In October 2024, during a Supreme Court session, a brief exchange between justices Gilmar Mendes and André Mendonça hinted that seating them together at dinner that night might be a bad idea. This impression wasn’t due to what was said—since both often resorted to impenetrable legalese—but rather their tones (bordering on harshness) and sarcasm in contrast with their half-smiles. It was clear the topic was the Brazilian Football Confederation (CBF), constantly tormented by its leaders and associates’ behavior.
“Your Excellency has more experience with extravagances than I do,” remarked the Supreme Court’s senior member.
“Rest assured, Justice Gilmar, I do not,” Mendonça retorted. “You can be sure I do not, for when I stumbled upon these facts… it made wonder: could the CBF withstand an investigation?”
The sparring ceased there. On the other hand, the string of “extravagances”—a term justices use for questionable acts or decisions—continued to escalate in frequency and audacity. The latest, again orchestrated by Gilmar, was ignoring the suspension ordered by the Rio de Janeiro Court of Justice and keeping Ednaldo Rodrigues as the CBF president.
(Before the struggle for power within the CBF provided reason for the “Robe Team” to enter the “field,” the “supreme” justices had only intervened once in the sport since the Court’s founding—and it was a dismal performance. Charged with deciding the rightful champion of the 1987 Brazilian football championship, claimed by Flamengo and Sport, it took the “Exalted Tribunal” 37 years to conclude the case. “The Second Panel unanimously ruled in favor of Sport,” announced Justice Dias Toffoli in May 2024. Sport fans rejoiced again, as they had decades earlier. Every Flamengo supporter, however, dismissed the ruling.)
From the outset, most of the sports officials from the self-proclaimed Nation of Football were less than stellar. But the dismal style of leadership inaugurated under Ricardo Teixeira’s name deserves to headline the most despicable parade of scoundrels, led by the ever-unsteady Ednaldo Rodrigues. When the first word of this article was written, he was the CBF president. By the second paragraph, he had lost his position. By the sixth, Fernando Sarney, one of his vice-presidents, replaced him. Around the tenth, he was filing an appeal with the Supreme Court to reclaim his “throne.” Currently, while praying for Gilmar to judge his claim, he waits for a call from Carlo Ancelotti to assure the baffled Italian coach that the contract signed a couple of hours earlier will be even more attractive once the minor issue caused by misinformed Rio judges is resolved.
Ednaldo is the latest specimen from the cesspool inaugurated by Ricardo Teixeira. In office from 1989 to 2012, Teixeira plunged the entity into a convenient limbo between public and private domains. By regulation, national organizations’ leaders follow FIFA rules. This sense of impunity explains why CBF presidents act like brazenly impudent outlaws. Teixeira’s overconfidence ultimately led to scandals forcing him to end his long reign.
All his successors, entangled in bribery, illicit gain, money laundering, and dubious dealings, faced legal challenges both in Brazil and abroad. This was the fate of José Maria Marin, arrested in Switzerland in 2015 and jailed in the United States. Marco Polo Del Nero, CBF’s head from 2015 to 2017, faced corruption charges and a FIFA ban. Rogério Caboclo (2019-2021) was ousted due to allegations of moral and sexual harassment. It was then Ednaldo’s turn. Being the eldest vice-president, he ascended and pulled all stops to appear more ingenious and modern than his predecessors.
Supreme Court Justice Gilmar Mendes also saw fit to modernize the Brazilian Institute of Public Law, or IDP. Founded in 1998, it should have been restricted to law students from various fields. Until 2016, it was funded by major companies like J&F and state entities such as Caixa Econômica Federal. In June 2017, Gilmar handed it over to his son Francisco Mendes, known as Chico. While keeping an eye on lucrative international seminars and events like “Gilmarpalooza,” Chico pursued partners to expand IDP’s branches and ventures to boost revenue. Thus, the CBF Academy—a CBF education arm operated by IDP—came about, managing and commercializing services from the partnership. One clause states IDP retains 84% of revenue, CBF 16%. In 2023, earnings reached R$9.2 million.
Attuned to the electorate, Ednaldo increased monthly payments to state federations from R$50,000 to R$215,000, gave out donations, plane tickets, and top-tier hotel stays, and offered special guests lavish hospitality at the Qatar World Cup. After completing the deposed leader’s term, he secured office with 100% support. Twice attempts were made to depose him; twice Gilmar reinstated him in his grand office.
Ednaldo paid R$5.7 million upfront to a lawyer in Maranhão to secure a type of injunction within a day—a process that usually takes courts at least 55 days to examine. In December 2023, the Rio de Janeiro Court of Justice removed him. In January, Gilmar reinstated him. Other moves against the “super-official” encountered the same barrier. In the latest, André Mendonça was supposed to be the rapporteur. Supreme Court President Luís Roberto Barroso opted for a draw. Gilmar won, of course.
An agreement between CBF and complainants in the Rio de Janeiro Court of Justice, ratified by Gilmar in March 2025, allowed Ednaldo to run in an election meant to keep him in charge until 2030. This cunning plan faltered upon evidence of a falsified signature required for the vote, rendering the agreement invalid. What will the senior justice do? In 1984, Brazil went to sleep with Tancredo Neves ready for inauguration and awoke with José Sarney wearing the presidential sash. “It’s the tunnel at the end of the light,” summed up Millôr Fernandes. If Ancelotti doesn’t back out of the deal, he’ll have to swap one Ednaldo for another Sarney. Improvement is unlikely.
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