There will be a World Cup where Canada advances farther than Germany.
Showing posts with label soccer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soccer. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 22, 2026
Wednesday, June 17, 2026
Things The Teenage Me Would Never Have Believed About Life In The Future, #49
There will be a World Cup where Italy does not qualify, but Curacao and Cabo Verde do. (Not to rub it in, but this echoes back to an entry from a few years ago.)
Monday, August 21, 2023
I’m Gonna Mess Your Mind
Congratulations to Spain on winning the women’s World Cup. They now join Germany as the only countries to win both World Cups. Meanwhile everyone’s world has been turned upside-down by the jump in parity in women’s soccer, leading to plenty of upsets and Cinderella teams.
Here in Canada, we’re in mourning; we won gold at the Olympics - in our greatest soccer achievement ever - but followed that up with not getting out of the opening round here. If you’re not familiar with it, in men’s soccer, the Olympics are limited to under 23, but for women, there’s no limit, so it’s like smaller a World Cup. So you’d think it would be harder to advance in the Olympics, where you’re playing higher quality teams sooner. And yet, Canada has gone to the Olympic semi-finals three times in a row, but only made the World Cup semis once, back in 2003.
But for much of the world, the big news is the early exit for the two-time defending champion Americans. If you watch the men’s World Cup, you know that favoured teams having an embarrassing run and going home early is a regular occurrence. But now supporters of the U.S. Women are in existential panic.
Years ago, I noted that it was weird but refreshing to watch the fans of American men’s soccer, because it was one of the few places where the United States was regarded as just another country. What was especially weird was that American fans seemed to be okay with that. To be fair, we’re only talking about a subset of Americans, since the majority don’t really follow soccer even when the U.S. is involved, but there is a subculture within the U.S. that cares about its team, even on the men’s side, and it’s remarkable what an internationally-reasonable attitude they have.
All that’s happening right now is that the U.S. Women’s team is going to have to take on that same attitude. While watching the hype surrounding the Americans going for a Women’s World Cup three-peat, I realized that the truly unusual thing about the Men’s team fandom is that it’s one of the only places where you’ll see Americans being patriotic, but not buying into American Exceptionalism. They’re proud of their country, they support their team, but they don’t think their country is inherently better or apart from the others. The women’s team will have to adopt that attitude. In their case, they’re a great team, but just a team. So it’s a subtle change, but they’ll have to go from thinking of themselves as the Harlem Globetrotters to merely the New York Yankees.
Watching Americans watch their Women’s team, it’s been more like business as usual for Americans in international sports, with even well-meaning Americans seeing their team as above everything else. Take advertising, for instance. Even here in Canada, we’re subjected to ads for American brands that glorify the American women, oblivious to the fact that they’re our chief rivals, and thus, not really who we want to see celebrated in every commercial break. It’s reminiscent of that one American you see on lists of the dumbest things said on the internet, asking a British person if they celebrate the Fourth of July.
Partly, this is because their Women’s team has been a boon for those looking for female role models. And finding role models for our kids is a universal thing, so they’re just assuming the whole world will join in on glorifying the stars of their team. It hasn’t occurred to them that if my daughter’s role model was just knocked out of the tournament by your daughter’s role model, then I won’t want to join in on the adulation.
And that brings us to the goodish news: you can look at this as another example of women’s soccer hitting the mainstream. When a sport starts out and creeps along in the margins of the sports world, there tends to be a communal feeling, like it’s all of us against the world, looking for acceptance of our sport. But once you’re in the mainstream, we can all think of it in competitive terms. This sport has finally made the big time, now that I hate your daughter’s role model.
Sunday, July 8, 2018
Check Republic
So Croatia has made it to the World Cup semi-finals. Good for them; I don’t have a connection to them, other than a Croatian community in KW, but it’s always good to see a country punch above their weight.
But watching them today, I found myself wondering: how did they come to own the checkerboard? They’ve kind of made it their thing. It’s on their uniforms — however subtly — and their flag, and their crest. They’ve decided that it is their symbol. Talk about punching above your weight: there are only so many patterns in the world, and they’ve decided to claim one of the basic ones.
I know, every country has its symbols. But a lot of the time, it’s something rare or unique. Here in Canada, we put the maple leaf on everything, but that’s something that you only get here or in the northern United States. There’s no one off in Burkina Faso who’s feeling cheated because they wanted to use it as their symbol.
It’s a wonder more countries don’t try this. Like why hasn’t anyone claimed polka dots? That might look weird, but you’d be distinctive. Surely that would be worth it to someone who doesn’t get a lot of the world’s attention. If you’re, say, Paraguay, you might figure it would be worth it to look a little ridiculous if it means that people think of you when they see polka dots.
I guess a few countries have just grabbed basic things as their symbol. Like Japan has taken the sun. Yes, there are lots of other countries that have the sun on their flag, but Japan just took it as their whole national identity. We’re the land of the rising sun. Yes, we know the sun rises everywhere, but we’re just going to put in on our flag and make it our nickname.
Now that I think about this, it could work. There are about 200 independent countries in the world, so I’m sure you could find 200 basic patterns and common elements that everyone could find one. Sure, Croatia acted first and grabbed checkerboards, but someone else can have lines. Okay, that’s too much like stripes, and everyone has stripes. How about wavy lines? Laos, do you want wavy lines? Papua New Guinea, you can have dotted-lines.
And someone could take clouds. They don’t have the life-giving worship-inspiring importance of the sun, but they are pretty universal. They could be like, we’re Estonia, and we’re the land of clouds. We re-drew the flag with a cloud on it, so now, when you look into the sky, you’ll think of us. Or Japan, depends what kind of day it is.
But watching them today, I found myself wondering: how did they come to own the checkerboard? They’ve kind of made it their thing. It’s on their uniforms — however subtly — and their flag, and their crest. They’ve decided that it is their symbol. Talk about punching above your weight: there are only so many patterns in the world, and they’ve decided to claim one of the basic ones.
