Thank you for never giving up: CD Estepona secures its place in the league, a moment that will go down in the club's history

A few months ago, it seemed impossible.

Today, at the Francisco Muñoz Pérez stadium, it was just proven that it wasn’t.

CD Estepona will remain in Segunda RFEF after defeating Real Madrid C 3-1 on a night when the team once again competed as it has been doing for months: pushing the limits, facing the pressure, and often battling the feeling that there was no room left to maneuver… until this group decided to play every match as if there were no tomorrow.

And that is probably why this survival is so incredibly valuable.

Because what this team has just achieved cannot be explained solely by a final score or a specific playoff series, but by the entire journey it has had to undertake to get here—since December, since that moment when it seemed doomed, since that point where everything was pointing downward… and the group decided to rebel against it.

Because this survival didn’t come from a place of comfort.

It came from the edge.

From weeks spent playing like it was a final.

From matches where there was no margin for error.

From nights where every mistake seemed decisive.

From Yecla.

From Valdebebas.

And from a Francisco Muñoz Pérez who tonight ended up pushing as if the club’s future depended on it.

Because it probably depended on that a little bit, too.

What this group has achieved is lifting up a club, rebuilding a structure, and restoring hope to a city that needed to believe in something of its own again—and that doesn’t happen by chance or appear out of nowhere, but only when someone decides not to give up at the very moment when everything is urging them to do so.

Like José Hidalgo, the club’s president, who in the most delicate moment of the entire season chose to stand by the project, trust in the work, and keep betting on it when the easy thing would have been to get swept up in the noise—because where others would have closed a chapter, he decided to open a new one.

From there came order.

Structure.

Professionalism.

With Julen Guerrero at the helm of a quiet but absolutely decisive rebuild, bringing method, high standards, and commitment even while going through an extremely difficult personal situation, proving that his stature within the club is not measured solely by sporting decisions, but also by the example he sets, by his ability to sustain a project when everything around him seemed to be falling apart.

And on the bench appeared the piece that finally brought everything together: Manolo Sánchez, the coach who spoke from day one of “subduing the opponent” and “going out to win”… and managed to get the team to truly believe it, the coach who asks to be treated as just another member of the team when he probably doesn’t realize he’s been one for a long time, because he didn’t just lead a team—he changed the mindset of an entire locker room and that of the entire environment.

Alongside them emerged a coaching staff that raised the club’s daily standard until it became a team ready to compete under maximum pressure, from Hugo Ramos, always in the background but always present; Sergi Puertas, physically taking the group to a higher level; Álvaro Rodríguez and Manuel Montenegro, getting players back in record time; Dani Seller, fine-tuning every return; Diego de la Rosa, perfectly understanding the demands of the goalkeeper’s role; and Pablo Ajo, preparing every match down to the last detail—not to mention those who keep things running day-to-day away from the spotlight, like José Luis Rodríguez, Diego Morales, Antonio Cáceres, or Francisco Montes, because there are also foundations built from within and away from the cameras.

And then there are them.

The players.

The ones who turned all of this from mere talk into reality.

From the goal, where Alfonso Liceras was so much more than just a goalkeeper, because he ended up becoming the savior, the player who secured impossible points with saves that turned entire games around and who also returned in January after an injury to give the team something even more important than his hands: faith, transmitting that passion with which he understands soccer and infects everything around him; while at his side, Joel Ruiz perfectly embodied what a healthy locker room means, supporting, believing, and pushing every week as if he were the star without needing to be one.

In defense, the team found something deeper than solidity.

It found identity.

Because if this team were a ship, José Antonio Caro would be its captain, a natural leader who charted the course through character, humility, and commitment, accompanied by Titi, that perfectly controlled competitive madness, that center back who lives every play as if it were his last, and alongside them, Antonio Marín, steadfast, reliable, and consistent even in the most tense moments.

