2025 FIFPRO World XI Revealed As Raphinha’s Wife Slams FIFA Over Snub

Football has a cruel way of forgetting the engine while idolizing the paint job. In the glitz of Zürich and the polished corridors of FIFA’s headquarters, the game often reduces itself to a popularity contest, a parade of marketable silhouettes rather than a meritocracy of sweat and blood. The recent unveiling of the 2025 FIFPRO World XI served as the latest testament to this flaw. The list contained the usual suspects—the titans of marketing and the heavyweights of history. Yet, absent from the roll call was the one man who has arguably defined the 2024/25 season more than any other: Raphael Dias Belloli. Known simply, and now fearfully, as Raphinha.

The exclusion did not go unnoticed. While the player himself maintained a stoic silence, his camp did not. His wife, Natalia Rodrigues, took to social media to voice a frustration that echoed through the streets of Catalonia. Her indignation was not merely spousal loyalty; it was a factual critique of a system that ignores the most electric player in Europe because his name doesn't carry the vintage weight of a decade of dominance. But for Raphinha, this slight is nothing new. It is merely the latest chapter in a biography written in the ink of rejection and resilience.

From Transfer List to Armband

To understand the magnitude of this snub, one must rewind less than twelve months. Raphinha was not the hero of the Camp Nou. He was a depreciating asset. The Catalan press, notorious for its volatility, had practically packed his bags. They whispered of sales to the Premier League or the riches of the Saudi Pro League to balance Barcelona's precarious books. He was the "almost" man—talented, yes, but often sacrificed by Xavi Hernandez in the 60th minute, a tactical pawn rather than a queen.

Most players crumble under that specific weight. The pressure of the number 11 shirt at Barcelona, worn previously by Neymar and Rivaldo, suffocates those who lack iron in their veins. Raphinha did not crumble. He dug his heels into the turf. When Hansi Flick arrived with a system demanding high-line suicide pressing and vertical lethality, Raphinha did not just adapt; he became the system.

"They wanted to sell me. Now I wear the armband. This isn't just football; it's a war for survival."

His transformation this season has been nothing short of mythological. He stopped playing like a winger hugging the chalk and started playing like a total footballer. He drifts centrally, destroys defensive lines with runs in behind, and leads the press with the ferocity of a defensive midfielder. To leave the captain of the current La Liga leaders—a man with hat-tricks against Bayern Munich and Valladolid—out of a World XI suggests the voters were watching highlights from 2022, not the matches of today.

The Anatomy of the Snub

Natalia Rodrigues’ social media outburst struck a nerve because it exposed the inertia of football awards. FIFA’s FIFPRO XI is voted on by the players, yet it often feels like a legacy award. It favors the establishment. Raphinha suffers from a lack of "Galactico" aura. He is not a flashy dribbler in the mold of Vinicius Jr., nor is he a goal-robot like Haaland. He is efficient, brutal, and tireless.

We must analyze the numbers to see the tragedy of the omission.

The table paints a clear picture. Raphinha is doing the work of two players. He creates like a number 10 and defends like a number 6, all while operating as a forward. The voters punished him for his utility. They saw the work ethic and mistook it for a lack of artistry. His wife’s anger stems from this precise misunderstanding. When you live with a man who obsessively critiques his own game, who stays behind to practice free kicks until the floodlights dim, seeing him overlooked for players who have coasted on reputation is a personal affront.

The Fuel for the Fire

History teaches us that the best version of Raphinha emerges when he feels disrespected. Look at his time at Leeds United under Marcelo Bielsa. He was a flair player in a team of grinders, yet he ran more than anyone. He dragged that team through relegation scraps by the scruff of the neck. He thrives in the trenches.

This snub serves as a dangerous catalyst for Barcelona’s opponents. Raphinha now has a tangible grievance. The "chip on the shoulder" is a cliché in sports journalism, but for South American players who fought their way out of the favelas or the hard streets of Porto Alegre, it is a very real psychological weapon. He plays with a vendetta. Every sprint is an accusation; every goal is a rebuttal.

While his wife fights the battle in the court of public opinion, slamming the integrity of the voting process, Raphinha will fight it on the grass. The irony of the situation is that by ignoring him, FIFA may have inadvertently handed Barcelona the key to the Champions League. A contented player protects his status; a scorned player hunts for glory.

Legacy Beyond Trophies

The modern game is obsessed with individual accolades, the Golden Balls and the Best XIs. Bu