I know, every country has its symbols. But a lot of the time, it’s something rare or unique. Here in Canada, we put the maple leaf on everything, but that’s something that you only get here or in the northern United States. There’s no one off in Burkina Faso who’s feeling cheated because they wanted to use it as their symbol.
It’s a wonder more countries don’t try this. Like why hasn’t anyone claimed polka dots? That might look weird, but you’d be distinctive. Surely that would be worth it to someone who doesn’t get a lot of the world’s attention. If you’re, say, Paraguay, you might figure it would be worth it to look a little ridiculous if it means that people think of you when they see polka dots.
I guess a few countries have just grabbed basic things as their symbol. Like Japan has taken the sun. Yes, there are lots of other countries that have the sun on their flag, but Japan just took it as their whole national identity. We’re the land of the rising sun. Yes, we know the sun rises everywhere, but we’re just going to put in on our flag and make it our nickname.
Now that I think about this, it could work. There are about 200 independent countries in the world, so I’m sure you could find 200 basic patterns and common elements that everyone could find one. Sure, Croatia acted first and grabbed checkerboards, but someone else can have lines. Okay, that’s too much like stripes, and everyone has stripes. How about wavy lines? Laos, do you want wavy lines? Papua New Guinea, you can have dotted-lines.
And someone could take clouds. They don’t have the life-giving worship-inspiring importance of the sun, but they are pretty universal. They could be like, we’re Estonia, and we’re the land of clouds. We re-drew the flag with a cloud on it, so now, when you look into the sky, you’ll think of us. Or Japan, depends what kind of day it is.
Saturday, June 30, 2018
Where I’m Coming From
Just before the World Cup started, I was trying to make small-talk, and mentioned that I have an English background, so that will explain why I may be in a bad mood for the next month. Bringing up that topic, I had assumed that others would chime in with their own reasons for cheering for a particular country. This being KW, I would expect that several people would smugly announce German heritage. Possibly one or two would just burst into tears, and I would assume they are Italian.
But instead, everyone seemed unsure. Rather than proudly state the allegiance, they were non-committal. People would say, yeah, I guess I have English roots so I could shout for them.
To be clear, I wasn’t expecting that everyone would be a fanatic for the source of their DNA. But I did expect that there was an understanding that in sports, particularly out-of-the-ordinary events, you pick someone to cheer for, and put on the die-hard fan act. Getting behind the home of your maternal grandfather for a month fits the bill. But no one I talked to looked at it that way. Having temporary allegiance to a country you have a flimsy connection to is a, well, a foreign concept.
Ethnicity is a weird thing here in Canada. You’ve got some people who are wrapped up in their family’s country of origin. But others have been here for generations, and don’t think of themselves as having any connection to other lands. I first noticed this in school when we were given an assignment to find out about our personal heritage. We had to list an ethnicity for each of our four grandparents. For me, the assignment was trivial: I just wrote “England” four times and handed the paper in.
Of course, I realized that most Canadians have a more diverse background. But I hadn’t realized that it would be much more difficult for others. The teacher had to encourage the students to ask around their families. He also had to explain — like he’d been through this before — that you can’t just write down “Canadian,” however far you have to go back to find something else.
I get the same sense watching all these commercials for genealogy services and genetic testing. They promote it as discovering your roots, with examples of people who have no idea what their heritage is. Sure, I had been shown that young kids were often pretty clueless about their origins, but I had naively assumed that by the time people got to adulthood, they had been filled in on their ethnic background. But apparently it’s enough of a mystery that people will pay good money to find out.
Of course, there’s a flip side to this: many people who take their heritage as a major part of their personal definition, often to the point of displacing their Canadian identity. Again, soccer is a place where we often see this. For years we’ve seen national flags on car windows during every World Cup. This year, I noticed that a kiosk in a mall was also selling hood flags. That is, a flag that wraps across the hood of your car, so you can show your allegiance even more forcefully, with the added benefit of not compromising your aerodynamics. I wasn’t sure if this idea would take off, but I’ve been seeing more of them over the course of the World Cup.
Canada’s national soccer teams — at least on the men’s side — are notorious for having difficulty getting home teams to cheer for them. Fans often cheer for the team of their ethnic origins, rather than the country they’re currently living in. That’s a situation that’s been debated to death in the past, so I won’t do it here. Instead, I’ll just point out how this illustrates Canadians’ diverse ways of dealing with ethnic affiliations. Some of us have completely lost touch with our roots, while others hold onto them no matter what.
I’m not sure what this means, or where it’s going to go in the future. I feel like Canada’s sense of identity is slowly getting stronger, despite the persistence of strong connections to other countries. Clearly it’s more complex than I had assumed.
But instead, everyone seemed unsure. Rather than proudly state the allegiance, they were non-committal. People would say, yeah, I guess I have English roots so I could shout for them.
To be clear, I wasn’t expecting that everyone would be a fanatic for the source of their DNA. But I did expect that there was an understanding that in sports, particularly out-of-the-ordinary events, you pick someone to cheer for, and put on the die-hard fan act. Getting behind the home of your maternal grandfather for a month fits the bill. But no one I talked to looked at it that way. Having temporary allegiance to a country you have a flimsy connection to is a, well, a foreign concept.
Ethnicity is a weird thing here in Canada. You’ve got some people who are wrapped up in their family’s country of origin. But others have been here for generations, and don’t think of themselves as having any connection to other lands. I first noticed this in school when we were given an assignment to find out about our personal heritage. We had to list an ethnicity for each of our four grandparents. For me, the assignment was trivial: I just wrote “England” four times and handed the paper in.
Of course, I realized that most Canadians have a more diverse background. But I hadn’t realized that it would be much more difficult for others. The teacher had to encourage the students to ask around their families. He also had to explain — like he’d been through this before — that you can’t just write down “Canadian,” however far you have to go back to find something else.
