There is a very particular kind of justice that only soccer delivers. Not the slow, grinding kind you get from lawyers and tribunals. But the kind where a man scores a jaw-dropping goal, gets abused for celebrating it, and then comes back eight days later to score again and knock you clean out of the Champions League. That, in the most beautifully uncomplicated terms possible, is what Vinícius Jr. did to Benfica. It seems the universe, for once, was paying attention.
The Incident
Let us go back to the Estádio da Luz on February 17th. Vinícius had just curled in a shot into the top corner and celebrated a vigorous salsa with the corner flag. On his way back to the restart, Benfica’s Gianluca Prestianni apparently felt the need to say something to the Brazilian while carefully concealing his mouth with his shirt. Vini visibly reacted, then accused the Argentinian of racial abuse to the referee.
The match was halted for 10 minutes while FIFA’s anti-racism protocol, a three-step procedure introduced in May 2024, was activated. Prestianni, for his part, maintained he had said nothing untoward. Benfica backed their player. The club posted footage of the incident on social media with the comment that, given the distance, the Real Madrid players could not have heard what they claimed to have heard. This is an interesting defense, one must admit, essentially arguing that racism is fine provided the victim is standing far enough away.
The Fallout
José Mourinho, a man who has never met a controversy he couldn’t make worse, offered his own thoughtful contribution. The Benfica boss said Vinícius had incited his players and fans by the way he celebrated. In his post-match interview he said: “when you score a goal like that, you should celebrate in a respectful way.”
To quote Dr. Evil: “Riiiggghht”.
Mourinho also felt compelled to inform Vinícius (and the world) that the greatest player in Benfica’s history, Eusébio, was Black. I’m not sure a history lesson delivered at the edge of a dugout, in the middle of an alleged racial incident, was precisely the pastoral support the situation required.
Mourinho had been sent off during the game after being shown two yellow cards for dissent, meaning he would be unavailable for the second leg. A small mercy, perhaps. His presence in the technical area had already contributed enough to the evening’s rich tapestry of poor decisions.
Meanwhile the soccer world waited. UEFA provisionally suspended Prestianni for one match; he would miss the second leg at the Bernabéu. Benfica appealed the suspension, while admitting that “the timelines in question mean it’s unlikely to have any practical effect on the second leg.” This is a legal strategy so optimistic it deserves its own TED Talk.
The Second Leg
Earlier today, February 25. Benfica travel to the Santiago Bernabéu without their manager, without Prestianni, and needing to overturn a one-goal deficit. The soccer gods, never known for their subtlety, had set the stage with all the restraint of a Broadway musical.
Benfica actually had the audacity to score first, with Rafa Silva finding the net in the 14th minute, momentarily leveling the aggregate. However, the visitors’ joy was short-lived. Just two minutes later, Aurélien Tchouaméni unleashed a sensational strike to restore Real Madrid’s advantage.
One can only imagine the mood in the Benfica dressing room at halftime: having come all this way, having endured the chaos of Lisbon, having appealed bans and issued statements and briefed lawyers… and then conceding within 120 seconds of taking the lead.
And then there was Vinícius
In the second half, as Benfica threw everything forward, Real Madrid capitalised on the resulting gaps, with Vinícius Jr. sealing the tie.The same man who had been abused, yellow-carded for celebrating, then gaslighted by the opposition, he was the one who finished Benfica off.
He didn’t need to say a word. The goal said everything.
Vinícius had written on Instagram after the first leg: “Racists are, above all, cowards.” He was right, of course. But he also proved something else: that cowards, in addition to being weak, are frequently also knocked out of European competition in the Round of 16 playoffs.
Somewhere, Prestianni watched from a hotel room or a stadium seat, suspended,silent, his shirt firmly away from his face. Mourinho watched from wherever suspended managers watch soccer, presumably somewhere with decent Wi-Fi and a strong opinion about corner flag celebrations.
And Vinícius Jr. danced. Because he scored, and because he can, and because nobody on earth was going to stop him.
