Amparo lawsuit over Promotion and Relegation in Liga MX advances; hearing dates are set

On a Saturday afternoon, at a small stadium in Mérida, I happened to watch a video clip sent by a Mexican colleague. The stands were almost empty. A young player from the home side scored, but there was no roar to greet it. He stood there, took a deep breath, and returned to his position. This season, his second-division club was second in the table, but there was nothing left to fight for. No promotion spot. No 'historic final.' That boy is not on the owners' spreadsheet. He is in the soil I had forgotten. Meanwhile, in Mexico City, a legal battle is unfolding at a far deeper level than any match on the pitch. The amparo lawsuit filed by the law firm Del Real & Asociados against the suspension of promotion and relegation in Liga MX has just passed a key procedural milestone. Hearing dates are now set: September 24 for precautionary measures, November 3 for the constitutional merits hearing. From Hamburg, I look west and see a structure cracking. Context: The roots of the battle The story began in April 2026, when the COVID-19 pandemic forced Mexican football to a halt. In the midst of the crisis, Liga MX and the Mexican Football Federation (FMF) quietly made a decision without any popular referendum: suspending the promotion/relegation system. Formally, the stated reason was to reduce the financial burden on clubs while the pandemic raged. In substance, analysts have pointed out that it was a defensive move by top-flight club owners who did not want to face the 'financial cliff' of relegation. The consequence: Liga de Expansión MX, Mexico's second division, became a dead zone. Its clubs still play, still pay wages, still train young players, but there is no path to the top. No season carries the meaning of 'promotion.' No playoff for the final spot. Talented young players have no incentive to give everything, and investors withdraw. I have witnessed the difference between an open league and a closed league over more than four decades as a football journalist. In Germany, where I live, the 2. Bundesliga is not only a nursery for future top clubs; it is also where fairy tales are written. In the 2026-2026 season, watching 1. FC Heidenheim earn promotion for the first time in their history, I remembered a small town in Baden-Württemberg erupting through the night. They did not just win a match; they defeated an entire system. The value of 'sporting merit' lies precisely in those moments when a small community overcomes the giants. Mexico took that away from millions of people, and this lawsuit is trying to give it back. Opposition grew. Fans from different regions of the country came together. Players' families, merchants, local workers - those who live off football - began to raise their voices. In 2026, Del Real & Asociados acted. They filed an amparo lawsuit, a constitutional protection remedy in Mexico, on behalf of football fans, alleging that the elimination of promotion/relegation violated the constitution and the fundamental rights of supporters. The suit does not ask the court to decide which teams should go up or down; it raises a much bigger question: whether football governing bodies may erase 'sporting merit' by administrative decision. Analysis: Four layers of the case Layers of summer sediment: I dig deeper and find a season never written. Here, that season is not a string of matches but a string of legal documents being drafted in Mexican law offices. To understand why this case matters so much, we need to look at its four structural layers. The first layer is the amparo mechanism. It is a distinctive tool of Mexican constitutional law, allowing an individual or organization to challenge an act or norm they believe violates constitutional rights. This lawsuit targets the regulations of Liga MX and FMF regarding the suspension of promotion/relegation. What the lawyers at Del Real & Asociados are doing is building a landmark argument: they do not ask the court to produce a sporting outcome; they ask the court to declare that eliminating 'mérito deportivo' (sporting merit) by regulatory decision is unconstitutional. In other words, they transform a dispute over league structure into a question of fans' constitutional rights. The autonomy of a sports federation has never been challenged so systematically in Mexico. The second layer is the two dates. The September 24 hearing on precautionary measures (medidas cautelares) will determine whether the status quo may be temporarily altered. If the court grants precautionary measures, it could force Liga MX and FMF to temporarily restore promotion/relegation immediately, before the merits are heard. But let me be clear: this hearing does not decide the case. The November 3 hearing is the merits hearing (fondo), where judges will examine the constitutionality of the suspension. There is a vast difference in legal weight between these two dates, and anyone treating September 24 as a 'final' is deceiving themselves. I have seen too many fans worldwide confuse a procedural step with a final verdict. The third layer is the plaintiffs' argument. The law firm has expanded the case beyond purely sporting territory. They invoke 'social, labor, and economic effects.' Players' families, workers, merchants from different regions of the country are all named as affected parties. This is a clever legal strategy: by broadening the group of people with legal standing, they strengthen their case and turn the lawsuit into a socio-economic struggle, not merely a sporting dispute. In a country where football is religion, linking the case to the livelihoods of thousands of families can generate enormous political pressure. I recall the stories of second-division clubs in Germany - clubs like FC St. Pauli or 1. FC Magdeburg - where local