I get the same sense watching all these commercials for genealogy services and genetic testing. They promote it as discovering your roots, with examples of people who have no idea what their heritage is. Sure, I had been shown that young kids were often pretty clueless about their origins, but I had naively assumed that by the time people got to adulthood, they had been filled in on their ethnic background. But apparently it’s enough of a mystery that people will pay good money to find out.
Of course, there’s a flip side to this: many people who take their heritage as a major part of their personal definition, often to the point of displacing their Canadian identity. Again, soccer is a place where we often see this. For years we’ve seen national flags on car windows during every World Cup. This year, I noticed that a kiosk in a mall was also selling hood flags. That is, a flag that wraps across the hood of your car, so you can show your allegiance even more forcefully, with the added benefit of not compromising your aerodynamics. I wasn’t sure if this idea would take off, but I’ve been seeing more of them over the course of the World Cup.
Canada’s national soccer teams — at least on the men’s side — are notorious for having difficulty getting home teams to cheer for them. Fans often cheer for the team of their ethnic origins, rather than the country they’re currently living in. That’s a situation that’s been debated to death in the past, so I won’t do it here. Instead, I’ll just point out how this illustrates Canadians’ diverse ways of dealing with ethnic affiliations. Some of us have completely lost touch with our roots, while others hold onto them no matter what.
I’m not sure what this means, or where it’s going to go in the future. I feel like Canada’s sense of identity is slowly getting stronger, despite the persistence of strong connections to other countries. Clearly it’s more complex than I had assumed.
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
Things The Teenage Me Would Never Have Believed About Life In The Future, #38
There will be a World Cup where Iceland qualifies but not Italy.
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
Soccer Shorts
Can we please notice that soccer players are short? I keep hearing reporters - at least on this side of the Atlantic - marvel that such and such a player is successful despite their lack of height. How can you be surprised: most of the people working in sports journalism are old enough to remember Maradona, who was famously short. Here in Canada there's no excuse, since Toronto FC's star player, Sebastian Giovinco, is 5'4", and nicknamed "The Atomic Ant" just in case it wasn’t obvious enough.
But this obliviousness reached new heights (pun not intended) today. I actually heard someone say that an up-and-coming player is considered "the next Messi" despite being only 5'7." Go on, guess how tall Messi is.
And these are hardly obscure examples. Many of the greatest players of all time were below average height.
So I guess there is an advantage to shorter players. A lower centre of gravity will give greater agility, and that’s more of an advantage - at least for these offensive players - than the height needed to get to a header. Sure, some players do use height to their advantage (hello, Peter Crouch.)
So there can be a physical advantage to being smaller, and I can hang on to my fantasy that shorter people are taking over sports. Isaiah Thomas (5’9”) has emerged as a basketball star, José Altuve (5'6") is leading the best team in baseball, and honorary short person Russell Wilson (5'11") has a Super Bowl ring. So don’t look down, tall people, because we could be gaining on you.
But this obliviousness reached new heights (pun not intended) today. I actually heard someone say that an up-and-coming player is considered "the next Messi" despite being only 5'7." Go on, guess how tall Messi is.
And these are hardly obscure examples. Many of the greatest players of all time were below average height.
| Pele | 5'8" |
| Maradona | 5'5" |
| Romario | 5'5.5" |
| Bobby Charlton | 5'8" |
| Gheorghe Hagi | 5'7.5" |
| Roberto Baggio | 5'8.5" |
| Garrincha | 5'6.5" |
So I guess there is an advantage to shorter players. A lower centre of gravity will give greater agility, and that’s more of an advantage - at least for these offensive players - than the height needed to get to a header. Sure, some players do use height to their advantage (hello, Peter Crouch.)
So there can be a physical advantage to being smaller, and I can hang on to my fantasy that shorter people are taking over sports. Isaiah Thomas (5’9”) has emerged as a basketball star, José Altuve (5'6") is leading the best team in baseball, and honorary short person Russell Wilson (5'11") has a Super Bowl ring. So don’t look down, tall people, because we could be gaining on you.
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
Smallball
Last night, while I couldn't sleep, I discovered TSN was showing Futsal, the indoor form of soccer. For those of us of a certain age who remember indoor soccer in North America, no, this isn't the same thing. It's played on a something akin to a basketball court, with hard surface, small dimensions and no walls.
Why doesn't this happen more often? After all, TSN has five channels, they don't all have to show endless repeats of SportsCentre all night. I assume the Canadian rights to the Futsal World Cup didn't cost much. It was probably less than TSN pays the guy who keeps pressing the button to replay SportsCentre all night. Why not show unusual sports from elsewhere in the world: This particular game was Morocco vs. Azerbaijan, which adds to the sense that I've stepped into a parallel earth.
I have to say, it's a pretty entertaining sport. It's fast-moving, there's a lot of individual skill involved, and the tactics are easier to see than they are in regular soccer. I guess you can think of this as like Arena Football: a concentrated version of the big sport. If you're willing to stretch the concept a little, there are several other sports that are "mini" versions of other sports:
Looking at what they mostly have in common, it would seem that the general idea is:
I wonder if other sports could use a small version. Basketball is already a small indoor sport, so I don't think you could apply the formula there. Mini baseball? You'd have to create a way of preventing the ball from going far; perhaps use a badminton shuttlecock.
As for hockey, it could use a small version. A while back I saw an article about how the TV ratings for hockey in the US were not much better than those of Arena Football. That made me wonder: if you invented a smaller version of hockey, one more easily marketed to Americans, could it get bigger than hockey? If it was, you could pay more than NHL teams, and start drawing players away. And so that's been my fantasy that I go back to whenever the sport's dark side shows up: destroying not just the NHL, but the whole sport, and forcing Canada's beloved hockey heroes to play by my dorky rules for the benefit of Americans.
