Adults have to transform our own values first, and then pass them on to our children
En España, uno de cada cuatro estudiantes sufre acoso escolar, una cifra que convierte el silencio colectivo en una forma de complicidad. El centrocampista Saúl Ñíguez, quien vivió el acoso tanto como víctima como agresor en su infancia, ha encontrado en su trayectoria una responsabilidad: la de recordar que el bullying no es un fenómeno exclusivo de los patios de colegio, sino el reflejo de los valores que los adultos construyen y toleran. Desde LaLiga, cuarenta y dos clubes se han unido bajo una misma convicción: que el fútbol, con su enorme peso cultural, puede ser un instrumento para transformar conductas y romper el ciclo del silencio.
- Uno de cada cuatro estudiantes españoles sufre acoso escolar, y solo el diez por ciento de los testigos interviene para ayudar a la víctima.
- Saúl Ñíguez revela que fue tanto víctima como agresor en su infancia, exponiendo la fragilidad de los roles y la facilidad con que la crueldad circula entre los niños.
- LaLiga lanza 'Un equipo no deja a nadie solo', movilizando a los 42 clubes de la liga al inicio del curso escolar para educar y sensibilizar a millones de personas.
- Ñíguez sitúa la responsabilidad en los adultos: transformar los propios valores antes de transmitirlos a los hijos es, según él, el primer paso real contra el acoso.
- El Sevilla FC lleva dos décadas con el programa 'Sácale partido al cole', demostrando que las intervenciones concretas en centros educativos pueden cambiar dinámicas reales.
Saúl Ñíguez llegó al Sevilla FC este verano con dos décadas de fútbol profesional a sus espaldas y una historia personal que pocos conocen: de niño sufrió acoso escolar con la suficiente intensidad como para amenazar el sueño futbolístico que heredó de su familia. Pero lo que distingue su testimonio no es solo haber sobrevivido al acoso, sino haber reconocido que también lo ejerció. Esa doble experiencia le otorga una lucidez poco común: la crueldad en la infancia es arbitraria, los roles son intercambiables, y nadie está del todo a salvo ni del todo exento.
Hoy, como padre y figura pública, Ñíguez encuadra el problema como un fracaso adulto antes que como un conflicto juvenil. 'Los adultos tenemos que transformar primero nuestros propios valores para luego transmitírselos a nuestros hijos', afirmó en el primer episodio de la segunda temporada de LALIGA VS. En España, uno de cada cuatro estudiantes experimenta acoso, según la Asociación para la Prevención del Acoso Escolar, lo que convierte el silencio del noventa por ciento de los testigos en una forma activa de complicidad.
Para romper ese ciclo, LaLiga ha lanzado LALIGA VS BULLYING, una campaña que une a los 42 clubes de la competición bajo el lema 'Un equipo no deja a nadie solo'. La iniciativa arrancó al inicio del curso escolar y se apoya en la misma lógica que guió la campaña antiracismo de la temporada anterior: la autoridad cultural del fútbol puede movilizarse para cambiar comportamientos. El Sevilla FC, por su parte, lleva veinte años desarrollando 'Sácale partido al cole', un programa que lleva a cientos de estudiantes a talleres y actividades diseñadas para prevenir el acoso desde dentro de las aulas.
Lo que Ñíguez encarna, y lo que su propia historia demuestra, es que el acoso no es inevitable. Es una elección sostenida por el silencio y habilitada por los adultos. Cambiarlo exige lo mismo que ganar un partido: que cada miembro del equipo cumpla su parte.
Saúl Ñíguez arrived at Sevilla FC this summer carrying two decades of professional football behind him—and a wound that nearly ended his career before it began. The midfielder from Alicante, who spent more than a decade at Atlético Madrid before his recent move, was bullied as a child. The harassment was severe enough that it threatened to extinguish the dream he inherited from his father, Boria, a legend at Elche CF in the 1980s, and his brothers Jonathan and Aarón, who were finding their own footing in the professional game.
