When Rodrigo Hernández was a student, living in a hall of residence and reading business at university in Castellón, he was, to use his own words, “the lame one who never did anything”. He might go for dinner, sure, might briefly stop by the bar, but he would never do any of the after-hours stuff. Most of his class couldn’t understand it, until they saw him playing for Villarreal. He was 19, he hadn’t said anything and they didn’t know he was a footballer; now, at 28, he has been voted the best in the world, the first Spanish man to win the Ballon d’Or since Luis Suárez, 64 years ago.
On a dramatic day dominated by cries of injustice, this was in its way an act of justice: to Rodri himself but beyond than that to a kind of player and person, to an idea, a concept; to collectivism embodied by an individual, maybe even football itself. To Spain too, even if it wasn’t received that way at home where Real Madrid’s refusal to fly to Paris when they found out that Vinícius Júnior would not be the winner, set the tone and hung heavy, overshadowing everything. A national success, Rodri joining Aitana Bonmatí, was not really celebrated as one, certainly not with unanimity.
Even in the Théâtre du Châtelet, when George Weah opened the envelope and started to say “The winner is …”, there were shouts of “Vinícius!” There had been some whistles when Rodri arrived. It was all a bit grubby, a little sad, as if he had done something dreadful and not just played football really, really well, but he rose above it, his speech as generous, clear and understated as his play. This was something he wanted to share, and while the Brazilian’s case was strong, victory taken as read, the idea that Rodri did not have one is absurd.
When it comes to influencing the way a team play, conditioning everyone and everything, there is no one like him. Team? Teams. His role, he says, is to “make my team work”, bringing “light”. Which is why they work like no others. Manchester City the Premier League champions who he led to the Champions League last year when, domestically, his case was even stronger. And Spain, winners of Euro 2024, that international trophy tilting the balance this time. Pep Guardiola, his manager at City, called him “the best midfielder in the world, by far”, while Spain manager Luis de la Fuente described him as “the perfect computer”, leading the best European champions there have been.
Enough of the 100 voters – the fact this is a democracy, if a flawed one, is so easily forgotten – agreed. Rodri got up, handed his crutches by Rúben Dias, who he thanked for accompanying him to France. Slowly, he made his way to the stage, where Didier Drogba helped him as he hopped into position. Rodri had always said that this was an award that didn’t bother him but, if that was true, it’s different when you’re standing there holding the trophy. There was a sigh as he looked at it, the emotion clear. “I never thought this day would happen,” he said.
“It’s not a victory for me but for Spanish football,” Rodri said, repeatedly referring to “my country”. He mentioned other players who could, maybe should, have won this and one he said will in the future, all of them Spanish. This was for them. Xavi Hernández, Andrés Iniesta, Iker Casillas and Sergio Busquets. Then Dani Carvajal, who had sustained the same knee injury and who, he said, would have deserved to be on the stage. They had spoken, Rodri revealed after and Carvajal was pleased for him. He also told Lamine Yamal he would up be there one day. “Keep working hard,” he told Barcelona’s 17-year-old.
The message echoed what he had said in Germany, something paternal in it, so very Rodri. Listen to him and you hear it. At times it was tempting during the tournament to see him as the de facto coach of the selección. “I’ve always believed that the role of a midfielder is very important in terms of leadership: conceptually, tactically, what is happening,” he said. “I like that role and it’s the role that a midfielder should have if he wants the team to function.”
He’s always been like that, a natural, although he told a story at Monday’s gala about how one day when he was 17 he was ready to give it all up; he had dedicated his life to football but he felt it disintegrating, his dad convincing him to continue. “It’s true I found it easy to understand [as a kid], to read the game,” he has said. “When a team was successful, I could see why, how they created space: ‘This player’s going to do this, that player will do that.’” He listened too. Ilkay Gündogan recalled how in his first season at City he would stay behind 30, 35 minutes a day, every day. Not to practise but to talk: “He was always discussing, learning, and he perfected his game.”
Above all he perfected everyone else’s. He saw the collective functioning as his job. “If you choose well, the team will do good things,” he said. That might not always be the role that gets seen, although he’s hardly unknown any more and here comes the contradiction: there is a moment in which the fact of being “underrated” becomes a quality for which a player gets rated; in which humility, quietness, “normality”, draws your attention; in which analytical, intelligent and collective discourse aids an individual case – and Rodri speaks very well, a man you want to listen to, someone you find yourself convinced by.
Voting for him almost becomes a cause, a duty to redress the balance, his play reflected back at him: a collective decision that benefits him individually. There is something in Rodri getting the Ballon d’Or that speaks to a shift, a recalibration of priorities where football is not all about goals or stars who seek and occupy the spotlight – although the melodrama around Vinícius’s absence suggests it’s not entirely overcome. Recognising Rodri meant recognising not just a player but a kind of player and his importance, a whole category of footballers, and, belatedly, those men who could and perhaps should have won the Ballon d’Or before, justice for them and for the game itself. “Being here, I give visibility to the midfielder: overshadowed but coming into the light today” Rodri said.
Before the summer’s Euros, Álvaro Morata insisted his teammate would have won the Ballon d’Or already if only he sold himself a bit more; the university student who didn’t tell everyone he was a footballer could do with speaking up a bit. “He could easily have won it last year; all he lacks is marketing, I always tell him that,” Spain’s captain said. “But I don’t play football for that,” Rodri replied. “He sometimes says: ‘Mate, you should …’ but I understand football differently. And I know how it works so I don’t get frustrated. It doesn’t bother me but if one day someone wants to reward the work, that’s welcome.” On Monday night in Paris, they did.
