Life in four lines: the days were stones, then sand, then air. And now, finally, they are nothing. The universe is measured by a beautiful cadence. The known and the unknown, interpreted through what we cannot be. From the force that pushes someone into their own history to the drift of death that follows the final rattling breath. We care deeply for ourselves, yet we carry a faint, elusive glow through the mists of time. No exceptions. It repeats with everyone and with clubs, with many more reasons. Simple explanations are accepted because the world makes sense the way it is. We tell ourselves it fits, we understand, it makes sense… then it becomes true. And like anything deemed true, it resists argument. Most people drown in this comparison. We will vanish within this grammatical frame.
Hercules appears as a tattered flag fluttering from a rusty pole, mounted on the stern of an old wooden galleon infested with woodworm. From a distance the sight is impressive in the fog, yet up close one sees that escaping it is impossible. The deadly target is the one who cannot escape his reach, who follows him in every move, every decision. It is sad, it is frustrating, it is unfair, tremendous, intolerable, yet true, and that is why it wounds so many people.
Pacheta and Cubillo dismissed even though their teams sit in the promotion zone
The randomness, luckily observed, makes Hercules laugh at both itself and its makers, inside and out. Each setback is followed by a long run of challenges. Progress feels stubborn. Sixteen coaches have perished since the last fall into the Second B. Eight seasons have passed, one erased by covid. Now, with perspective, analyzing it beyond the tyranny of the near present, it seems impossible to conclude that anyone is inherently unable to fulfill the goal. It’s hard to swallow. So where is the big mistake?
The most basic and difficult task is to expose and dismantle the strongest power pyramid. What cannot be guaranteed by anyone—the appearance of justification—does not prove that beheading cures a disease caused by multiple afflictions.
Disaster, however it appears, is not exclusive to Hercules. It does not bow to a single cause. Many factors, often external, reflect the quirks that a square is both unattractive and unmanageable. This city stands as a symbol, spilling over into too many people, too many classrooms, and attracting countless interests, not always noble, sometimes destructive.
The Burgos coach’s case illuminates the fate of a worn-out being whose environment demands something no one can guarantee.
Blue and white, a squad that moved through sixteen distant philosophies with divergent bids, managed to start and finish the campaign on the bench only twice since the 2011-12 season. Juan Carlos Mandia, Planagumà in 2018-19, and Sergio Mora most recently, none achieving the goal. Their missions faced heavy scrutiny, armed with arguments. Some others—Pacheta, Herrero, Vicente Mir, Tevenet, Luque, Siviero, Barragán, Visnjic, Vegar, Muñoz, Moreno, Cubillo, Esteve, and Díaz—failed in two attempts each.
Pacheta, Herrero, Tevenet, Vicente Mir, Siviero, Planagumà, Cubillo and Mora are named in a footer note about the team. They illustrate the ongoing churn within the club’s leadership and midfield. Information
Pacheta, paradigm
In the broader frame, the case helps to outline the long-standing causes that have pulled Hercules down. Burgos’ coach arrived in Alicante when the full squad had been relegated to Second B after brief spells in higher divisions, and three years in the lower tiers left a strong aroma of professional football in the air. The drama began there. Walking without a solid grounding, imagining one is better than oneself, often leads to misjudgment because diagnoses are based on the image each person creates of himself, not the patient itself. This grand idealization, like self-help, acts on the mind rather than curing the core issue, so the drama remains once the book closes.
Pacheta took the helm after trials in Soria (relegation), Oviedo (no luck), and Cartagena (a middle way). He entered with an open mind, calm, pragmatic. Even the winning bid faced sharp questions. The press questioned his conservatism, his emphasis on detail, his direct play, and his stance toward disciplined movement.
He came to lead the team, but at that moment no one truly valued him. When he arrived, it was the bare minimum required. Eight years later, stepping beyond football with friction, it becomes easier to admit the unfairness toward Pacheta, the difficulty in succeeding, and the sticks that fall whenever trouble arises. Two matches were drawn after Christmas. Without four consecutive wins, the team’s fortunes turned to a draw and a loss, and the manager was dismissed as the season closed—four days apart, the team finished seven points behind the leader.
This urgency fuels most disasters. The man from Burgos even ventured abroad to Thailand, and upon returning to Spain, saw three promotions (two to the top division) and a moment when Huesca seemed poised for permanence in the highest category, a prospect that felt almost unbelievable at the time.
Chance
One can only speculate what would have happened to Pacheta, or Cubillo, or Mora, if patience had been granted. This remains empirical proof that there is no single formula—luck carries weight, and so does the desire to improve things.
Siviero, promoted to Primera RFEF with Intercity, was dismissed from Hercules on the ninth match day after a draw. Planagumà’s attempt to reconnect the social audience with the team faced closed doors in his second year, his plan maligned by critics, and a public sector quick to cast him as a scapegoat, with some reporters leading the way with apologies for failing to meet expectations.
Hercules has endured a century. A British figure, Alejandro Finning, arrived in the early seasons of the club, almost a decade after its founding. Twenty-eight matches were played on the 19-20 field before suspension. After stints with five coaches, including Planagumà, Vegar, Muñoz, Mir, and Moreno, Hercules landed near the bottom of the table, barely escaping relegation just as a national alert was declared.
Today, Quique Sánchez Flores, the former Getafe boss, stands in the memory of last year. He faced a tough turn, finishing in a position that prevented promotion and stirring controversy around management decisions. The attempt to tighten control, while aiming to stabilize the locker room, brought tension and debates about the right approach. The climate around the club’s leadership showed how difficult it is to steer a squad when the surrounding environment feeds a cycle of drama, doubt, and shifting loyalties.
No one acts against their own interests. Everyone seeks improvement, yet a flood of ideas, loyalties, and grievances makes it hard for anything to go smoothly in football. This error—like fear, hatred, greed, or arrogance—sits in human nature. Truth often gives way to a story that stirs emotion first in order to win the moment, even if the outcome proves harmful. Hercules remains enmeshed in foam and rumors, and those who insist there is no internal or external fault are mistaken—and more than enough.
In the end, the club’s narrative continues to unfold, shaped by personalities, decisions, and the unpredictable tempo of the game.
Pacheta: “We don’t depend on our fans, it’s hard”
Luke Belmar