The Vatican is preparing to name a new pope. Naturally, the football world has begun wondering: if the sport had its own holy figurehead, who would wear the white robes?
This is not just a social media joke. Football already borrows from religion. It has faithful followers, sacred chants, and pilgrimage-worthy stadiums. It worships figures—some pure, some proud, some profoundly complex.
So, here are five papal candidates from the football world—no smoke machines required.
The five contenders for the next pope
Zlatan Ibrahimović doesn’t do humility. He once said, “I can’t help but laugh at how perfect I am.” He would not just accept the papacy—he would claim it. His sermons would be in the third person. Every decree would start with, “Zlatan has decided.” The Sistine Chapel might not survive the ego, but the memes would last forever.
Jude Bellingham, by contrast, carries the calm of a saint. His arms-stretched celebration already feels liturgical. A quiet force behind his Real Madrid rise is a sense of predestination. He is not yet 22, but his presence has weight. To his generation, he may already be canonized.
Lionel Messi could skip the vote entirely. For many, he’s divine already. He never needed a crown or confession. His legacy is built on joy, humility, and a left foot that never preached, only performed. His most radical trait might be how little he asked for worship, even as the world offered it anyway.
Cristiano Ronaldo represents power. He has built his image on discipline, command, and relentless self-belief. His brand is not grace; it is force. He is the kind of Pope who would raise standards rather than spirits. Still, he’d bring order—and maybe a six-pack statue in Vatican Square.
Then there is José Mourinho. He once said, “Please don’t call me arrogant, but I’m European champion and I think I’m a special one.” If you’re looking for papal energy, that’s it. Mourinho has the aura, the conviction, and the following. His reign would be theatrical, strategic, and punctuated by quotes that would confuse even the most seasoned theologians.
None of this is serious, of course. But in a world where footballers often inspire more devotion than politicians or priests, it’s worth asking—what does it say about the game that we see its stars as saints?
Maybe that’s the sermon.