But putting aside my sports business revenge fantasies, I think you could make a fun alternate version of hockey on a basketball/futsal sized court (so presumably on rollerblades.) I'm thinking:
It'll be like watching the All-Star game all the time. Fans of physical play won't like it, but it should be entertaining. Any crazy Canadian billionaires out there interested in bankrolling it?
Why doesn't this happen more often? After all, TSN has five channels, they don't all have to show endless repeats of SportsCentre all night. I assume the Canadian rights to the Futsal World Cup didn't cost much. It was probably less than TSN pays the guy who keeps pressing the button to replay SportsCentre all night. Why not show unusual sports from elsewhere in the world: This particular game was Morocco vs. Azerbaijan, which adds to the sense that I've stepped into a parallel earth.
I have to say, it's a pretty entertaining sport. It's fast-moving, there's a lot of individual skill involved, and the tactics are easier to see than they are in regular soccer. I guess you can think of this as like Arena Football: a concentrated version of the big sport. If you're willing to stretch the concept a little, there are several other sports that are "mini" versions of other sports:
- volleyball - beach volleyball
- tennis - table tennis
- speed skating - short track speed skating
- Rugby - Rugby Sevens
Looking at what they mostly have in common, it would seem that the general idea is:
- fewer players
- less space
- less time
- faster action and quicker reaction times
- common sense fixes that can't be made in the big sport because of tradition
I wonder if other sports could use a small version. Basketball is already a small indoor sport, so I don't think you could apply the formula there. Mini baseball? You'd have to create a way of preventing the ball from going far; perhaps use a badminton shuttlecock.
As for hockey, it could use a small version. A while back I saw an article about how the TV ratings for hockey in the US were not much better than those of Arena Football. That made me wonder: if you invented a smaller version of hockey, one more easily marketed to Americans, could it get bigger than hockey? If it was, you could pay more than NHL teams, and start drawing players away. And so that's been my fantasy that I go back to whenever the sport's dark side shows up: destroying not just the NHL, but the whole sport, and forcing Canada's beloved hockey heroes to play by my dorky rules for the benefit of Americans.
But putting aside my sports business revenge fantasies, I think you could make a fun alternate version of hockey on a basketball/futsal sized court (so presumably on rollerblades.) I'm thinking:
- three-on-three
- much shorter periods
- smaller rosters
- bigger nets
It'll be like watching the All-Star game all the time. Fans of physical play won't like it, but it should be entertaining. Any crazy Canadian billionaires out there interested in bankrolling it?
Sunday, August 14, 2016
Hey Germany, We Need A New Word
So Schadenfreude is the word for enjoyment of another person's pain. Presumably, that's the pain of someone you don't like. So I'm wondering of there's a word for a kind of reverse situation:
What I mean is, with Schadenfreude, there's someone you don't like, and then you see them experience misfortune, which gives you joy. But what if you see someone experience misfortune, then they do something that makes you dislike them, thus allowing you to enjoy their misfortune?
I suggest we call this a "Hope Solo." This weekend, much of the world got the chance to experience it, when Solo followed up the U.S. Women's Soccer team's early exit from the Olympics with an unsporting insult of the victorious Swedes. So lots of people became retroactively glad they were gone.
It seems many people around the world have an affinity for the American Women's Team. Sure, few non-Americans like cheering for the U. S. of A, but the success of this particular team bodes well for two of humanity's long-term projects: equality for women, and getting Americans to like soccer. You want to feel good about the few women who get to live the life of the American athletic idol.
But the fact is, they've been a hard team team to like. Here in Canada, we're still bitter about the last Olympics, when star Abby Wambach bullied the ref into calling the never-enforced-in-history time limit on goalies handling the ball. It was a perplexing moment: really, you're the best in the world, and you still have to resort to that? Indeed, before allowing the winning penalty kick against Sweden, Solo held up the proceedings to change gloves, in a rather transparent moment of gamesmanship. The American women bring to mind the Belichick-era New England Patriots: Admirable for their success, but also seeming like an inhuman machine.
Anyway, I was going to write more about people being angry about Solo's remarks, so I scrolled through Canadian news and sports sites looking for condemnation of her. But it turns out all the coverage of soccer here just briefly mention Solo and then talk about Canada beating France and facing Germany in the semis. So I guess I should let it go; after all, we still have another game to play.
What I mean is, with Schadenfreude, there's someone you don't like, and then you see them experience misfortune, which gives you joy. But what if you see someone experience misfortune, then they do something that makes you dislike them, thus allowing you to enjoy their misfortune?
I suggest we call this a "Hope Solo." This weekend, much of the world got the chance to experience it, when Solo followed up the U.S. Women's Soccer team's early exit from the Olympics with an unsporting insult of the victorious Swedes. So lots of people became retroactively glad they were gone.
It seems many people around the world have an affinity for the American Women's Team. Sure, few non-Americans like cheering for the U. S. of A, but the success of this particular team bodes well for two of humanity's long-term projects: equality for women, and getting Americans to like soccer. You want to feel good about the few women who get to live the life of the American athletic idol.
But the fact is, they've been a hard team team to like. Here in Canada, we're still bitter about the last Olympics, when star Abby Wambach bullied the ref into calling the never-enforced-in-history time limit on goalies handling the ball. It was a perplexing moment: really, you're the best in the world, and you still have to resort to that? Indeed, before allowing the winning penalty kick against Sweden, Solo held up the proceedings to change gloves, in a rather transparent moment of gamesmanship. The American women bring to mind the Belichick-era New England Patriots: Admirable for their success, but also seeming like an inhuman machine.
Anyway, I was going to write more about people being angry about Solo's remarks, so I scrolled through Canadian news and sports sites looking for condemnation of her. But it turns out all the coverage of soccer here just briefly mention Solo and then talk about Canada beating France and facing Germany in the semis. So I guess I should let it go; after all, we still have another game to play.
