Sport II

The red card

Walter Humes

Now that the media wailing and gnashing of teeth following the exit of England from the World Cup has subsided, dare I raise the possibility that there is something disturbing about the national obsession with the 'beautiful game' – an obsession that affects Scotland every bit as much as England? At the risk of provoking hate mail, I would suggest that the emotional investment many people make in the fortunes of their favoured club or national team is decidedly unhealthy.
     Let me make it clear that I have no difficulty in admiring the dedication and skills of players, or enjoying the drama of a keenly-contested match. Likewise, it would be wrong to label all professional footballers as pampered prima-donnas, or to assume that the tendency of a few to press the self-destruct button through drink and drugs is representative of the game as a whole. But beneath all the glitz and the glamour, and the well-publicised charitable activities of leading clubs and players, there is a darker side to the whole enterprise.
     Football now crosses class and income boundaries, with fans just as likely to be investment bankers, TV celebrities or public service professionals as traditional working class supporters. The rich and powerful clearly believe that this mock-egalitarianism serves their interests rather well. For some, of course, it is merely a 'style statement', a fashionable pose designed to give them street credibility and express solidarity with 'ordinary' folk. But for others it is – as Bill Shankly, a former manager of Liverpool, once put it – 'more important than life and death'.
     The strength of this commitment helps to explain many of the unattractive aspects of the game. These include the mindless tribalism of some fans, especially when fuelled by drink and religious or nationalistic bigotry. Then there is the commercial exploitation of supporters by greedy clubs and sponsors. Am I alone in finding the sight of toddlers decked out in team colours thoroughly distasteful, a symbol of inter-generational ignorance masquerading as community solidarity?
    
There is also the macho posturing of managers who routinely give their backing to players who behave badly, whether on or off the field. The psychology of some club owners is also pretty suspect: they seem to view the acquisition of a leading team as just another trophy to display alongside the successful business, the big house, the flashy car and the designer wife. Add to this the casual attitudes to 'professional' fouls, and dubious financial transactions in the transfer market, and it all amounts to a pretty unsavoury picture. It is perhaps seen at its worst during derby matches between traditional rivals, when police report a substantial increase in incidents of domestic violence as disappointed fans go home and take it out on their wives or partners.
     I have another complaint about the effect of football mania, particularly as it applies to young people. By encouraging them to invest so much of their time and energy vicariously, through seeking to identify with the achievements of their team, football cuts them off from many other possibilities, prevents them from realising their own potential, developing their own skills. Instead they opt for the second-hand experience of being a football supporter.
     Perhaps football, rather than religion, has become the opium of the people. Regular opportunities for collective hysteria and emotional incontinence serve to prevent any serious reflection about the personal or social significance of something that used to be fun but has been progressively distorted and debased by a combination of massive egos, commercial cynicism and psychological denial. The cultural symbolism of football, as represented by leading teams and international competition, now extends far beyond the playing pitch. It stands for atavistic tribal behaviour, for greed and corporate cronyism, for the irresponsible power of the mob, and for a collective failure to interrogate why a mere game has assumed so much significance in the public consciousness.

Walter Humes is research professor in education at the University of the West of Scotland