The kiss that ruined Spain’s football fiesta
Everyone was ecstatic. Hell, even Queen Letizia rushed down to the field to lead the Spanish players in jumping for joy – complete with fists punching in the air. After all, they had just defeated England to win Spain’s first Women’s World Cup.
Who could’ve foreseen the scandal a jubilant kiss would cause? Yet, thanks to it, that thrill of victory is now playing out like the agony of defeat.
Indeed, I marked Spain’s jubilation by juxtaposing it with England’s humiliation. And, unlike Queen Letizia, no member of the British royal family even bothered to show up to support England’s women’s team. That royal snub only compounded their humiliation.
But, in the heat of jubilation, the Royal Spanish Football Federation president, Luis Rubiales, kissed star player Jennifer Hermoso on the lips. He even grabbed his crotch, a la Michael Jackson.
But, in the moment, neither seemed (too) offensive. And both seemed wholly understandable and forgivable.
A smack of ignorance in a land of air kisses
Thanks to social media, that kiss has become the chauvinistic slight of the century. The irony, of course, is that in Spain, kissing is as commonplace as the midday siesta or a glass of sangria under the sun.
Sure enough, Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez kissed each player as he greeted them at his official residence to celebrate their championship. The key, of course, is that he gave them the customary and respectful air kiss on both cheeks, not a smack on the lips like Rubiales gave Hermoso.
The real scandal: gaslighting heroine Hermoso
That kiss sparked a national scandal. But it was just a kiss. The toxic masculinity Rubiales displayed when it blew up on social media is what turned it into a scandal.
A real man would have apologized for getting carried away in the moment. That would have limited the kiss to a one-day viral story, like so many others. Indeed, I suspect Hermoso herself would have led the nation in forgiving his excited smack on the lips.
Instead, Rubiales was defiant. He insisted the kiss was consensual. And his chauvinism is such that he thought he could gaslight Hermosa into saying it was. He didn’t care that she was already on record saying the kiss was not consensual. She even said it made her uncomfortable.
That gaslighting is why a simple kiss has come to this:
Only hours after [Rubiales] insisted he would not step down for grabbing and kissing [Hermoso] at the Women’s World Cup medals ceremony last weekend in Australia, players on the squad announced on Friday that they would refuse to play until he was gone.
In a joint statement issued through their union, dozens of players said they would not take the field to play for Spain ‘if the current managers continue.'”
(The New York Times, August 25, 2023)
The irony of ironies is that over a dozen Spanish players mutinied against Coach Jorge Vilda last September. They complained to (you guessed it) Rubiales that Vilda had created a toxic playing environment. And that their mental health had become so affected they could no longer play for him.
In hindsight, it’s unsurprising that Rubiales got rid of them and kept Vilda. Even more notable is that the team’s best players did not join that mutiny. Captain Irene Paredes, twice Ballon d’Or winner Alexia Putellas, and, yes, veteran striker Hermoso sided with Vilda.
This World Cup title could’ve been their vindication. But that kiss has turned it into a national humiliation.
From champagne cheers to bitter tears
Every media outlet should’ve been blaring headlines about Spain’s epic win, filling every Spaniard with unbridled pride. Instead, blaring headlines refer to
- Rubiales insisting he will not quit;
- players, united this time, insisting they will not play;
- Spanish soccer federation, aping Rubiales’s toxic masculinity, threatening to sue Hermoso for not covering up for him; and
- FIFA hoping time will heal all wounds by suspending Rubiales for 90 days.
Of course, the Spanish soccer federation refused to fire its coach, Vilda. But the greatest irony is that it now faces an existential imperative to fire its president, Rubiales. Because you can bet your life savings that, if it refuses to, the Spanish government will fire the whole federation – in the public interest.
Meanwhile, in a theatrical twist, Rubiales’s mother has barricaded herself in a church, vowing a hunger strike until the “inhumane treatment of her son” ceases.” He has his mother making a spectacle of herself by pretending to sacrifice her life for his mistakes. Because nothing affirms his toxic masculinity quite like that, right?
Frankly, you’d expect this kind of soap opera to play out in Italy. But a dispiriting pall is descending over Spain. The country should be suffering from a hangover. But it should be from an overdose of joy and perhaps too much cava.
Instead, this hangover is from an exuberant kiss and the toxic masculinity it exposed. Never in the history of sports has the sweet taste of victory been so swiftly replaced by the bitter taste of scandal. Alas, soccer can be as much a field of drama as it is of dreams.