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Fleet Foxes
Do you know someone from England, or perhaps a sports fan with an interest in international sports? Are you confused as to why they're suddenly raving about some guy named Lester? Allow me to explain:
In European soccer leagues, there are usually several divisions, in a hierarchy. At the end of each season, the top few teams in each division are "promoted" - allowed into the next division up next season. The bottom few teams are "relegated" - moved down to the next lowest division for the next season. To win the overall championship, you have to finish first in the top division - there are no playoffs.
Also, in sharp contrast to American sports leagues, there are no measures to help teams that are unsuccessful either on or off the field. Revenue sharing, salary caps, drafts, limited free agency, luxury taxes, tampering rules - they've got none of them.
So generally, each country has a small number of teams that stay at the top of the top division because they have all the money. Take for instance, England's top division, the Premier League. Over the last 24 years, only four teams have won it.
And this is why this year has been so remarkable. Leicester (pronounced "Lester", nicknamed "The Foxes") was only just able to avoid relegation last year. Coming into this season, they were 5,000 to 1 longshots. As many people have been pointing out, British bookies will give you the same odds that the Loch Ness Monster will be found. But they had a miraculous year, leading most of the season. When second place Tottenham failed to beat Chelsea today, Leicester clinched first place.
This could be a new era of competitiveness in English soccer. At the very least, everyone has some hope today. Now your wildest dreams have some foundation, as you know an underdog really can break through. But it's bittersweet for me. See, at the same time I'm cheering on Leicester righteously slaying the game's elites, I'm also mourning my family's team.
Aston Villa, the dominant team of England's West Midlands, is going to be relegated. Since the modern creation of England's Premier League in 1992, they were one of only seven teams that had never been relegated to the lower divisions. But no more. They're in last place, with no mathematical chance getting high enough to avoid relegation this year.
An unwillingness to spend on players, an inability to groom young players fast enough, and a revolving door of coaching has caught up with them. After years of being mediocre, or just "not terrible," the bottom fell out and they won just three games out of thirty-six. Yes, we should have seen this coming when the team was bought by the guy who owns the Cleveland Browns.
So at a time when my family should be optimistic, we're feeling hopeless. At a time when the whole world is looking at the Premier League standings, we're right there at the bottom. If the league were Good Will Hunting, we'd be Ben Affleck to Leicester's Matt Damon. So we'll just have to use this new optimism to believe that we'll be back to the Premier League again soon. Or we'll just resort to the usual dream, for a new billionaire owner who'll spend his way to the top.
In European soccer leagues, there are usually several divisions, in a hierarchy. At the end of each season, the top few teams in each division are "promoted" - allowed into the next division up next season. The bottom few teams are "relegated" - moved down to the next lowest division for the next season. To win the overall championship, you have to finish first in the top division - there are no playoffs.
Also, in sharp contrast to American sports leagues, there are no measures to help teams that are unsuccessful either on or off the field. Revenue sharing, salary caps, drafts, limited free agency, luxury taxes, tampering rules - they've got none of them.
So generally, each country has a small number of teams that stay at the top of the top division because they have all the money. Take for instance, England's top division, the Premier League. Over the last 24 years, only four teams have won it.
And this is why this year has been so remarkable. Leicester (pronounced "Lester", nicknamed "The Foxes") was only just able to avoid relegation last year. Coming into this season, they were 5,000 to 1 longshots. As many people have been pointing out, British bookies will give you the same odds that the Loch Ness Monster will be found. But they had a miraculous year, leading most of the season. When second place Tottenham failed to beat Chelsea today, Leicester clinched first place.
 | |
| This title is being listed among all-time upsets |
This could be a new era of competitiveness in English soccer. At the very least, everyone has some hope today. Now your wildest dreams have some foundation, as you know an underdog really can break through. But it's bittersweet for me. See, at the same time I'm cheering on Leicester righteously slaying the game's elites, I'm also mourning my family's team.
Aston Villa, the dominant team of England's West Midlands, is going to be relegated. Since the modern creation of England's Premier League in 1992, they were one of only seven teams that had never been relegated to the lower divisions. But no more. They're in last place, with no mathematical chance getting high enough to avoid relegation this year.
 |
| Blue, the Aston Villa bear, says wait 'til next year |
So at a time when my family should be optimistic, we're feeling hopeless. At a time when the whole world is looking at the Premier League standings, we're right there at the bottom. If the league were Good Will Hunting, we'd be Ben Affleck to Leicester's Matt Damon. So we'll just have to use this new optimism to believe that we'll be back to the Premier League again soon. Or we'll just resort to the usual dream, for a new billionaire owner who'll spend his way to the top.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Things the Teenage Me Would Never Have Believed About Life In The Future, #26
Manchester United's shirts advertise Chevrolet. Juventus shirts advertise Jeep.
Friday, June 19, 2015
Soccer Stars
You may have seen this week that a new galaxy has been named after Cristiano Ronaldo. Well, it’s technically named “CR7” which is his nickname/brandname, combining his initials and number. As you may know, he’s one of the sports megastars with his own symbol, which is a stylized CR7.
It's bad enough that we confuse him with Ronaldo, now we have a galaxy in his honour too. And there are so many galaxies out there that Ronaldo will eventually get his own, and that will surely lead to a massive war centuries from now.
And that's what's weird about this. For a while now they've been naming asteroids after people, and that seems reasonable. You're a good person; here, have a big rock. But galaxies? It may seem like a little smudge on the lens from our perspective, but it is a collection of billions of stars and planets. The billion-year-old collective experience of entire civilizations, and we named it after the second-best soccer player of his generation.
(Speaking of which, there's a list of major galaxies and other astronomical phenomena called the Messier objects. I tried to make a "Messi-eh" joke, couldn't make it work.)
