Tag Archives: Soccer

A lonely impulse of delight

04/21/2012 By in Sport Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 4 Comments

Football is called the ‘beautiful game’ but even its most fervent admirers will acknowledge this is deeply misleading. As most fans have to endure turgid displays of athleticism and tactical repression watching their teams. Agility, speed and technique – the three wonders of the game are regularly found wanting at most football grounds, especially in the lower leagues. From amateur slug fests on cow fields in Scotland to the UEFA Champions League, there is no escaping the drudgery of an eleven-a-side gridlock. A sport only rescued by the emotional and social camaraderie of supporting a team. Traditionally one from the the place you were born although that doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

While there is a huge emotional investment in football, which often overrides any on-field drudgery, tribal allegiances cannot sustain this passion alone. For love to prevail there must be a fantasy. And everybody loves Lionel Messi and to a lesser extent Cristiano Ronaldo for this very special reason. FC Barcelona and Real Madrid produce some of the most intoxicating football on the planet and outside viewers can be forgiven for thinking they are watching a different sport. Such is the theatrical intensity of the Spanish super clubs, even the corporate riches of the English Premier League feels decidedly meat and potatoes in comparison.

Despite being the size of a flea, Messi consistently surpasses his rival Ronaldo as the most loved player in the world. Frequently touted as the greatest of all time, the Argentine plays the game with a childlike sense of wonder, almost like an 18-year-old that doesn’t know how to grow up. In stark contrast to England’s most naturally gifted player, Wayne Rooney, who under the burden of professionalism has become a better “all round player” but rarely excites like the Everton teenager with a luminous first touch. With his low shins vulnerable to the studs of hostile defenders, Messi is a wonderful example of finesse triumphing over strength. The footballing equivalent of the beautiful tennis drop shot,  the little genius has no right to play the game but does so with near universal admiration.

Ronaldo meanwhile is the epitome of modern professionalism with his soaring physique and incredible goals-per-game ratio. The Portuguese winger is an overwhelmingly powerful player but with an ego the size of Lisbon he will always be a divisive one. A truly phenomenal athlete, Ronaldo has a fantastic work rate and should have more admirers than he does. Perhaps there is something manufactured about his approach that people don’t like. In this respect his arrogant demeanour and bio-engineered style will always leave him trailing behind his Barcelona rival.

Messi is unique in the modern game and what is frightening is that his lonely impulse of delight is only a ligament snap away from oblivion. Such is the nature of modern sport it’s a near miracle that he has never been seriously injured. Age, fatigue and eventually injury will tackle Messi like no other player can, so it remains a genuine privilege to watch him play in his prime. For when he lofts his hands towards the sky, it’s a reminder of the fleeting of his genius and lovers of the ‘beautiful game’ should watch Messi play everytime they can.

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The unexamined tweet is not worth tweeting

02/13/2012 By in Press & Media, Sport Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

If the racism scandal afflicting English football has taught us anything it is that the ‘tiny minority’ so often ignored by mainstream society now has a powerful voice. As the private nastiness that had previously been confined to living rooms and unsavoury pubs is now digitally logged for everyone to see. Already bigoted steams of racist abuse on Twitter has seen Manchester City defender Micah Richards abandon the network altogether. Sadly he is not alone with Gary Lineker disappearing after tweeting for little under a week citing that ‘local prejudice just seems to bring out the worst in some people’. Indeed many public figures and footballers have been forced to give up the service because of the bile directed towards them. It’s certainly no place for anyone with a thin skin.

Anyone researching the Patrice Evra and Luis Suarez handshake affair on Twitter will uncover horrible levels of racist abuse. None of this reflects particularly well on the UK educational system and it goes without saying the majority of trolls are incredibly thick. In many ways Twitter has become a Victorian freak show dominated as much by the celebrity users as by the idiots trying to provoke them. Bigotry has never gone away. It’s just that the mainstream media reports hate crimes in such a formulaic fashion that it becomes easy to ignore. Racist abuse therefore becomes a journalistic pain. Something that can be dismissed with a mere switch of a button. But there is something so viscerally awful about Twitter that it simply can’t be ignored.

The CCTV of the mind will lead even the most unwilling of voyeurs to some very ugly places. Unsurprisingly the majority of the online abuse is usually expressed by deeply unhappy young men, which is only made worse by the individuals who associate themselves with certain football teams. Fizzing with testosterone and determined to prove their loyalty at all costs their colloquial prejudices have hitherto never had an audience before. Perhaps this more than anything represents the truly ugly side of the racism debate. If you give people a voice sadly far too many of them will resort to abuse. Indeed you don’t actually learn that much on Twitter but you do learn a lot about human nature.

