Among the enduring tales saved from obscurity are the ones that shine because of their courage and odd stubbornness. Nita, the first Spanish football player to be labeled a heretic for keeping a secret romance with the sport, stands as a beacon of devotion to football and the woman who loved it passionately.
Anita Carmona Ruiz was born on May 16, 1908, in Málaga’s lively Capuchinos district. The youngest daughter of a dockworker and a housewife, she watched sunsets over the Mediterranean with her brothers after her father finished work. While others admired that beauty, Nita found herself drawn to a group of burly British men kicking a leather ball in a game they called football.
Her curiosity grew into resolve. A bold girl set on joining the sport, she faced daily punishment from her father for participating in what many called a vulgar male pastime. Yet the pull of the game proved stronger. In her youth, she could be seen practicing along the promenade near the artillery barracks, and she eventually joined the newly formed Sporting de Málaga, supported by a devoted parish priest, Francisco Míguez Fernández. Friends recall that Don Francisco was a true admirer of football and a guiding presence in the club’s early days.
Nita began her path at the club as an assistant to the masseuse, Juanito Marteache, even helping with laundry. Her presence won the affection of the team and helped her attend matches, especially when teammates were away from home and needed discretion to avoid raising suspicions.
To blend in on the field, Nita cut her hair short, dressed as a man, and bound her chest with tight bandages to conceal feminine features. She adopted the male nickname Veleta to carry out her plan to play anti-expectations football. It was a risky strategy, but the stakes were high and the dream was clear: she wanted to play the game she loved.
Those efforts did not go unnoticed. Rival players grew envious and eventually an exposé followed. Complicating matters, her uncle, a family doctor, argued that such activity could harm her body. When Nita refused to abandon her pursuit, she was sent to stay with relatives in Vélez-Málaga for a time, a so-called exile meant to steer her away from the sport that fascinated her.
This period of temporary distance only sharpened her resolve. Upon returning, she joined Vélez CF, continuing to chase her dream and the joy football offered. Her perseverance underscored a simple truth: a woman could chase a passion once believed to be reserved for men.
Yet a new obstacle loomed with the creation of the Southern Football Association and the Local Referee Board, whose statutes forbade women from competing in men’s leagues. In Segalerva games, city guards were even stationed to ensure Nita did not step onto the pitch. It was a harsh, oppressive climate for a woman who refused to give up the sport she loved.
With the steadfast support of her champions, particularly the priests who believed in her, Nita kept playing until the Civil War broke out and everything changed. She died in 1940 at a little over thirty, from a fever caused by tick typhus. On her deathbed, Sporting de Málaga stood by her memory. She was buried in San Rafael cemetery among relatives and friends who praised her bravery and the way she challenged a system that tried to keep her away from the field.
Friends and journalists alike remember the moments when she wore the Sporting jersey, the club she loved most. Photographs from that era were rare and precious, often taken at carnivals as a disguise to avoid suspicion. She wore a footballer’s likeness in a time when images were costly and scarce, a small rebellion captured in a single frame and told by the likes of local reporters who chronicled her extraordinary journey.
In the end, Nita’s story stands as a testament to a lifelong love of football and a quiet insistence that gender should not determine who may chase a ball and a dream. Her tale remains a potent emblem of courage and a reminder that the game has always drawn strength from those who dare to play it their way. Evidence of her legacy endures in the memories of a club, a community, and the many people who continue to tell her story with reverence and awe.