Spain’s ex-football federation bigwig, Luis Rubiales, has officially been crowned Guilty McGuiltyface of sexual assault after deciding that an uninvited smooch on Jenni Hermoso was somehow a good idea—spoiler alert: it wasn’t.
Spain’s High Court slapped him with a €10,800 (£8,942) fine, which is roughly the cost of one hundred tapas nights gone horribly wrong.
Ouch! Looks like someone’s budget for croquetas just took a nosedive.
But wait, there’s more! In a twist so dramatic it could rival any telenovela (minus the catchy theme song), Rubiales managed to dodge the “coercion” bullet. Yep, he got a big fat “not guilty” high-five for allegedly trying to convince Hermoso to shout from the rooftops, “Oh yeah, I totally asked for that kiss!”
Clearly, his Jedi mind tricks need some serious polishing because even Yoda wouldn’t have fallen for that one.
And let’s not forget the scene itself: as Spain’s champs were busy basking in their shiny World Cup glory after schooling England in Sydney, Rubiales decided to channel his inner rogue seagull. He swooped in, grabbed Hermoso by the head like she was part of a low-budget rom-com, and planted a surprise kiss on her lips.
Because apparently, nothing screams “congratulations” quite like an unsolicited smacker during what should’ve been her moment of triumph. Maybe next time he’ll bring confetti instead?
The stunt sparked a wildfire of protests and a rousing chorus of “Rubiales, pack your bags!” from people who definitely didn’t RSVP to his one-man lip-service party. It was less romantic gesture and more awkward office holiday party moment—minus the mistletoe, plus the public outrage.
The court wasn’t messing around either; they slapped Rubiales with a restraining order so strict it might as well come with laser beams.
He’s now banned from entering a 200-meter radius around Hermoso—close enough to shout “I’m sorry!” but far enough to avoid her legendary death glare, which we assume could curdle milk at fifty paces.
And just to really drive the point home, he’s forbidden from sending her anything for an entire year—not even a carrier pigeon bearing a hastily scribbled apology note. According to the very serious court statement, this is non-negotiable. No pigeons. No smoke signals. Not even interpretive dance apologies.
Meanwhile, prosecutors were practically rolling out the red carpet for Rubiales to trade his tailored suit for an orange jumpsuit, à la prison fashion week.
But last week, in true dramatic fashion, he strutted into court like he’d just won the lottery instead of being sued. Chest puffed out like a peacock on steroids, he declared he was “absolutely, 100%, pinky-swear sure” that Hermoso had RSVP’d “yes” to his impromptu smoochfest.
One can only imagine her filling out the invisible invitation: “Dear Luis, I would LOVE to be kissed without warning during a global sports event. XOXO, Jenni.”
And then came the pièce de résistance: Rubiales called the kiss a “tender love tap from the heart,” because nothing screams romance like comparing yourself to a clumsy Labrador. He insisted it was “totally spur-of-the-moment, like when you see a puppy and just can’t help but boop its nose.”
Ah yes, spontaneous affection—exactly what every professional athlete wants while collecting her hard-earned World Cup medal. Truly, poetry in motion. Your honor, meet Exhibit A: The Man Who Thought Booping Was Bonding.
In her testimony this month, Hermoso didn’t hold back—she threw down the gauntlet so hard it might as well have been a medieval jousting match. Swearing up and down that she never gave Rubiales the green light for his lip ambush, she lamented how the moment “splattered mud all over what should’ve been the glitter-dusted happiest day of my life.”
Translation? Thanks for turning my fairy-tale ending into a dumpster fire, buddy. Who needs confetti when you’ve got unsolicited smooches and public drama?
Meanwhile, Rubiales wasn’t just handed a sexual assault charge—he was also accused of attempting a coercion caper straight out of a low-budget spy movie. Allegedly, he tried to twist Hermoso’s arm into slapping a big ol’ “consensual” sticker on his rogue kiss.
It’s like he was some sketchy used-car salesman trying to convince her that his busted jalopy of a smooch was actually a luxury sedan. Spoiler alert: nobody bought it.
And let’s not forget where this cringe-fest went down: live, in front of millions of gawking TV viewers and a stadium packed with fans who probably thought they were there to celebrate Spain’s women winning the 2023 World Cup—not witnessing a real-life soap opera unfold before their eyes.
Talk about stealing the spotlight with all the grace of a bull in a china shop! Instead of basking in their glory, the Spanish team had to share their big moment with a man whose idea of celebration involved turning an international sporting event into The Jerry Springer Show. Truly, a masterclass in awkwardness.
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