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Kick it out

02/04/2012 By in Sport Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Celebrity culture and sporting prowess are two branches that only in England could have become intertwined. In the case of the Chelsea captain John Terry, who is facing trial on 9 July for racially abusing QPR defender Anton Ferdinand, it is the root of something very ugly indeed. Accused of racism by a member of the public after a YouTube clip went viral, the hysteria surrounding the case says as much about celebrity culture as it does about racism in football. Despite not wanting to defend Terry or any incident of racist or bigoted behaviour, a very dangerous precedent has been set where individuals can be thrown in court on accusations made not by the individual concerned but someone (potentially) sitting on a computer in Papua New Guinea.

With Terry losing the England captaincy because of these accusations, the hype surrounding the case also exposes a glib streak running through English popular culture. As football journalism in England is notorious for focusing on personalities and stories unlike in Spain or Italy where the emphasis is on sporting matters. In Spain journalists are even allowed to watch training and with this privilege comes the honour of improving their own knowledge of the game. As a result their coverage of football revolves around sporting excellence and not the personal lives of players.

Only in England could a journeyman footballer such as Joey Barton receive such press attention. Best known for being jailed for attacking a Liverpool teenager in May 2008, the notoriety surrounding the QPR player has been fuelled by his Twitter account. With over a million followers, the player bristles with self-righteous indignation and has a narcissistic desire for attention and thus provides scandal hungry English journalists easy headlines on a near daily basis. With the notable exception of Stan Bowles and Les Ferdinand, not many QPR players have attracted so much press attention as the former Newcastle play maker. However, Barton’s guttersnipe opinions and propensity to get into online feuds with journalists and fans has generated a level of hysteria that belies his achievements in the game.

Playing for a series of marginal clubs with no history of winning trophies, Barton has no medals to his name after a decade playing football. Alas the sporting culture in England is now all about being somebody rather than what you have achieved. Twitter only further accelerates a culture of gossip and spin allowing a narcissist such as Barton a global platform to broadcast his views. Already some players appear more pleased with the number of followers they have than trophies, where previously it had been medals and caps that were the benchmarks of success. Would for example a moderately talented Spanish player who takes the corners and free kicks for a minnow club like Getafe receive front page coverage in Spain?

With the ex-England captain now dethroned it looks like Terry won’t travel with the Euro 2012 squad this summer. But it is all too easy to forget that Terry had been previously stripped of the captaincy by Fabio Capello for having an affair with his team mate’s girlfriend. Sadly the celebrity circus goes on and the build up to the tournament from an England perspective will inevitably circle around their former captain’s court case.

As mediocre players such as Joey Barton try to establish new careers for themselves as ‘brands’, it will be fascinating to watch the English and Spanish sides at the Euro 2012 finals. Not just for their contrasting style of play but for their dignity and approach to the game. No one doubts that Spain are by far the better side. As the majesty of football is on the field of play and that is where it should remain too.

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The Referees (Les Arbitres)

06/04/2011 By in Sport Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

Football refereeing is a thankless task and in the modern era of multiple camera angles, buffoon pundits and Twitter. Anyone wishing to be the man in the middle will already understand that it is not a normal job; it’s a means of venting your frustrations on the rest of society. Offering a quirky and narcissistic insight into the world of football referees, Belgian film-maker Yves Hinant has produced a fascinating documentary about the men in black. With exclusive fly-on-the-wall access at the Euro 2008 finals, the film delves into the referee’s world as they face abuse from angry managers, death threats and scrutiny from a hostile media.

Revealing the mic’d conversations between referees, players and assistants, Swiss referee Massimo Busacca sets the tone early on by protesting to a Greek defender, ‘I am not God. We make also mistakes’. England’s Howard Webb will certainly agree with him. The bald Yorkshireman provides the film with its central character and is determined to referee the final. A man of few words and firm gestures, things don’t go to plan when he gives an offside goal against Poland and is compared to Hitler on YouTube.

Death threats are no laughing matter but there is something highly amusing about the circus that followed Howard Webb’s decision. His family were hounded by angry Polish fans and Donald Tusk, the Polish prime minister, admitted that he wanted to kill the English referee for his “obvious error”. In the modern game what matters is not the referee’s decision but what they are talking about in the television studio. Male bonding is at the heart of the Howard Webb crisis and the brusque manner in which the officials rally around the English referee shows how seriously they fret over their mistakes.

As the cameras followed the referees posing in their hotel rooms and singing along to Boyzone on their way to the stadium, the officials who are often demonised as being robotic or inhuman appear to be charming, vulnerable and highly sensitive men. Some of the vainer officials are comically entertaining and while refereeing is fervently individualistic by its very nature, they are a persecuted breed and need to stick together.

What is most striking about the film on a technical level is how the referees constantly talk and swear at their assistants. More often than not it is the assistant referee who alerts the referee to incidents of foul play. Their expletive bickering offers a muffled insight into how quickly the decisions are made and the lightning speed in which the referees have to make a decision. As most football fans already know, the referees only get to see it once and this fantastic documentary offers a small window into their private world of imperfection.

