Atlético fans, Real's president are convinced people out to get them

By Sid Lowe, Special to SI.com, World Soccer

As Real Madrid continues to struggle, fingers are being directed Ramon Calderón's way as the club president is heavily scrutinized. Denis Doyle/Getty Images

These are difficult days for the Calderóns -- Ramón, the Real Madrid president, and Vicente, the Atlético Madrid stadium -- as both are forced to defend their honor in the face of what they deem to be "conspiracies" against them.

The Vicente Calderón was accused by UEFA of racist abuse, poor security, heavy-handed policing and organizational failures during Atlético's first home Champions League game in more than a decade, against Olympique Marseille, and was closed down for two games. Atlético fans showed their distaste by whistling the Champions League anthem when Liverpool, with the ban temporarily suspended, came to Madrid.

Atlético was especially angered by the accusation that there had been racist chanting from their fans. Only one Marseille player, Nigerian fullback Taye Taiwo, was abused and it wasn't clear if the noise directed his way was anything more sinister than booing after he clattered into Sergio "El Kun" Agüero. Some ventured that guttural, almost simian chants of "Kun! Kun! Kun!" may also have led to confusion.

They were backed by the rest of the country, with other supporters rallying to the Rojiblanco cause, presidents offering up their stadiums in a gesture of solidarity and even the interior minister intervening. Fanciful talk of a French conspiracy occupied forums and airwaves.

Even when the Liverpool match became a model of good behavior with fans swapping scarves, shirts and even sandwiches, even when the ban was reduced to one game, the simmering resentment didn't disappear. And when Liverpool was awarded a last-minute penalty to equalize in the return at Anfield, the media presented it as "another robbery from [UEFA president Michel] Platini." One Atlético player commented: "It seems that they don't want us in the next phase."

But if Atlético felt hard done by, with its image sullied by accusations they considered baseless, the allegations directed Ramon Calderón's way were even more damaging.

Calderón could laugh off suggestions from Alex Ferguson that the club he leads is (or was) "Franco's club." He described the Manchester United manager of going "senile," insisting that he is "too old" to be successful any more and simply "jealous" of Madrid's European Cups. The club's most emblematic player, honorary president Alfredo di Stéfano, meanwhile gave the accusations equally short shrift. "Franco?" he asked. "Wasn't he a left-sided midfielder at Deportivo La Coruña?"

The media rallied round, with the sports daily Marca recalling some of the Scot's more controversial moments, claiming: "Ferguson has no right to give lessons in gentlemanliness to anyone." A front cover even showed a succession of photographs in which Ferguson morphed into Franco. Here was a real dictator, they claimed, and they took to calling the United boss Franquito -- little Franco.

Although Calderón could count on the help of the media in his battle with Ferguson, the same could not be said of the other allegations directed his way. The radio station Cadena Cope and the newspaper El Mundo had accused him of using the club's credit card for his own purchases -- drinks in a cocktail bar, a spa treatment, even a trip to the vet with his sick dog. Meanwhile, the newspaper El Negocio alleged that he had failed to pay tax in each of the last four years.

The seriousness of the allegations was reflected in the fact that Calderón appeared before the media on a Thursday evening, just an hour before Real was due to kick off at Second Division B side Real Unión de Irún in the Copa del Rey -- a match Madrid would lose 3-2. It could also be seen in the fact that he was flanked, unusually, by director general José Ángel Sánchez and economic director Julio Esquerdeiro, and that sporting director Pedja Mijatovic and various members of the board also attended.

A group of mafiosos

Calderón insisted the credit card in question was his daughter's and had no connection with the club whatsoever. He also produced his tax-return forms. "I've spoken to some tax inspectors and they've looked at the documents and told me that someone has done a cut-and-paste job," he insisted. "A group of mafiosos is behind this."

Asked if by "group of mafiosos" he meant the former president Florentino Pérez, clearly maneuvering for a return to the Estadio Bernabéu, he replied: "You can draw your own conclusions." A day later, Calderón announced he was being followed. He had already claimed that his Bernabéu office was bugged and vital information was being passed on to Pérez by those who once worked under him and remain at the club.

Just because Calderón is paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get him. The problem he has is that many fans have come to the conclusion that however minor, tendentious or indeed downright false the accusations -- and most of those put forward by Cadena Cope and El Mundo over the last two years of what has been a genuine campaign against the Madrid president have been far from convincing and certainly not truly damning -- there's no smoke without fire. Few have followed Calderón's lead in questioning what exactly his accusers' agenda is or who lies behind it. Instead, what counts is the sheer weight of suspicion surrounding the club.

Despite winning two league titles in two seasons, the broken promises over bringing in Kaká, Cesc Fàbregas and Cristiano Ronaldo have left Calderón's credibility dented, as has his tendency to put his foot in his mouth. He isn't helped by Bernd Schuster's prickliness or Sergio Ramos' outbursts, either, and he doesn't even have a steadfast mandate to preside over the club after winning elections in which a judge refused to allow postal votes to count, meaning that he won with just more than 8,000 votes from a total electorate of over 80,000.

The suspicion surrounding the elections sticks, however unfairly. The bottom line is the fans simply don't trust him. And, with presidential elections coming up next summer, sections of the media against him, accusations flying and fewer players arriving than he promises, Madrid appears just a handful of bad results away from a crisis.

Calderón's grasp on the presidency, it seems, gets more precarious by the day.

This article originally appeared in the December 2008 issue of World Soccer magazine. To subscribe, click here.