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And They Said It Was Just a Game

Football: the Perfect Metaphor of Our Time

Text Antonio Gómez Rufo Writer

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© Joedson Alves /AFP / Getty Images

Antonio Gómez Rufo wonders why football has become so universal to the point where it has ended up by being regarded as something more than a mere game. They said it was only a game, but the author argues that that is not so.

Football, which originally came into being as a recreational game, has attained a dimension comparable only to music or, on another plain, war human activities, when all is said and done, whose vicissitudes are followed by the inhabitants of the five continents with a very similar instinct, however different their cultural norms, ways of thinking and beliefs may be. There is little that can explain such a phenomenon, although many explanations have been put forward. But one thing is for sure: if Socrates, Kant, Hegel or Engels were alive today, they would study the two most universal mass phenomena: television and football. Reflecting on this, therefore, is not the job of fools and ignoramuses—a verdict that goes down well in certain old-fashioned intellectual circles—, but an obligation, among others, for any thinker of our time who does not live apart from society. 

       Football is a game, as chess is also a game. But its significance is far greater. And the example of chess is not accidental. Anyone who understands the characteristics of the game of football will appreciate that it is about tactics as much as strategy, anticipation as much as perception, mathematics as much as physics. In chess, games are won by capturing the king; in football, by possessing the lady in dispute. In both cases metaphorically, of course: no king is overthrown, nor is any lady possessed in football. But there is something of that in man’s (especially man’s) ancestral subconscious memory making them both games of conquest in which honour is put in a position as though it were really at stake. 

       I shall come back to this later. But for now it is important to state two facts that can hardly be refuted before affirming anything else. The first is that all Spaniards are followers of Real Madrid. The second is that, when talking about football in our country, it is impossible to do so reliably without taking Real Madrid as one’s intellectual reference point. And before the wolves begin to howl and these lines are added to the mess of crumpled sheets thrown into the waste paper basket, I shall clear up the two previous statements. 

       I said that in Spain, as well as in many other places, everyone is a follower of Real Madrid. It doesn’t matter whether you are talking about Andalusians, Castilians, Basques, Galicians, Catalans, Murcians or people from Peñaranda de Bracamonte. They (we) are all followers of Real Madrid. The only qualification, albeit anecdotal, is that some are for and some are against it. You can venerate, admire, hate or abhor, Real Madrid, but the only truth is that it does not leave anyone indifferent (and less than anyone, those who raise their voice to they couldn’t care less). Thousands of facts corroborate this, and the most significant thing is that if a Barcelona sports paper carries a report of a game which Barça has lost, it will never fail to run a subheadline mentioning that Real Madrid has also lost (if that is the case), as though that were a comfort. And of course it is! However, it is seldom accepted that we followers of Real Madrid are not anti-Barça, anti-Atlético, or anti-any other team. In the best of cases (as happens not at all infrequently) the team we criticise, rightly or wrongly, is our own, the one from which we hope for so much (because we love it so) that we have eyes for no-one else. And if we do, as has been demonstrated a thousand times, it is to applaud our rival’s good play. Many opposing teams have left the Bernabeu stadium to applause, even the ‘eternal rival’, Barcelona. Is it possible to imagine something like that happening in the Camp Nou? No, because Real Madrid doesn’t have any enemies, only sporting rivals. 

       At all events, nobody should be surprised by anything that has been said so far. Reality is obstinate and whatever the historical interpretation may be, the facts and the headlines tell us that Real Madrid is the best football club in the world. With its good and its bad periods, but the balance sheet is indisputable: the best football club in the history of football. 

       The second statement is as unquestionable as the first as far as the arguments on which it is based are concerned. If, when we think of Paris, the Eiffel Tower comes to mind; if, when we think of Valencia, it is the Fallas; if, when we think of Burgos, it is the cheese that bears the city’s name; if, when we think of Sicily, it is the mafia; if when we think of Manhattan, it is Woody Allen; and if, when we think of Madrid, it is the road works and the building works, when we think of football, the first thing that comes into our heads is Real Madrid. Any discussion about football sooner or later has an intellectual reference point – Real Madrid. It may be because the media cover any petty detail to do with the club as though it was of real interest or importance; but the fact of the matter is that this is how things are, so a disallowed goal, a penalty, a change of manager or a championship is judged and evaluated depending on Real Madrid’s involvement in it or in something similar. And this occurs in spite of the fact that most media are actually part of the core of Real Madrid followers who might be classified as anti-Real. But audiences are audiences, the market is the market and, to keep up interest, Real Madrid is irreplaceable. And if it is, there must be a reason for it. 

       It cannot be argued that Real Madrid was the team of the Francoist regime, as though the fact that Atlético de Madrid was once the team of the Spanish Air Force and Barcelona the team of that part of the Catalan bourgeoisie that enjoyed most protection under Francoism facilitated success in each and every country in the world, irrespective of any ideological component. And if such stupidity is accepted—a real aberration as far as intelligence is concerned—we would have to conclude that Barcelona won three trophies last year because the prime minister of Spain is a Barça fan. One thing is that sporadic acts of favouritism occur (such as Camp Nou never being closed in spite of having been suspended by the Competition Committee), or certain actions are ignored (such as showing Di Stefano that his team was Real Madrid, and nobody should try to confuse him on this score, as they have done with Iniesta, who is from Albacete). But nothing other than its playing and regularity (and also money, naturally) have made the history of any club. 

       And now the two main statements to be considered have been cleared up, all that remains is to reflect on why football has become so universal as to be regarded as something more than a mere game. Because they said it was just a game and that isn’t so. First it is a good idea to look at the definition of football given by that unforgettable mayor of Madrid, professor Tierno Galván, in his municipal edict of 11 June 1982, on the occasion of the World Cup: ‘Football, an English expression which in our common Castilian is equivalent to eleven skilful and outstanding athletes competing in the effort to move with their feet and heads an elastic ball, with sometimes disproportionate eagerness to make the ball enter the place attentively guarded by another team of eleven athletes, and vice versa’. What the professor and mayor knew was, sarcastically put, that the game consists in penetrating the virginity of an opening jealously guarded by the defenders of its virtue and honour, who, in turn, try to do exactly the same with the opposite opening. Sexual symbology, maybe. And perhaps it is that which has made a game that is not only a game, but an act of conquest by force or seduction by art, so universal. Because football appears to be an industry, but it is also commerce and, at certain moments, art. And if in addition it is the collective honour that is up for auction, the explanation becomes understandable.



Spring (April - June 2010)

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