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Let the Stories Begin

04/26/2011 By in Sport Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Most football fans experience the same numbing emptiness the weekend after the last game of the season. Despite anticipating it for months in advance, there is no solace when the day finally arrives. Waking up on a Saturday morning and realising you have absolutely nothing to do in the afternoon. Sunshine may be splitting through your curtains but gone are the brusque talk shows, lunchtime games, fantasy football transfers, spread betting and laddish banter about the latest sexual shenanigans of Premiership footballers. Football sows a thread from a young age and while friends come and go, relationships collapse and society changes beyond recognition, the one consistency in a football fan’s life is the game itself.

On the eve of a Champions League semi-final, the same pulsating excitement will reach fever pitch across the world in another week of brilliant stories. Over the next two weeks football fans in England, Germany and Spain will undergo 180 minutes of unbridled joy, heart ache, anger and delirious portions of luck. However, the Champions League is an elitist competition reserved for the best clubs in the world. The majority of normal football fans support mediocre teams who rarely win trophies or achieve any noticeable success. Aberdeen FC are my home town club and my slavish devotion to football began inside the Merkland Road Stand at Pittodrie as a ten-year-old. Back in the early 1990s, Aberdeen were a well-respected European side renowned for playing attractive, expansive football with a squad of creative international players such as Hans Gillhaus, Charlie Nicholas and Jim Bett.

As a young teenager I watched my local side undergo a spectacular demise and everything about Scottish football is terrible now. Scotland’s favourite sport has become little more than a Glaswegian sectarian backwater. With rough pitches, bomb threats, empty stadiums, mediocre players, and racist and abusive chanting being churned out on a weekly basis. Scottish football is beyond shocking and is now little more than a byword for anti-social behaviour. On watching ESPN recently, I felt utterly demoralised seeing a dreadful Aberdeen side play what appeared to be different sport to what my father introduced to me in 1991. Much has changed since then and almost none of it has been for the better.

All I remember about my first game at Pittodrie is stepping inside an obscure granite stand and gasping at a jaw dropping display of 21, 600 red seats smothered in a veil of haar. From that day forth I became addicted to football and despite vastly increasing my knowledge of sport, people and life in general, when it really matters, the same excitable immaturity of wanting to win at all costs overcomes objectivity every time.

With every passing year, people should be able to put football into a balanced context and understand the warring tribal complexities, and cyclical nature of luck and success but nothing stops your visceral loathing of other team’s supporters. Inwardly I have lost count the number of times I have resorted to fist clenching Schadenfreude whenever a rival team has lost.

From buying a child’s ticket for £3.50 at Pittodrie to standing inside a North London gastro pub watching the world’s best footballers on a plasma 3D screen. The quality of football available has definitely increased over the last nineteen years but what remains constant is the same masochistic desire for glory. Every football fan is a living anthology, a composite of many selves, although the one constant throughout their lives will be the team(s) they support. This universal feeling is no better illustrated than waking up on a lazy summer morning and realising the one thing you always took for granted is now missing.

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FC Barcelona: A 21st Century Portrait

03/14/2011 By in Sport Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 5 Comments

After watching the delights of Barcelona’s passing carousel against Arsenal last week, I sighed an enormous sigh of relief when they qualified for the last eight of the Champions League. For the idea of Barcelona not being crowned the best team of Europe doesn’t even bear thinking about. There is simply no team in the world that can play association football in such a mesmerising fashion and their poetic style only serves to illustrate their regal superiority. Barcelona’s movement and anticipation of the ball is absolutely breathtaking and even their last gasp defending is beautifully poised.

While I have admired their brilliance for years, it was only after watching Barca in a deserted Spanish restaurant that I fully grasped their iconic power. When Lionel Messi scored his improvised opener against Arsenal it bore all the hallmarks of an era defining side. Not so much the clinical passing or ingenious finishing but the uproarious Catalan crowd and their goal celebration afterwards. Barcelona’s insatiable desire to win and hatred of losing is truly fanatical and they make my own team Manchester United appear workmanlike and ordinary.

As while family and tribal loyalties will always ensure I want United to win every game. Barca’s religious brilliance is so compelling it would be a miscarriage of justice if they don’t win the Champions League. However, the cruelty of football is that some of the most brilliant sides in history don’t always get what they deserve. The horrifying spectre of a compact tactical team such as Real Madrid or Chelsea grinding out enough victories at the expense of Barcelona’s flamboyance is a fate that has befallen many a great side.

Manchester United legend Eric Cantona loved the classic Holland side of 1974 so much he wanted them to defeat his native France. Alas the magnificent Dutch side were unable to pass their way to World Cup glory thanks to a ruthlessly efficient German team. And while the pioneers of total football are still fondly remembered as one of the greatest sides of all time, the lack of silverware is something that must haunt the Dutch.

Holland’s attacking flair of the 1970s inspired millions of fans across the globe and likewise the sublime brilliance of Xavi, Iniesta and Messi are going to be remembered for decades to come. Barcelona’s majestic flair offers no guarantee of success and the La Liga leaders could easily end the season with nothing. This of course would be a familiar sporting tragedy but Barcelona are simply wonderful. The best team in the world whether they win it or not.

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