I'm here to promote football, to learn. I still don't understand the red card.
In a hearing room in Brazil, a Portuguese coach and a Brazilian referee offered two irreconcilable accounts of a single heated moment — and the tribunal, weighing language, culture, and credibility, chose to believe the foreigner. Abel Ferreira, Palmeiras' manager, was acquitted of misconduct charges stemming from a Copa do Brasil dismissal, escaping a suspension that could have kept him from the touchline for up to six matches. The case turns on something older than football: the difficulty of knowing what was truly said, and by whom, when tempers and tongues collide across cultural lines.
- A referee's written report accused Ferreira of three specific profanities — precise enough to suggest certainty, serious enough to end a coach's season in fragments.
- Ferreira's defense cut to the core: the phrases attributed to him were Brazilian expressions a Portuguese speaker simply wouldn't use, making the account linguistically implausible.
- The presence of a fourth official as alleged witness added pressure, but Ferreira maintained he had sought only explanation, not confrontation, and was met with silence.
- Three of five judges voted to acquit, clearing Ferreira to return to the dugout immediately — a majority verdict, but not a unanimous one.
- The case remains open to appeal at the STJD's full panel, meaning the unresolved question of who told the truth could yet return to the surface.
On January 18th, Abel Ferreira appeared before a Brazilian sports tribunal facing charges that carried a potential six-match ban and fines nearing R$100,000. The Palmeiras coach had been sent off during a Copa do Brasil quarterfinal against Ceará, and referee Bráulio da Silva Machado had documented three specific profanities in his match report. Ferreira, appearing via video call, denied them all.
His argument was precise: the expressions the referee attributed to him were distinctly Brazilian Portuguese — phrases he said he had never used and wouldn't know to use, having arrived in Brazil only weeks before the match. He admitted to one outburst, a frustrated dismissal of a penalty decision, but framed it as the kind of mild expression he might use over a cup of tea at home. He described approaching the referee afterward not in anger, but in genuine confusion, hoping to understand the red card — and being refused any explanation.
The tribunal's majority sided with him. Three judges voted to acquit; two others favored a lesser caution. Ferreira was cleared to coach without restriction. Yet the verdict resolves the legal question without settling the human one — somewhere between a referee's report and a coach's memory, the truth of that moment remains contested, and an appeal to the STJD's full panel could yet reopen it.
Abel Ferreira walked into a hearing room on Monday, January 18th, facing the possibility of a six-match suspension and a fine approaching one hundred thousand reais. The Palmeiras coach had been sent off during a Copa do Brasil quarterfinal against Ceará, and the referee, Bráulio da Silva Machado, had documented in his match report that Ferreira had hurled specific profanities at him. The Portuguese manager had a different account of what happened that day.
Ferreira's defense, delivered via video call, hinged on a single argument: the referee had lied. He acknowledged saying something, but not what the official claimed. "There's a microphone right below me," he explained to the tribunal. "I arrived in Brazil and this was my third match. The expressions he said I used—I've never spoken them in my life. Those are Brazilian expressions, and in Portuguese we don't speak that way." He admitted to saying one phrase—"f*** it, that's not a penalty"—but framed it as a cultural expression, the kind of thing he might say about hot tea back home. An outright dismissal seemed harsh for that.
The referee's report had been specific. Bráulio claimed Ferreira said three things: "go f*** yourself, go take it in the ass, come see that it was nothing." The fourth official, Ilbert Estevam da Silva, had supposedly witnessed the outburst. But Ferreira pushed back on every detail. He said he'd asked the fourth official why he was being sent off, and the official told him the referee had ordered it. He said he'd approached Bráulio afterward to understand the decision, to learn from it, and the referee refused to explain. "I was bewildered," Ferreira said. "I'm here to promote football, to promote Brazilian football, to learn. And to this day I don't understand the red card. What the referee wrote is false."
The tribunal's three judges voted to acquit him. Two others voted for a caution instead. The majority sided with Ferreira: the charges didn't stick. He was cleared to return to the sideline immediately, free to coach Palmeiras in upcoming matches without restriction.
But the case isn't closed. Brazilian sports law allows for appeal to the full panel of the STJD, the highest instance of the tribunal. Someone could still push this further. For now, though, Ferreira has won the first round—a vindication of sorts, though one that leaves the fundamental question unresolved: what exactly was said in that moment, and who was telling the truth? The referee's microphone and the coach's memory had recorded two different conversations.
Citas Notables
The expressions he said I used—I've never spoken them in my life. Those are Brazilian expressions, and in Portuguese we don't speak that way.— Abel Ferreira, in his defense
What the referee wrote is false.— Abel Ferreira
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does a coach's language toward a referee matter enough to suspend him for matches?
Because the sport has rules about respect for authority. A red card is final on the field—the referee's word is law. If coaches can curse them out without consequence, the whole system breaks down.
But Ferreira said it was a cultural misunderstanding. Does that hold weight?
That's what the tribunal decided, yes. He's Portuguese, new to Brazil, and he argued the phrases the referee attributed to him aren't even part of his vocabulary. Three judges believed him.
What about the fourth official who supposedly heard it?
That's the thing—Ferreira never disputed that someone heard something. He just said it wasn't what the referee claimed. The tribunal apparently found that credible enough.
Could this happen again? Could he be punished on appeal?
Absolutely. The case can go to the full panel. This is just the first decision. But for now he's coaching, so the immediate threat is gone.
Does he seem angry about what happened?
More confused than angry. He kept saying he didn't understand why the referee wouldn't explain the red card. That seemed to bother him more than the expulsion itself.