Now really, this is unlikely to be a problem. If humanity survives and advances to the point where we could ever get to the Ronaldo galaxy, it will surely be so far into the future that our current names for things will be long forgotten. But who knows. In the same way we still use the name America long after we’ve forgotten what was so great about Amerigo Vespucci, these names could survive.
Sure, it may seem like there are lots of things out there to name after people. It’s estimated that there are far more galaxies out there than people on Earth, so we could afford to hand out galaxy names just for remembering to do a shoulder-check changing lanes. But if we were to expand through the cosmos, we’d run out of galaxies to name after ourselves, and then we’d regret wasting a bunch of them on athletes. "Well, Zartog, we appreciate your single-handedly saving the Stellar Alliance from the Jarfan raiders of the Beckham Galaxy, but we ran out of unnamed galaxies a few years ago. Here, have a rock."
It's bad enough that we confuse him with Ronaldo, now we have a galaxy in his honour too. And there are so many galaxies out there that Ronaldo will eventually get his own, and that will surely lead to a massive war centuries from now.
And that's what's weird about this. For a while now they've been naming asteroids after people, and that seems reasonable. You're a good person; here, have a big rock. But galaxies? It may seem like a little smudge on the lens from our perspective, but it is a collection of billions of stars and planets. The billion-year-old collective experience of entire civilizations, and we named it after the second-best soccer player of his generation.
(Speaking of which, there's a list of major galaxies and other astronomical phenomena called the Messier objects. I tried to make a "Messi-eh" joke, couldn't make it work.)
Now really, this is unlikely to be a problem. If humanity survives and advances to the point where we could ever get to the Ronaldo galaxy, it will surely be so far into the future that our current names for things will be long forgotten. But who knows. In the same way we still use the name America long after we’ve forgotten what was so great about Amerigo Vespucci, these names could survive.
Sure, it may seem like there are lots of things out there to name after people. It’s estimated that there are far more galaxies out there than people on Earth, so we could afford to hand out galaxy names just for remembering to do a shoulder-check changing lanes. But if we were to expand through the cosmos, we’d run out of galaxies to name after ourselves, and then we’d regret wasting a bunch of them on athletes. "Well, Zartog, we appreciate your single-handedly saving the Stellar Alliance from the Jarfan raiders of the Beckham Galaxy, but we ran out of unnamed galaxies a few years ago. Here, have a rock."
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Corrupted File
The world's media has been buzzing about the FIFA officials arrested for corruption. And apparently a lot of the legal work was done by the Americans, even though they are hardly FIFA's most important market. Of course, that could be because they have some objectivity and distance from the problem, sort of like how hockey agent Alan Eagleson's crimes were exposed and charged in the U.S. rather than Canada. Perhaps the Americans could rent themselves out going after corruption in sports they don't care about. I'm hoping they'll tackle Formula One next, and I hear Cricket has some problems too.
And now the story gets stranger. Well, it was stage to begin with that everyone in the organization is on the take and President Sepp Blatter was supposedly not involved, and didn't even know anything bad was going on. But now it's time for the next election for the organization's president. Blatter is not only still running, he's still likely to win.
Each country's national soccer association gets a vote for President. The media is trying desperately to explain how much of the world (largely the non-Western world) will be giving another term to this guy. The reason is usually given that he's been good to the developing world. After all, he did oversee the World Cup coming to Africa.
But quick look at a map of corruption problems shows a disturbing correlation between areas that support Blatter and areas that have corrupt governments. A better way to explain his continued support is this: the sort of person who somehow got a cushy, high-paying job from a corrupt government is the sort of person who supports Sepp Blatter.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Welcome Hot Qatar
This week, FIFA announced that the World Cup in 2022 - already awarded to Qatar - would be in the winter. Normally, the World Cup is in the summer, but that will be a problem in Qatar. If you're not familiar with it, Qatar is a peninsula in the Persian Gulf, so it combines the oppressive heat of a desert with oppressive humidity too.
What's wrong with having the World Cup in December? It's because most of the places where soccer is really popular are also places where winter is either mild or non-existent. That means that the biggest soccer leagues, employers of the best players, are active over the winter.
Of course, here in Canada, we're used to the National Hockey League shutting down mid-season for the Olympics, so we might not be sympathetic. But the Olympic hockey tournament is less than two weeks, while the World cup is a whole month. And international soccer is already full of extra tournaments, cups and international games.
So you have to wonder what FIFA was thinking when they awarded the games to Qatar. My suspicion is that they were thinking, "What am I going to spend all this bribe money on?" (I have no evidence for this, and am just being cynical, please don't sue me Mr. Blatter.) The media has mostly been reporting this as just such a mystery: as though FIFA awarded the tournament without considering the obvious climate problems.
But those of us with memories will recall that at the time of the awarding, we were assured that Qatar had technology to cool their stadiums to reasonable temperatures, even open-air stadiums. However, those promises have been quietly forgotten, and FIFA and Qatari organizers have been presenting the problem as an intractable situation that can only be solved by changing the tournament's timing.
So good on the BBC's website for actually remembering the proposed air conditioning, and bringing up the topic. It seems it can be done, at least on a small scale, but doing it on a huge stadium is going to be expensive and environmentally irresponsible. That would violate some of FIFA's other commitments to sustainability.
So it looks like FIFA didn't think it all through completely. Either that, or the cooling claims were just a smokescreen to get the tournament approved. Or they're all distracted planning vacations with the bribe money, for which I still have no evidence.
What's wrong with having the World Cup in December? It's because most of the places where soccer is really popular are also places where winter is either mild or non-existent. That means that the biggest soccer leagues, employers of the best players, are active over the winter.
Of course, here in Canada, we're used to the National Hockey League shutting down mid-season for the Olympics, so we might not be sympathetic. But the Olympic hockey tournament is less than two weeks, while the World cup is a whole month. And international soccer is already full of extra tournaments, cups and international games.
