On the eve of the Colombian squad’s departure for the United States, what was meant as a ceremonial flag handover by President Gustavo Petro descended into acrimony. Footage of his 17-year-old daughter Antonella apparently being ignored when she asked captain James Rodríguez for a photograph went viral, unleashing waves of denunciation online. The Colombian Football Federation swiftly condemned the “harassment” of players on social media and appealed for respect, while supporters of the president accused the team of a deliberate snub. The episode – at a moment when the side should be preparing for its first World Cup match in a decade – threatened to eclipse sporting focus with political polarisation.

Within 24 hours the narrative shifted. Antonella Petro posted a video message in which she minimised the encounter, declaring James an idol and recalling that the first goal she ever celebrated was his strike in the 2014 tournament. “In the field, we are one single country,” she said, appealing for unity. Hours later the captain replied on the same channel, promising “that photo will happen” and offering a signed jersey. Rodríguez explained he simply had not heard her request, a technical failure that he joked should be remedied next time by speaking louder. From Bogotá to Brasília, commentators noted the speed with which social-media fury gave way to reciprocal public gestures of goodwill.

The conciliatory tone did not extend to the presidential palace. Gustavo Petro himself waded back into the football-politics nexus with a tweet about defender Yerry Mina. Accompanied by a photo montage, the message read: “Dignity or nostalgia of slave-owning nobles” – a sharp historical allusion that reignited debate on his vision of Colombia’s class and racial hierarchies. The post triggered both support and condemnation, and underscored how the head of state himself was instrumentalising football as a stage for his agenda even as his daughter and the team sought to drain the controversy of bile.

The affair exposes the combustible proximity of sport and politics in a deeply polarised Colombia. Less than a year before the World Cup, the national side has become a canvas onto which competing identities are projected – a symbol of national unity for some, a platform for presidential posturing for others. With the squad now in the United States for acclimatisation, the focus will turn to their on-pitch performance. Yet the speed of the truce engineered by Antonella and James suggests many Colombians are weary of letting the political class annex the one institution that still cuts across factions. As preparations intensify, the question is whether this brief flare-up was an aberration or a prelude to further incursions.