The hostility towards Vinicius is real - and it has names, dates, and court sentences.

He has been insulted in stadiums across Spain. He has testified in trials after a black mannequin wearing his shirt was hung from a bridge.

He has seen fans being sanctioned with suspended sentences for racist abuse in Valencia and Mallorca, largely thanks to LaLiga's efforts to ensure those actions do not remain unpunished within a judicial culture that long treated football's "industrial" language and "banter" with indulgence.

And yet, each time he reacts - pointing to the stands, asking referees to act, refusing to pretend it didn't happen - the same voices reappear: "Yes, they insult him, but he should behave better."

It's as if his protest and his provocation didn't come from the same place. His gestures, his anger, his resistance all emerge from living in a context that demands he smile while being insulted.

To be a black footballer is to play under constant scrutiny in Spain. Every movement becomes evidence in a cultural trial. Every expression is judged through a gaze that demands docility.

Spanish football insists it isn't racist, and maybe that's...