While Jorge Vilda’s reshaped squad has marched to a first World Cup final, those on the other side of the split have delivered a deafening message: this team do not play for me
Patri Guijarro has been holidaying in Majorca, posting pictures of surfboards and palm trees and stalactites. Laia Aleixandri went to Egypt to see the pyramids. Sandra Paños has been going on countryside walks with her dog. Lucía García has been exploring the streets of Manchester. Lola Gallardo went to a music festival. Ainhoa Moraza got her hair done. Leila Ouahabi feasted on a giant plate of mussels and prawns.
The various and lavishly tended Instagram accounts of Spain’s rebel faction are in many ways a portal into a parallel universe. An alternative summer in which these international footballers are not playing international football, not braving the winds of Wellington, not encroaching on a World Cup final, perhaps not even watching the World Cup final. There are no patriotic posts, no good-luck messages or congratulations for their former teammates. And in these quiet elisions lie a deafening message: this team may claim to play for a country of 47 million people, but they do not play for me.
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