About the author
Costa Rican goalkeeper Bryan Cordero, 31, recounts his experience of activating FIFPRO’s Red Button app after being pressured by his club, Asociacion Deportiva Municipal Turrialba, to fix a match.

By Bryan Cordero

"Put your principles aside."

That’s exactly what my team’s coach said when he asked me and my team-mates to throw a Costa Rican league match by two or three goals in exchange for $300 each.

"To pay off all the club’s debts. There are contracts to honour. Help me out," he added, using that as bait.

My situation at Asociacion Deportiva Municipal Turrialba in February 2025 wasn’t the best: I was selling food at the club just to cover the cost of travelling to training and back home. I had to sell food because they were so far behind with my wages. Sometimes months would go by without me receiving my pay.

But as captain, I was never going to allow myself to be part of a match-fixing scheme.

"No way," I replied. "The values I’ve been taught in football have always been to enjoy it, love it and respect it."

Enrique Valencia was not only the manager but also the investor who owned the club alongside Ernesto de la Torre. Two young players, also Mexicans, arrived with them, and the day before the match they spoke to two of my team-mates. After that conversation, both warned me about the reason for that talk: the next day we had to lose.

Everything was normal until a few hours before the match, when, in the afternoon, I received a message asking me to attend a meeting where some of my team-mates, De la Torre, Valencia and Jose Rolando Pereira – the club president – would be present. I couldn’t make it because I lived too far away, but I found out what was happening through the messages sent to me by two of my team-mates.

They were let into the meeting in groups of four. They were offered $300 to lose. They were told they had to play well in the first half and lose the second half by a score of two-nil or three-nil. When they refused, the investors threatened not to play them. The club president told them they were counting on them to be able to pay off the debts.

Bryan Cordero PG

Bryan Cordero Costa Rica Profile
Bryan Cordero
Bryan Cordero Costa Rica 2
Bryan Cordero in action
Bryan Cordero Costa Rica 5
Bryan Cordero with his family
Bryan Cordero Costa Rica 4
Bryan Cordero with Lankester AF

As always, I was the first to arrive at the stadium. Little by little, my team-mates started turning up. First came those who hadn’t been at the meeting. I told them what was going on because, as captain, I couldn’t let it happen. They were terrified at the thought of having to go through that.

Half an hour before kick-off, the rest arrived – the ones who had actually been at the meeting. And they spoke out loud about the demand they’d received to lose. Many refused; they were all told they wouldn’t be playing.

I gathered them all in a separate dressing room and told them I wasn’t going to play, that I couldn’t go along with that situation. They agreed with me. That’s when Valencia called me aside to tell me to put my principles aside. As I refused, he started attacking me, saying that I was involved in match-fixing along with two team-mates. I demanded my severance pay right then and there.

Less than 10 minutes before kick-off, I gathered my team-mates again. "Look lads, I’ll play this match, but we’re going out there to win."

Another experienced team-mate joined in and we all stood together. We decided to go out and play the match, but with enough determination to try and win it.

We went out with five minutes to spare; we hadn’t even warmed up properly. You could see it on many of my team-mates’ faces that they were scared, but I tried to encourage them. After about five minutes, one of my team-mates committed a penalty foul and a lot of things came to mind. I started to wonder if any of them had actually agreed out of fear. When we returned to the dressing room at half-time, trailing 1-0, I reminded my team-mates to hold their heads high and not to be afraid.

The Mexican manager wanted to make changes and bring on players who wouldn’t be playing in their usual positions. He wanted to move a left-back to the right. He wanted to switch another player, who was a winger, to a position he’d never played before. I intervened and the changes weren’t made. My team-mates themselves didn’t want to go out onto the pitch like that.

When we equalised in the second half with a header, we all went out to celebrate together. We managed to put in an extraordinary performance despite that situation and, to be honest, as captain, guiding my team-mates in that context gave me a real sense of fulfilment. There were tears of emotion in that dressing room.

The next day I received a message from the president’s right-hand man. He told me not to turn up for training because I was no longer part of the team. My team-mate, who was just as experienced as I was, was told the same thing.

That was when I got in touch with Steven Bryce, executive director of ASOJUPRO, the Costa Rican Professional Players’ Association. And thanks to him, I learnt of the existence of a tool to report this sort of situation and protect our names, our careers, our reputations: the Red Button app.

Steven explained to us in detail how the process worked to activate it, and that it was anonymous. He also warned us that, when we returned to action, many people – those who were unhappy with the good deed we had done – could attack us.

But we didn’t hesitate to do it because we’ve always enjoyed football. We respect it. We love it. We stood up for football; we didn’t let it be tarnished. So it wasn’t difficult for us to activate Red Button because we stood up for football. If I had to activate Red Button again, I’d do it time and time again.

Of course, you worry about your family. I went through eight very difficult months because they wouldn’t let me play. Turrialba wouldn’t release me from my contract and I missed out on important opportunities in the First Division. I was training on my own, had nowhere to go, and had to go back to selling food to help support my family financially. But God gave me the strength to carry on, and the support of my wife, her family and my children was vital.

And ASOJUPRO’s support. They never left us in the lurch. They sent us messages, went to the federation, and lobbied to secure the contract termination. My team-mate and I are very grateful to them. When I decided to go public with what had happened, I also received support from many in the football community. Friends, team-mates and coaches have congratulated me for speaking out.

Today I feel grateful. Grateful to ASOJUPRO and FIFPRO, who have stood by me throughout the process and defended the integrity of football and my rights. Grateful to Lankester AF, who opened their doors to me so I could return to playing in the Third Division. Grateful to Santa Ana FC, with whom I returned to professional football at the start of this year. Grateful for the support of HO Soccer.

And I also feel at peace because, in the end, the truth has come to light. A few days ago, the Appeals Tribunal of the Costa Rican Football Federation upheld the sanction against Pereira Calderon, De la Torre and Valencia: a five-year ban from any activity related to federated football.

The fact that the sanction has been upheld shows that everything that was presented carried weight. The message is clear: the rules exist and must be respected. All of them. Respect for football also involves ensuring that players’ labour rights are upheld. Today, there are rulings won in the proceedings that have still not been paid.

As captain, I’m used to giving advice. And my most humble advice to footballers around the world, especially the younger ones, is not to be afraid to press the Red Button. It’s a safeguard for us players. When you face this sort of situation, the Red Button and FIFPRO will protect your name, your career, your family and your future.

Let’s not allow football to be tarnished and let’s remove everyone who is harming it.