But there are names that speak to something even more emotional, like Alfonso Candelas, who is not just a fullback, but pure passion, that player who reaches the end line and manages to lift an entire stadium because he embodies the team’s spirit in every move; accompanied as well by players who built their contributions through quiet, consistent work, like Xiker, always waiting for his moment and rising to the occasion; Ramón Blázquez, growing into his role; Iván Muñoz, ready whenever the team needed him; Alberto González, giving his all at every opportunity; or Álvaro Díaz, who even in a difficult season never stopped being there.

And then there are cases like that of Mario Camero, proving that you can be important even from the sidelines, because this survival is his too.

In midfield, balance emerged, but so did the character that ultimately kept the team competitive during the toughest months.

Juanan, that all-around player every coach wants to have—a fighter, versatile, and tireless; Javi Duarte, always playing a few seconds ahead of the rest, understanding the rhythm and flow of each game like very few others; and Ale Contreras, the magician, capable of turning any ball into something unpredictable.

All around them, pure energy.

Sandji Barandji, the “+3 in the bag,” a brutal physical presence, the “Black Panther” of Estepona; Sergio León, immediate impact, presence, and competitiveness; and Samu Expósito, constant drive, persistence, and ability to break through.

Not to mention those who kept things running day-to-day even away from the media spotlight, like Nacho Goma, training as a starter without being on the roster, or Eneko Delgado, also important to the team’s journey—because yes, this survival belongs to them too.

And then there are those who directly embody what the club stands for.

David Pomares, who doesn’t just play for Estepona—he is Estepona—a product of the youth academy, the very identity and pure spirit of the club; Maxi Benítes, who went from playing in local leagues in Estepona to competing months later in a relegation playoff against Real Madrid C without even flinching; and Rodney Aguayo, always ready to step up when the team needed him.

Because here, everyone ended up contributing.

Up front, the team found goals… but also character.

Ariel Herrero, “El Guaje”, returned from injury to change the team’s dynamic starting in January with fight, pressure, and character; while Héber Pena, who doesn’t cross the ball but poems, also decided to show up on big nights with spectacular goals that ended up meaning so much more than just a result.

And then there’s him.

Šćepović.

The Serbian bomber.

The player who doesn’t score ordinary goals.

Only moments.

The one against La Unión in the 83rd minute.

The one against Águilas in the 97th minute.

The one that appeared when it seemed impossible.

And on top of that, a constant example in the locker room, helping, advising, and pushing everyone with his experience.

Alongside them, the growth of David Ballarín, moving from discretion to an explosion of boldness and intensity; and Roi Tato, also important along the way until injury slowed him down.

Everyone.

Absolutely everyone.

They have built something that goes far beyond a qualification.

Because this wasn’t done in a day.

Or in a week.

Or in a single match.

It began to take shape in Totana, in Lebrija, against UCAM, against La Unión, in that 97th minute, in Valdebebas… and it culminated in an emotional outpouring tonight at a Francisco Muñoz Pérez stadium that never stopped believing.

Because yes.

There was also a city behind them.

And that deserves its own recognition.

Because there are achievements that come from the field.

And others that are also sustained from the stands.

What the Francisco Muñoz Pérez experienced tonight was so much more than just atmosphere.

It was a city pushing forward.

A city believing.

A city understanding that this match wasn’t just about a division, but about the immediate future of an entire project.

And the team felt it.

Because there were moments during the season when the club supported the team.

But on this final night…

it was the city that supported the club.

And that won’t be forgotten either.

Because this survival wasn’t achieved from a position of comfort.

It was achieved from the brink.

From the pressure.

From matches where there was no tomorrow.

And precisely for that reason…

it is so incredibly valuable.

CD Estepona will remain in Segunda RFEF for the 2026/2027 season.

But perhaps the most important thing is something else:

that this club felt alive again.

And no one can take that away now.

That’s why there’s no analysis today.

There’s only one word left.

Thank you.

Thank you for believing.

Thank you for competing.

Thank you for never giving up.

And thank you for giving Estepona back something that can never be measured in points:

hope.

Because this isn’t the end.

It’s the beginning.

Estepona believes again.