“The king stay the king.” – D’Angelo
As surmised here on pegamequemegusta yesterday, the evil powers that be, whoever they are, have won the day yet again. Despite having only referred to “an unpleasant experience” at the club’s training ground and implying that he had the thugs’ undivided attention, Riquelme was threatened with forceful detention lest he present himself to the magistrate to clarify his comments in relation to Boca’s resident hooligan faction, La Doce. Today Riquelme did show up and denied that there was any such intimidation or threats made.
In an interview with trashy C5N, the oily little magistrate himself, Martín Lapadú, gave details on his encounter with a real star: “Mr Riquelme recognised that there had been a meeting on the 11th of April in the vicinity of la Bombonerita [an indoor facility belonging to the club]. The circumstances related exclusively to footballing matters; many people in the car-park, lots of people looking for autographs. When I asked him directly if he had felt intimidated, he stated that he had not. When he was asked if he had felt harassed or frightened, he responded that he had not.”
The magistrate went on to say that Riquelme cooperated fully and noted that Boca’s number 10 was relaxed in his presence. The opportunity to pester more footballers does not look likely to arise unless there are further developments, he related.
So it’s a damp squib, really, but is all the more intriguing for that. Once again, as the headline in Olé says, there’s nothing to see here. Nothing happened. Riquelme, as always, sought to express himself through gestures, refusing to celebrate in front of La Doce. There follows a week of anti-Riquelme articles and he leaves his hidey-hole to speak reservedly about an unpleasant situation. Another week of suspiciously insistent subpoenas forces him into a situation where he can either take on the barra brava of his own club and, by extension, the whole rotten edifice of collusion and cowardly appeasement not only tolerated but occasionally initiated by the clubs and, in turn, their political masters. It would have been nice for him to do so but hardly advisable. After all, this very episode shows that the justice system is hardly impartial in these matters.
Hélas, Juan Román could not be another Jacques Chausson! Another opportunity has been lost and no resolution seems forthcoming. Pegamequemegusta is going to seek solace in 17th century French poetry: