The Day Fabrizio Romano Blocked The Worst Team In The World

Real Kakamora turned a horrific losing streak into a global following by joking about their own results. In September 2025, they turned that same humour on football's most famous transfer reporter  and got blocked for it. The spat itself was small. What it reveals about football journalism in 2026 isn't.

Solomon Islands national football team ahead of the OFC National Cup

In September 2025, a football club from the Solomon Islands posted a sarcastic GIF underneath one of Fabrizio Romano's updates about Cristiano Ronaldo. Within hours, Romano had blocked them.

Normally, getting blocked by a journalist isn't news. But Real Kakamora isn't a normal club, and Romano isn't a normal journalist.

From worst team alive to social media phenomenon

A few years ago, Kakamora were arguably the worst professional football team anywhere. In 2023, they lost every single match of their Solomon Islands S-League season, conceding more than five goals a game on average and finishing with a goal difference of -102. Rather than disappear quietly, the club leaned into it. In early 2024, they rebranded their Instagram account and started mocking their own results, picking online fights with bigger clubs for laughs.

Aerial view of the Solomon Islands National Stadium

It worked. Within a month, Kakamora were the most-followed club in their own league. Within a year, they'd snapped a 33-match losing streak, climbed to third place  their best finish ever  and become one of the most talked-about clubs in Oceania, all while their top-flight licence was quietly denied entirely in early 2025. The tone that built that following  sharp, self-deprecating, unafraid to punch up at anyone bigger  is exactly what got Kakamora noticed by Romano.

And exactly what got them blocked.

Who is Fabrizio Romano, and why does a block matter?

Romano needs less introduction than Kakamora. He started as an assistant to Sky Italia reporter Gianluca Di Marzio before building his own following around a simple two-word confirmation: "Here we go." When Romano posts it, the deal is usually done. That reliability built him one of the biggest personal audiences in sports media, tens of millions of followers across X, Instagram and YouTube, and a paid deal with streaming platform Kick.

Kakamora's issue with him wasn't accuracy. It was tone. The club had already criticised Romano on social media for posting well over a hundred times in the days after Liverpool forward Diogo Jota's death in July 2025, calling it engagement farming dressed up as tribute. They'd also piled onto a much older, larger complaint: Romano's enthusiastic coverage of Mason Greenwood, the Marseille forward who was charged with attempted rape, assault, and controlling and coercive behaviour  charges later dropped after the complainant stopped cooperating with the investigation. Fans quoted by football outlets have accused Romano of "reputation laundering" for how he covered Greenwood's return to the game.

Fabrizio Romano speaking on stage

That wasn't the last time Romano faced this kind of criticism. In March 2026, he posted a paid, clearly labelled advertisement promoting a Saudi Arabian humanitarian organisation, and was met with comparisons to the murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi and accusations that he was being paid to soften a government's image. He reportedly hired lawyers in response.

No statements, just silence

Here's what's genuinely unclear: neither side has said much officially. Kakamora's account has kept posting in its usual style, and the story has spread mostly through football social media and memes rather than press releases. Romano has not addressed the block publicly at all. There's no quote to hold up from either side, just a block, a history of criticism, and a much louder online conversation than the incident itself.

Football fans raising hands in the stadium stands

The bigger question

That silence says something. Romano's entire brand runs on being first, being trusted, and posting constantly  which means he isn't just breaking news anymore, he's running a media business with sponsors, deals, and an audience to keep engaged between actual transfers. A tiny, chaotic Pacific Islands club calling that out isn't really about Kakamora versus Romano. It's about what happens once a reporter's platform gets big enough that going quiet becomes its own kind of statement  and once an account with a few thousand followers can hold one with tens of millions to account just by refusing to let something go.

Conclusion

Being a football reporter used to mean knowing things first and saying them plainly. Now it means building a personal brand, keeping an audience entertained between headlines, and surviving criticism from anyone with a phone  including, it turns out, a club that spent most of the 2020s finishing dead last. Whether that makes football journalism better or just louder depends on who you ask. Kakamora, for what it's worth, isn't asking. They're just still posting.