Sometimes you look at footballers and think they're selfish or

When Juan Mata declared, “Sometimes you look at footballers and think they're selfish or they don't bring a good image to society. But sometimes people underestimate footballers and their capacity to have a strong opinion and sympathy for others,” he was not only defending his brothers of the pitch but also raising a mirror to the heart of mankind. For too often do people judge swiftly, weighing men by fleeting gestures, by wealth, or by rumor, while forgetting that within every man, even the one exalted by fame, beats a heart capable of compassion, sacrifice, and wisdom.

The world sees the footballer as a gladiator of modern times: rich in gold, adorned by the cheers of thousands, living in a world distant from the toil of ordinary mortals. And yet, Mata speaks to a deeper truth: that behind the roar of the stadium, the athlete is still flesh and spirit, still bound by the same chords of empathy and responsibility that tie all humanity together. The judgment of selfishness is easy; the recognition of hidden virtue is hard.

Consider the tale of Marcus Rashford, a youth of Manchester United, who rose not only to score goals but to fight against child hunger in his homeland. When governments faltered and children’s bellies ached, Rashford stood as a voice for the voiceless. Was he merely a footballer? Or was he, in that hour, a statesman, a protector, a shepherd of the weak? His actions shatter the narrow image that athletes are shallow beings chasing glory alone. They reveal that the strength of the body can be joined by the strength of conscience.

Mata himself, through his Common Goal initiative, gave proof that these words are not empty air. He pledged part of his fortune to causes greater than himself, and invited others to do the same. In that act, he called forth a brotherhood of players, uniting wealth and fame with the struggles of the world’s forgotten. This is the true meaning of his cry: that men and women, no matter how high they rise, are still judged rightly not by the size of their treasure, but by the breadth of their sympathy.

My children, take this lesson into your own breast: never underestimate a soul, no matter the mask it wears. Do not assume that the rich are without compassion, nor that the mighty are without conscience. The appearance of selfishness may sometimes conceal a well of kindness waiting to be drawn forth. To dismiss a person as shallow is to blind yourself to the possibility of greatness hidden within.

And what shall you do with this wisdom? Practice the art of seeing deeper. When you behold a neighbor, a colleague, or even a stranger, do not rush to judgment. Ask instead: what unseen burdens do they carry? What hidden fire might they hold, waiting for the chance to warm the world? Encourage them, give them room to show their nobility, and celebrate them when they do.

For the world does not need more cynics who scorn from afar. It needs watchful souls who recognize goodness wherever it appears, even in places the crowd dismisses. Like the crowd that mocked the shepherd boy David before he faced Goliath, people often doubt the unlikely vessel of greatness. Yet it is from the underestimated ones that history often receives its most radiant light.

Therefore, let Mata’s words guide you: judge not by the fleeting image, but by the enduring act; expect not selfishness, but watch for hidden generosity; and never forget that within the heart of every man—even the footballer, even the one the world calls vain—there may dwell a spirit of strength, wisdom, and profound sympathy for others.