he is measuring his strength correctly. Although the Spanish footballers remain silent, I suspect that this is not going to end like this.
To prepare my mouth, I went to Netflix.
I checked It’s over.
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#hope #dont #Sergio #Heredia
