Rubiales is not exempt from dribbling

Colleagues from

say that Luis Rubiales used a spy pen to record — clandestinely, logically — his face-to-face meetings with some ministers and various senior members of the Executive, which is the most dangerous thing a president of any official body can do. as soon as he was sworn in: believing himself to be James Bond.

Impossible, then, not to remember that episode in which Seinfeld and Elaine travel to Florida to attend the tribute that the condominium associates prepare for the comedian's father.

One of them shows him his latest acquisition, an astronaut pen, and Jerry can't help but praise the ingenious invention.

He puts so much effort into appearing impressed that the retiree feels the obligation to give it to him, giving rise to a violent schism within the community: who knows how many spy pens Rubiales must have given to his victims for the mere fact of not appearing impolite.

From what is morally reprehensible, which could well be defined as a federative president earning more or less money depending on which teams play a certain competition, we have moved on to espionage by order and even authorship, to the conscious adulteration of a competition or to the administration disloyal, including some trip it is not known if more for pleasure than for business, on behalf of the RFEF, which, by the way, reviews the background of the institution and begins to think that all these people approach football with the sole intention to know the world, as before so many others approached the field of religion and missions.

"This is a mafia, but I don't think it will get to the point where they find me lying in a gutter with a shot in the head," said Rubiales at that press conference where he offered more apologies than explanations: man, it's not like New York be Baltimore.

The anecdotal part of the information signed by José María Olmo and Alejandro Requeijo, if any of them allows us to frivolize with the content, evaporated with those first audios in which Gerard Piqué proposed to contact the king emeritus so that he would provide them with —free, as if he were a youngster of the world— some contacts in the mercantile orchard of Saudi Arabia: as some acquaintance reminds him on the plane that will bring him back to Spain, Don Juan Carlos dies of laughter before putting one foot in the Real Club Náutico de Sanxenxo.

Almost everything revealed since then should be reason enough for José Luis Rubiales to present his resignation but, look where, that industrial side that we remember from his time as a footballer does not seem to be exempt from dribbling either.

“I am a normal guy, from Motril.

I don't smoke, I don't drink, but I can't guarantee that tomorrow they're going to put a sack of cocaine in my trunk, ”she continued in that first appearance.

It sounded a bit exaggerated to all of us but, as soon as scandals and evidence continue to accumulate, something like this happening could end up seeming like the least of his problems.

You can follow EL PAÍS Deportes on

Exclusive content for subscribers

read without limits

subscribe

I'm already a subscriber