The Haaland claim has turned Real Madrid’s presidential race from a club election into a transfer soap opera with lawyers potentially waiting in the credits. Manchester City are considering legal action after Enrique Riquelme, a candidate for the Madrid presidency, said he would sign Erling Haaland if he wins the vote on June 7.
Riquelme made the pledge during an appearance on the Spanish television programme El Hormiguero, where he said Haaland wanted to move to the Santiago Bernabéu. He also reportedly showed a Real Madrid shirt carrying the striker’s name and the No. 9, because subtlety has rarely been the preferred language of football elections.
City responded quickly and firmly. The Premier League club rejected reports from Spain about Haaland’s future, said there was “no chance” of the transfer happening, and denied that any contractual mechanism exists to make such a move possible. The club also confirmed it is considering legal action over the use of Haaland’s image in that setting.
Why Manchester City are pushing back so hard
City’s concern is not just that another club’s election hopeful mentioned their star striker. Transfer rumours are football’s daily weather system, usually cloudy with a chance of nonsense.
This one is more specific. Riquelme did not simply say he admired Haaland or hoped to sign him one day. He presented the striker as a central piece of his sporting project and, according to Spanish agency EFE, claimed Haaland had a clause that would allow him to join Real Madrid.
City dispute that. Their public position is that no such route exists. Haaland signed a new 10-year contract with Manchester City in January 2025, tying him to the Etihad Stadium until the summer of 2034. At the time, City framed the deal as a long-term commitment from one of the world’s most productive forwards and a cornerstone of the club’s future planning.
That contract matters. So does the use of Haaland’s name and image. For City, he is not only the leading figure in their attack but also one of their most valuable commercial assets. Presenting him as an electoral promise for a rival club is, from Manchester’s point of view, not harmless campaign theatre.
What Riquelme promised Madrid voters
Riquelme is challenging Florentino Pérez, the long-serving Real Madrid president, in what has become the club’s first contested presidential election since 2006. His candidacy was formally approved by Real Madrid’s Electoral Board after he met the club’s requirements, setting up a rare vote among members after years in which Pérez had run unopposed.
To stand out against an incumbent with deep institutional power, Riquelme has reached for the most familiar Real Madrid campaign language: elite signings, large ambition, and the suggestion that impossible deals may not be impossible after all.
According to EFE, Riquelme said Haaland would be one of the flagship additions of his project. He also said he had signed a personal notarial guarantee linked to his campaign promises, including possible moves for Haaland and Manchester City midfielder Rodri.
That last detail is not small. In Spain, it gave the pledge a more formal tone than the usual “we like great players” campaign line. It also made City’s reaction more predictable. Clubs tend to tolerate speculation. They tend to like it less when contracted players are turned into campaign assets with paperwork attached.
Why this echoes the Figo election playbook
Spanish coverage has drawn an obvious comparison: Florentino Pérez’s 2000 presidential campaign, when he promised to sign Luís Figo from Barcelona. That move became one of the most famous transfer and election gambits in football history, helping Pérez win power and reshaping Real Madrid’s modern identity around superstar recruitment.
Riquelme’s Haaland pledge appears designed to tap into that memory. The idea is simple enough: present voters with a transformative signing, make the race feel larger than governance, and put the challenger at the centre of a spectacle.
There is one complication, and it is a fairly large one. Manchester City are not Barcelona in 2000, Haaland is under contract until 2034, and City say there is no clause that would let Madrid unlock the deal. The English champions are treating the episode less like a romantic transfer chase and more like an unauthorized use of a player’s profile in another club’s internal politics.
That difference matters because modern football stars operate as sporting, commercial, and media properties all at once. A player’s image is not just a photograph on a shirt. It is a rights issue, a brand issue, and, apparently, now an election issue.
Haaland’s camp distances itself from the story
Haaland’s representatives have also moved to cool the idea that any agreement is in place. His father, Alfie Haaland, and agent Rafaela Pimenta dismissed suggestions of a deal with Riquelme’s campaign, describing the story as entertaining but untrue and wishing both candidates well in the Real Madrid election.
That response was polite, but it left little room for interpretation. Haaland’s side is not endorsing the claim, City are rejecting the claim, and the player remains tied to one of the longest and most significant contracts in elite football.
The practical likelihood of Haaland leaving Manchester City in the near future therefore remains remote, based on every public position currently available. That does not mean the story is meaningless. It means the real issue may not be a transfer at all.
Instead, this is about the limits of campaign promises in football, especially when those promises involve players contracted elsewhere. It is also about how quickly a dramatic line on television can become a legal and political problem for clubs operating at the top of the sport.
What happens next in Madrid and Manchester
The timing gives the dispute extra weight. Real Madrid’s election is scheduled for June 7, leaving little room for the controversy to fade before members vote. Riquelme has tried to cast himself as a disruptive alternative who can deliver major talent. Pérez’s long tenure, by contrast, rests on institutional stability, commercial growth, and his own history of marquee signings.
The Haaland episode has now ensured the final stretch of the campaign is not only about Real Madrid’s internal direction. It is also about Manchester City’s willingness to defend its contractual and commercial position in public.
City may still decide not to file a formal legal complaint. For now, the club’s warning functions as a forceful rebuttal: Haaland is not available, no clause exists according to City, and his image is not there to decorate another club’s election pitch.
The transfer rumour machine will survive, as it always does. But this one has run into a hard boundary. In Manchester, the message is clear enough: Haaland’s future is not campaign material in Madrid.
