No Fenomeno At Valladolid
Ronaldo's Real Valladolid dream has turned into a nightmare.
This is a guest article by Chirag Sharatkumar. Subscribe to Sideline Stories.
It ought to have been better than this. Or so Real Valladolid fans thought when Ronaldo Nazario arrived over six years ago, grinning for the cameras, relishing his new role as owner and president. That’s what they believed when he promised to turn their modest club into a steady LaLiga presence. And that — the hope and disappointment — is what they hold on to today.
“Where is the president, the president, where is he?” sang the Valladolid fans on Sunday to a packed Estadio Jose Zorrilla as they hosted Real Madrid in what would go on to be their 14th loss of the season. Their question was valid and its answer simple: not there. And if he wasn’t to be there for Real Madrid, he wouldn’t be there for anyone, really.
This is not said often. In fact, these words may never truly have been uttered in this order, but it has become the prevailing opinion in Valladolid: Ronaldo is, err, not very good at football. Not as a player, God no. That would be sacrilegious. On the pitch, he was a phenomenon, a force of nature who redefined not only what it meant to be a striker, but what it meant to be a footballer. On pure talent, perhaps the world has never seen a player as gifted as him. Perhaps it never will. But as an administrator, a leader, and a president, he has done little to refute these claims.
There was a palpable buzz when the Brazilian bought a controlling stake in Valladolid in September 2018. Back then, he spoke with conviction about the central goal of consolidating Valladolid as a Primera regular, proving that they could make the top-flight their home. His long-term goal at the time was to announce himself as an owner who “can do football better.”
Ronaldo promised serious investment in the club to develop the academy to boost local talent and sign quality players to improve the squad. Within his first few months, he had already tripled the number of scouts employed by the club. There were whispers of something serious happening, of a future where Valladolid wouldn’t just survive but thrive.
But they were just that: whispers. The talk was sweet, but it didn’t last.
Valladolid enjoyed two positive seasons post-purchase, avoiding relegation in both 2019 and 2020, finishing 16th and 13th, respectively. But then the descent began — relegation in 2021, promotion in 2022, relegation again in 2023, and promotion once again in 2024.
In the process, Valladolid had slowly become a yo-yo club and a pattern had formed. Too bad for Primera but too good for Segunda, so back and forth they went, like a ball endlessly kicked up and down a dusty street.
This season, with just 15 points from 21 matches, Valladolid sit dead last. They have scored the fewest goals so far in LaLiga and conceded the most. They are almost guaranteed to face the drop to Segunda as another chapter in a story that’s starting to feel depressingly familiar begins to write itself.
In the midst of this oscillation, Valladolid fans’ belief wears thinner every day. Promises of investment have gone unfulfilled and Ronaldo has hardly “done football better” in these six years. The grand plans for a grassroots revamp at the academy remain just plans. Key players have been sold because of the constant relegation-promotion; the money earned rarely reinvested, such as with the transfer of Cyle Larin to Mallorca in 2023 for a reported €8 million.
And Ronaldo, in all of this, is elsewhere. Reports of him playing tennis during a Valladolid match last November sparked outrage amongst the fans, who responded with a bizarre but comical giant tennis match in the stands at the Jose Zorrilla, complete with banners reading “Game, Set, Match” and “Ronaldo Go Home.”
It was funny, but it wasn’t a joke. Beneath the laughter was something raw, something painful, a sense of neglect that fills the stands with every fan.
Football, at the end of the day, is about connection. It’s about belief, loyalty, and the idea that it all matters — that your club, your town, your people, are worth something. In the case of private ownership, even more so. Valladolid fans wanted to believe Ronaldo shared that feeling, that he would be there for them, not just as a suit, but as a leader. But as time has passed, it has become clear that his heart and mind lie elsewhere.
Last year, Ronaldo sold his stake in Brazilian club Cruzeiro and indicated that Valladolid “would be next,” bringing up a sense of relief among many now-disillusioned Valladolid fans. He announced that the sales would happen in due time for him to begin his campaign to become president of the Confederation of Brazilian Football (CBF).
For Valladolid fans, there was hope that perhaps a new owner might come in, someone who cared, someone who tried. He has since reneged on this decision, choosing instead to remain involved for the time being. Except he isn’t really.
The question then that many Valladolid fans are asking now, as they did six years ago is: why? Ronaldo, even at the peak of his powers, never seemed like a man bothered with the drudgery of football administration. He was one of the great representations of Brazil’s jogo bonito philosophy; someone who played the game with a sense of joy and brilliance that is hard to come by today. The seriousness of football, whether from coaches, teammates, or fans, never seemed to resonate with O Fenomeno then.
It is a curious question now with a notably simple answer. Running Valladolid, it seems, was never about Valladolid for Ronaldo. It was undeniably about padding his resume, beefing up his CV with experience, manufacturing credentials, and creating legitimacy in his capabilities as president. Something to wave around, to prove his worth when he campaigns to replace Ednaldo Rodrigues the the CBF. Valladolid, in this light, becomes less a project and more a prop, a stepping stone to something ostensibly grander.
The only problem is that at administration-level, Valladolid isn’t a stepping stone. It’s a football club with history, with pride, with fans who care deeply and who now deserve better.
La Liga is no stranger to peculiar presidents, be it the Neville-brothers-appointing comic-book villain that is Valencia owner Peter Lim; Rayo Vallecano president Raul Martin Presa, who once hilariously compared James Rodriguez joining Rayo to Diego Maradona joining Napoli; Jose Maria Del Nido Benavente and his son, Jose Maria Del Nido Carrasco, who recently publicly fought each other for ownership of Sevilla; Florentino Perez, Real Madrid’s disappointed dictator who, while excellent in his stewardship of the club, was still once hell-bent on ruining football with the Super League; or Joan ‘Moneybags’ Laporta, who consistently spends money Barcelona don’t have on players they don’t need.
By comparison, perhaps Ronaldo isn’t so bad. But that doesn’t make him good.
And that’s the thing. Valladolid don’t need the worst or the best. They just need someone who cares. Someone who shows up, who understands that this club isn’t just a line on a CV but a living, breathing entity with people who love it.
Ronaldo, driven by the same passion that defined his playing career, is now firmly turning his attention to Brazil. With a goal much like his early Valladolid objective to “do football better,” he is armed with a purpose for Brazil too: “to recover the prestige and respect that the national team has always had.”
But as he chases that dream, Valladolid fans are left to wonder what will happen to their club. It’s hard for them not to feel a sense of disregard, as if they were brought in as treasure only to be treated as trash. The questions loom large: will he sell? Will he stay? Will he ever care enough to make a difference? Right now, though, perhaps the biggest problem for Valladolid is that every question asked seems to remain painfully unanswered.