So you have to wonder what FIFA was thinking when they awarded the games to Qatar. My suspicion is that they were thinking, "What am I going to spend all this bribe money on?" (I have no evidence for this, and am just being cynical, please don't sue me Mr. Blatter.) The media has mostly been reporting this as just such a mystery: as though FIFA awarded the tournament without considering the obvious climate problems.
But those of us with memories will recall that at the time of the awarding, we were assured that Qatar had technology to cool their stadiums to reasonable temperatures, even open-air stadiums. However, those promises have been quietly forgotten, and FIFA and Qatari organizers have been presenting the problem as an intractable situation that can only be solved by changing the tournament's timing.
So good on the BBC's website for actually remembering the proposed air conditioning, and bringing up the topic. It seems it can be done, at least on a small scale, but doing it on a huge stadium is going to be expensive and environmentally irresponsible. That would violate some of FIFA's other commitments to sustainability.
So it looks like FIFA didn't think it all through completely. Either that, or the cooling claims were just a smokescreen to get the tournament approved. Or they're all distracted planning vacations with the bribe money, for which I still have no evidence.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
The Face-Lifted Game
Earlier in the World Cup, Bill Nye The Science Guy got into trouble on Twitter for suggesting some changes to soccer. These fell into the stereotypical criticisms of the sport from non-fans, like calls to create more offence. So soccer fans weren't convinced.
I'm far from an expert, but I do have some experience with the game, so I think I'm in a better position to critique it. And I claim that I'm enough of an outsider to see the sport with objectivity that the vast majority of the world's fans won't have. So, as the perfect person to judge, here are the things I'd like to see changed:
It's an example of a rule that was laid-out primarily to be fair to the players, with no consideration for whether it could be enforced; they'd be better off having a rule that is imperfect but enforceable.
So I say:
Again, this is a rule that's fair, but too hard to enforce. We need a simpler-to-interpret concept. I've heard the suggestion that it should be a foul for any arm-ball contact, intentional or not; essentially putting the onus on players to not let the ball touch their arms. That seems to swing too far in the easy-to-enforce direction. And no one wants to see defenders running around the penalty area with their arms behind their backs.
A couple of possibilities:
What's interesting is how attitudes have diverged. In hockey, most fans love the fighting, and couldn't imagine the sport without it, while in other sports - even similarly violent sports - hockey's acceptance of fighting is seen as strange and inexplicable.
It seems to me that diving in soccer is on the cusp of such acceptability. Diving happens in all sports, but in most it's seen as unacceptable, and something - whether rules or just referees' skepticism - stops it from getting too commonplace.
In soccer too, diving is generally considered a bad thing, but I've noticed a creeping acceptance of it. Players practice it at the behest of coaches. Fans defending the sport to non-fans have started implying that it is a sort of skill. And don't even get me started about how big a part of the sport it's become in Central America.
Something needs to be done now before some charismatic Italian soccer analyst starts convincing fans that it's an integral part of the game. I would hope that adding the second ref (see above) would help. But I think the best change that could be made would be retroactive justice. So many dives are obvious on replay; I'm not asking for gridiron-football-style replays during the game - that would slow things down far too much in a sport that had no natural breaks. But throw the book at people after the game.
I'm far from an expert, but I do have some experience with the game, so I think I'm in a better position to critique it. And I claim that I'm enough of an outsider to see the sport with objectivity that the vast majority of the world's fans won't have. So, as the perfect person to judge, here are the things I'd like to see changed:
Get a blue line
Okay, it probably shouldn't actually be blue, but I mean a hockey-style blue line. The fact is, the current soccer offside rule is just about the worst-called rule in any sport. I don't think the linesmen even do much better than chance. It's not hard to see why: for one thing, they have to keep track of the relative positioning of moving objects, while a hockey linesman can just look along the blue line. And worse, the assistant referee has to judge the relative position of players, at the time the ball is passed from another position altogether. While sports officiating is impossible to get perfect, this is one rule where it's not even humanly possible to be good at it.It's an example of a rule that was laid-out primarily to be fair to the players, with no consideration for whether it could be enforced; they'd be better off having a rule that is imperfect but enforceable.
Change penalties
For the most part, soccer's free-kick system is fair: because a foul in an important part of the field results in a kick from the same important part of the field, it seems just. But with penalties, not so much. Other than certain English players we could name, a penalty is a de facto automatic goal. But most things that penalties are awarded for are not worth that much. To put it another way, is hard to blame players for diving in the box, when the reward for trying to draw a penalty is much greater than the reward of a scoring chance by staying on their feet.So I say:
- Narrow the area. Fouling someone halfway to the corner flag isn't worth a penalty.
- Move the spot back. Far enough that the goalie can react to the shot instead of having to guess.
Get a clock
The "referee's watch" approach to time keeping adds nothing to the game, but does open itself up to epidemic exploitation. So figure out how long, on average, the actual play of a soccer game lasts, and set the clock to that, stopping it whenever play stops, as in basketball or hockey.Redefine handballs
The sport's most famous and most basic rule is also one of its most poorly defined. Handballs aren't supposed to be called if they are unintentional. Yet you still see it called against players who clearly didn't have time to move their arms.Again, this is a rule that's fair, but too hard to enforce. We need a simpler-to-interpret concept. I've heard the suggestion that it should be a foul for any arm-ball contact, intentional or not; essentially putting the onus on players to not let the ball touch their arms. That seems to swing too far in the easy-to-enforce direction. And no one wants to see defenders running around the penalty area with their arms behind their backs.
A couple of possibilities:
- Say that players have a right to keep their arms by their sides, and no handballs are called if their arms are in that position, regardless of intent. On the other hand, it's automatically handball if their arms are in any other position.
- Base it on movement. Sort of like blocking/charging fouls in basketball, as long as the player's arm had come to a complete stop, there's no handball if the arm contacts the ball. But any case of a moving arm touching the ball is handball.