communities live with the pulse of their team. When football dies, a whole region dies with it. The fourth layer is risk. From the perspective of FMF and Liga MX, this is a high-risk lawsuit. If the court rules that eliminating promotion/relegation is unconstitutional, they could be forced to restore the mechanism, or at least amend current regulations. This would both change the competitive landscape and strike a heavy blow to the federation's autonomy. The defendant authorities must file an 'informe justificado' - a report justifying their actions. This is the first time a league-structure issue has been subjected to review before Mexico's Federal Judiciary. Notably, FMF and Liga MX now face a paradox: if they win, they consolidate their power; if they lose, they become a precedent for every sports federation in the world - that their autonomy is not absolute. The most subtle aspect of Del Real & Asociados' behavior is their repeated emphasis that the hearings 'do not mean the matter is resolved.' This is a deliberate effort to manage expectations - a technique I have seen in many European media campaigns but rarely in a Latin American sports case. They are playing a long game, not a short one. They know public opinion could turn against them if everyone treats the emergency hearing as a victory and then becomes disappointed when the court does not issue a final ruling. From the perspective of a long-term observer, I want to stress a point few notice: this case puts Mexico at the center of a global debate over open versus closed league models. While some European football nations, especially Germany, still maintain promotion/relegation with the 50+2 rule - allowing fans to hold a majority stake - the North American closed-league model is coveted by many European owners. The European Super League collapsed because of fan opposition, but the idea of a league without promotion or relegation still lingers. This amparo case, if successful, could become a legal reference for those who want to resist that closing trend. There is also a ripple effect on youth development that nobody mentions directly, but which ranks among my greatest concerns. When the possibility of promotion disappears, the academies of second-division clubs lose their reason to exist. Why would an owner invest in a youth academy if their club will never have a chance to play at the highest level? The most talented young player in Liga de Expansión MX would lose any motivation to stay; they would go abroad, or worse, quit football. I have seen this happen in Vietnam before the V-League had a transparent promotion system. Lower-division teams drifted aimlessly, with no goals, and young talents vanished. Top-level football cannot survive without grassroots football, and grassroots football needs an open door ahead. This makes the amparo case a lawsuit about the future of Mexican football, not just about its past. The blind spot: Not just justice Now let me offer a perspective rarely seen in newspapers. Looking at the economic substance, this case is not purely 'fans' justice' as it is framed. It is also a dispute between two groups of investors: second-division club owners who are losing the opportunity to increase their asset value through promotion, and first-division owners who protect their asset value from relegation risk. In modern football, 'pure love' and 'commercial interest' are often two sides of the same coin. The real question I want to ask: is 'fan rights' a solid legal concept or just a rhetorical device? In my journey observing football systems in Germany and Vietnam, I have learned that data stops at the stadium gate. Inside, people play with fear and dreams. But courts do not operate on fear and dreams. Courts operate on clauses. If the Mexican court does not recognize fans as parties with legitimate legal interests, the entire case could collapse at the doorstep, no matter how 'right' it is morally. Another blind spot lies in the consequences of a ruling favoring the plaintiffs. If the court declares the elimination of promotion/relegation unconstitutional, it would set a precedent for legal attacks on league autonomy worldwide. That may sound progressive, but it could also open the door for judges - who do not understand football - to interfere in the professional decisions of federations. Why should a court have the authority to determine whether a league should be open or closed? Where is the line between protecting rights and undermining sports self-governance? I am not sure anyone has a clear answer, and that very uncertainty creates risk for both sides. From my experience following similar cases in Germany, courts are usually very cautious about intervening in the self-governance of sports associations. They tend to favor arguments about 'sporting organizational autonomy' unless there is a clear constitutional violation. Does the suspension of promotion/relegation constitute a clear constitutional violation? Is 'sporting merit' a constitutional right? I suspect the plaintiffs' chances at the merits hearing are not high, although the September 24 emergency hearing could produce procedural surprises. But football has taught me that the most uncertain things often happen - that is why we watch for 90 minutes. Instead of a conclusion When I was young, I thought football was a match. Now, at 60, I understand that football is a structure - and every structure can be put on trial. This case has exposed a truth no league table can show: the question of who owns sporting merit is never answered on the pitch. It is answered in courtrooms, boardrooms, and dry legal documents that most fans never read. The World Cup is not about proving who is right. It is about proving that football is always younger than us. And this time, Mexican football is being taught a lesson about its own youth.