What happened was a mess, but it can be the right push
In the same breath that UEFA convened women's soccer leaders to discuss the future of their sport, the organization paused to thank its departing vice president — a man who had kissed a player without her consent and spent three weeks refusing to apologize. The juxtaposition, unfolding in Switzerland the morning after Luis Rubiales resigned, laid bare a tension as old as institutions themselves: the gap between the values an organization proclaims and the loyalties it quietly protects. For the women in that room, the work of being heard had never felt more necessary — or more fraught.
- Rubiales resigned Sunday evening after three weeks of defiance, offering no apology to Jenni Hermoso, the player he kissed without consent at the Women's World Cup final.
- UEFA's official statement thanked Rubiales for his years of service while expressing no solidarity with the affected players — a silence that spoke as loudly as any words.
- Spain's women players, who had boycotted the national team in protest, now face the possibility of returning after both Rubiales and the coach he shielded were removed.
- Veró Boquete, a former Spain captain and veteran of earlier player revolts, sat in the UEFA advisory meeting and chose to see the crisis as a potential catalyst for lasting change.
- The institution made no senior official available for interview at an event designed to amplify women's voices, leaving the day's contradictions unaddressed and unresolved.
On a Monday in Switzerland, UEFA gathered some of women's soccer's most accomplished figures — Ballon d'Or winners among them — to discuss the future of their sport. The meeting had been convened less than twenty-four hours after Luis Rubiales, UEFA's vice president, finally resigned following three weeks of defiance over his non-consensual kiss of Spanish player Jenni Hermoso at the Women's World Cup final. He had offered no apology. Spanish prosecutors had accused him of sexual assault.
Among those present was Veró Boquete, a former Spain captain who had led a player revolt eight years earlier to remove an unpopular national team coach. She confirmed that Rubiales came up in the meeting — both in specifics and in broader conversations about player welfare and safe spaces. UEFA had launched the advisory board this year precisely to give women's soccer an independent institutional voice.
Then the official statement arrived. UEFA acknowledged the controversy, then thanked Rubiales for his many years of service to European football. There was no word of solidarity for the Spanish players. No support for women's soccer. Only a note that UEFA had no further comment due to ongoing legal proceedings — this from an organization whose president had waited ten days after the World Cup final before calling Rubiales's conduct merely 'inappropriate.'
Boquete, thirty-six and a veteran of clubs across four continents, chose to find possibility in the wreckage. She believed the crisis could push real change — that Spain's women, who had refused to represent their country in protest, might now return with both Rubiales and coach Jorge Vilda gone. Her own career had been cut short when Vilda declined to select her, so she understood the stakes intimately.
'If you want to have a place where everyone can hear you,' she said, 'you need to know what you're going to say.' It was a statement about power — about the labor required to be heard inside institutions that have long looked the other way. Whether UEFA had truly listened remained, by the end of the day, an open question.
On a Monday afternoon in Switzerland, UEFA gathered some of women's soccer's most accomplished players and coaches—three of them Ballon d'Or winners—to discuss the future of their sport. The timing was deliberate: the meeting convened less than twenty-four hours after Luis Rubiales, the European soccer body's vice president, had finally resigned from his position. What happened next revealed a profound disconnect between the stated purpose of the gathering and the institution's actual priorities.
Rubiales had spent three weeks defending himself after kissing Jenni Hermoso, a Spanish player, on the lips during the Women's World Cup final trophy ceremony in Australia. Hermoso said the kiss was unwanted. Spanish prosecutors have accused him of sexual assault. FIFA suspended him pending a disciplinary investigation. Yet Rubiales resisted stepping down, dismissing critics and at times attacking Hermoso herself, until Sunday evening when he abruptly announced his resignation—timed, it appeared, to coincide with an interview on a British cable news channel. He offered no apology to Hermoso.
Among those present at UEFA's Football Board for women's soccer was Veró Boquete, a former Spain captain who had herself led a player revolt eight years earlier to remove an unpopular national team coach. She understood the weight of what had just happened. When asked if Rubiales came up during the meeting, Boquete told the Associated Press that it had, both in specifics and in broader terms about how to protect players and create safe spaces for them. UEFA had launched this advisory board this year specifically to give women's soccer an independent institutional voice on matters including player welfare.
But when UEFA released its official statement Monday afternoon—after its president Aleksander Ceferin had lunched with the women delegates—the message landed like a slap. The organization acknowledged the controversy surrounding Rubiales and his actions. Then it thanked him for his many years of service to European football. There was no expression of solidarity with the Spanish players. There was no word of support for women's soccer. There was only a statement that UEFA had no further comment due to ongoing legal proceedings. Rubiales, one of six vice presidents each earning 250,000 euros annually, had been silent for ten days after the World Cup final before Ceferin finally called his conduct "inappropriate."
Boquete, now thirty-six and a veteran of clubs across the United States, Russia, China, and Europe, chose to see possibility in the wreckage. "What happened in the last three weeks is a mess," she said, "but at the same time it can be the right push." She believed the situation could catalyze real change—that Spain's women players, who had refused to represent their country in protest, might now return now that both Rubiales and Jorge Vilda, the coach he had backed during last year's player rebellion, had been removed. Her own career had been cut short six years ago when Vilda declined to select her, so she understood the stakes.
Boquete's presence on UEFA's advisory panel made sense. She had scored thirty-eight goals for Spain, second only to Hermoso on the all-time women's list. She had won the Women's Champions League. She had educated herself through UEFA's Masters program to build a career in the soccer industry beyond playing. "If you want to have a place where everyone can hear you or listen to you," she said, "you need to know what you're going to say." It was a statement about power and voice—about the work required to be heard in institutions that have historically ignored women.
What remained unclear was whether UEFA itself had heard anything at all. The organization made no senior manager available for interview at the event. The women gathered to shape the future of their game had been thanked for their time. The man who had kissed a player without consent had been thanked for his service. The message, however unintentional, was unmistakable.
Notable Quotes
What happened in the last three weeks is a mess, but at the same time it can be the right push. How you use a bad situation, bad actions, to change something for good?— Veró Boquete, former Spain captain
UEFA acknowledges the public discourse surrounding Mr. Rubiales and his recent actions but would also like to thank him for his many years of service to European football.— UEFA official statement
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did UEFA choose to thank Rubiales in that particular moment, right after hosting women leaders?
It's hard to know if it was calculated or just institutional tone-deafness. But the timing—the day after his resignation, hours after they'd met with women players—made it look like they were trying to close the door on the whole thing.
Did the women at the meeting understand what was happening?
Boquete certainly did. She'd been through her own fight with the Spanish federation. She called it "a mess" but also saw it as a chance to push for real change. She wasn't naive about what UEFA's statement meant.
What does Hermoso get out of this?
An apology from Rubiales, for one thing, which she never received. His resignation was about protecting Spain's World Cup bid, not about acknowledging what he did to her. The criminal investigation continues, but institutionally, he's already moved on.
Can the Spanish women's team actually heal from this?
That depends on whether the federation and UEFA actually commit to player welfare, or whether they just say the right things and move on. Boquete's optimistic, but she's also been burned before. The players have leverage now—they can refuse to play. The question is whether anyone in power takes that seriously.
What was the point of hosting that advisory board meeting?
To show they care about women's soccer. But you can't show you care about women's soccer while simultaneously thanking the man who kissed one without consent. The contradiction is the message.