What makes Ñíguez's story unusual is not just that he survived that experience. It's that he also perpetrated it. "When I was young, I think I also did some very wrong things to other kids," he said in the first episode of the second season of LALIGA VS, a video podcast produced by La Liga in collaboration with Prisa. Having inhabited both sides of bullying—as victim and as perpetrator—gave him a clarity that many adults never achieve. He saw how easily cruelty flows through childhood, how arbitrary the roles can be, how quickly a child can shift from one position to the other.
Today, as a father of two, Ñíguez has become an advocate for confronting the problem directly. He frames it not as a youth issue alone but as an adult failure. "Adults have to transform our own values first, and then pass them on to our children," he told journalist Rafael Pineda, who has covered sports in Seville for more than three decades. The statement cuts to something essential: that bullying is not simply a schoolyard phenomenon but a reflection of the culture adults create and tolerate. In Spain, one in four students experiences bullying, according to research from the Association for the Prevention of School Harassment. That's millions of young people whose education and wellbeing are compromised by systematic cruelty.
The solution, in Ñíguez's view, requires visibility and courage. When a child witnesses harassment, they must report it—to a teacher, a coach, a parent, whoever holds authority. Only about ten percent of children actually help a victim when they see bullying happen. The silence of the other ninety percent is itself a form of complicity. But Ñíguez believes football, with its enormous reach and cultural weight, can shift that calculus. "With so many people following it, football is a good tool to fight all kinds of hatred, whether racism or bullying," he said. "It's a positive way to communicate a message to everyone."
La Liga has begun to act on that premise. The organization launched a new initiative called LALIGA VS BULLYING, uniting all 42 clubs in the league around a single campaign: "Un equipo no deja a nadie solo"—a team doesn't leave anyone alone. The campaign rolled out at the start of the school year, designed to educate, sensitize, and prevent harassment across millions of people. It builds on work La Liga did last season against racism, using the same platform and the same logic: that football's cultural authority can be mobilized to change behavior.
Sevilla FC itself has been running a program called "Sácale partido al cole" for two decades—a school-based initiative that brings hundreds of students through workshops, training activities, and matches designed specifically to combat and prevent bullying. These are not abstract gestures. They are concrete interventions in the lives of children, using the language and structure of football to teach solidarity and sportsmanship.
What Ñíguez understands, and what his own history proves, is that bullying is not inevitable. It is a choice—made by individuals, enabled by adults, and perpetuated by silence. Breaking that cycle requires the same thing that winning a match requires: everyone on the team playing their part. For Ñíguez, that means using his platform, his experience, and his credibility to tell other adults that transformation is possible, and necessary, and that the stakes are the futures of millions of children.
Notable Quotes
Adults have to transform our own values first, and then pass them on to our children— Saúl Ñíguez
With so many people following it, football is a good tool to fight all kinds of hatred, whether racism or bullying— Saúl Ñíguez
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
You've experienced both sides of bullying—as a victim and as someone who bullied others. How did that duality change your understanding of the problem?
It made me realize there's no such thing as a "type" of person who bullies. I was a kid who did wrong things to other kids, and I was also a kid who suffered. The roles aren't fixed. That's why I think adults have to look at ourselves first, because we're the ones creating the culture that allows this to happen.
You mention that only ten percent of children help when they witness bullying. Why do you think the other ninety percent stay silent?
Fear, mostly. Fear of becoming a target yourself. Uncertainty about whether you should get involved. But that silence is what gives bullying its power. If we can change that—if we can make it normal to speak up, to report it—everything shifts.
Football has this massive cultural reach. How specifically does that help combat something as intimate and painful as bullying?
Because millions of people follow football. When a player or a club takes a stand against bullying, it reaches people who might never hear it from a teacher or a counselor. It normalizes the conversation. It says: this matters, and we're all responsible for changing it.
You're a father now. What do you want your children to understand about this that you didn't understand at their age?
That they have a voice. That if they see someone being hurt, they can speak up without being alone. And that if they're the ones doing the hurting, there's still a way back—you can change, you can learn, you can be better.
What does "Un equipo no deja a nadie solo" mean to you personally?
It means exactly what it says. A team doesn't function if someone is isolated or suffering in silence. That's true on the pitch, and it's true in life. We all have a responsibility to each other.