A new way to break ties
One of the most common and universal complaints is the use of penalties to break ties. How many problems are there with that?- It's mostly random
- Lesser teams know it's not skill-based, so they play for ties
- It's an individual skill in a profoundly team-oriented support.
Two referees
Hockey - a similar sport-religion - made the decision to add a second ref a few years ago. In that case, it was mainly a concession to higher-speeds and the greater body-contact that comes of bigger players. Soccer hasn't really been through such a change, but the epidemic of fakery and missed calls has demonstrated that one person simply can't competently officiate the game. Since professional and international games already have a fourth official, it wouldn't be difficult to do.Get tough on diving
Speaking of hockey, people from outside Canada are always asking about why it has fighting in it. But the real question is, why is fighting tolerated? After all, all sports have fighting occasionally; but most of them have consequences that prevent it from happening often. I don't know how it happened, but in most of the world's sports someone, sometime, decided fighting was not acceptable, while hockey said, ah why not?What's interesting is how attitudes have diverged. In hockey, most fans love the fighting, and couldn't imagine the sport without it, while in other sports - even similarly violent sports - hockey's acceptance of fighting is seen as strange and inexplicable.
It seems to me that diving in soccer is on the cusp of such acceptability. Diving happens in all sports, but in most it's seen as unacceptable, and something - whether rules or just referees' skepticism - stops it from getting too commonplace.
In soccer too, diving is generally considered a bad thing, but I've noticed a creeping acceptance of it. Players practice it at the behest of coaches. Fans defending the sport to non-fans have started implying that it is a sort of skill. And don't even get me started about how big a part of the sport it's become in Central America.
Something needs to be done now before some charismatic Italian soccer analyst starts convincing fans that it's an integral part of the game. I would hope that adding the second ref (see above) would help. But I think the best change that could be made would be retroactive justice. So many dives are obvious on replay; I'm not asking for gridiron-football-style replays during the game - that would slow things down far too much in a sport that had no natural breaks. But throw the book at people after the game.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
What An Impressive Loss
I already noted that the Brazilians have surprised me with their lack of enthusiasm for the billions spent on the World Cup. Now they've impressed me with their ability to take a loss. It can't be easy to take an embarrassing loss, in the sport that means the most to them, at home, while the world is watching. Here in Canada, we've lost at hockey, but at least we know no one else cares.
As the game was going on, I saw numerous tweets worrying of violence on the streets in Brazil, as people take out their frustrations. But that doesn't seem to have materialized. I saw one TV report that mentioned fear of violence, given the protests against the World Cup. That seemed like odd reasoning: there's been violence over government spending, so there'll be violence over losing a soccer game.
So maybe that's why the Brazilians have been able to deal with the loss more maturely: they've been forced to examine their priorities. There were lots of sad people on the streets, but most were keeping it in perspective. Again, I don't think we in Canada compare well, considering Vancouver's riots over their Stanley Cup loss a few years ago.
As the game was going on, I saw numerous tweets worrying of violence on the streets in Brazil, as people take out their frustrations. But that doesn't seem to have materialized. I saw one TV report that mentioned fear of violence, given the protests against the World Cup. That seemed like odd reasoning: there's been violence over government spending, so there'll be violence over losing a soccer game.
So maybe that's why the Brazilians have been able to deal with the loss more maturely: they've been forced to examine their priorities. There were lots of sad people on the streets, but most were keeping it in perspective. Again, I don't think we in Canada compare well, considering Vancouver's riots over their Stanley Cup loss a few years ago.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Let's Agree You Disagree
Like most people, I hate it when people disagree with me. But it actually bothers me more when people disagree with themselves. We've seen an example of that in the World Cup. Brazilian star Neymar is out of the tournament with a fractured vertebra. Since he sustained the injury getting kneed in the back by a Colombian player, we're now hearing complaints that referees aren't doing enough to protect the star players. We know that teams focus their defense on such star players, and there seems to be a blurry line between "playing physical defense" and "hoping for a lucky injury."
I welcome the concern for players' welfare, as well as the acknowledgement that talented players make the game entertaining. But while I may agree with these urging a crackdown on rough play, I doubt that the people doing the urging agree. If you listen to sports people talk long enough, you'll notice that for every claim that talented players aren't protected, there are at least ten pleas to "let them play," keep the game physical, let the defense do its job, or other polite ways of asking for the rules to not be enforced.
Nobody seems to realize that there is no easy or obvious solution here. We have to find a balance between physical play and player safety, or between empowering the defense and letting the offensive stars perform. If you want the stars protected, you have to learn to bite your tongue when the game is slowed by the referee's calls. Or, if you want a sport that doesn't really have rules, you have to expect that star players are going to get injured. If only we could get more countries to watch hockey, they'd understand this.
I welcome the concern for players' welfare, as well as the acknowledgement that talented players make the game entertaining. But while I may agree with these urging a crackdown on rough play, I doubt that the people doing the urging agree. If you listen to sports people talk long enough, you'll notice that for every claim that talented players aren't protected, there are at least ten pleas to "let them play," keep the game physical, let the defense do its job, or other polite ways of asking for the rules to not be enforced.
Nobody seems to realize that there is no easy or obvious solution here. We have to find a balance between physical play and player safety, or between empowering the defense and letting the offensive stars perform. If you want the stars protected, you have to learn to bite your tongue when the game is slowed by the referee's calls. Or, if you want a sport that doesn't really have rules, you have to expect that star players are going to get injured. If only we could get more countries to watch hockey, they'd understand this.
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
An Exceptional Game
The USA was knocked out of the World Cup today. That's a shame; I was cheering for them. That was partly out of the novelty of American underdogs, and to represent North America well on the world stage.
The US in soccer is always surreal, but it seemed extra weird this time around as Americans started to take notice, and even care about their team.
Of course, you don't want to read too much into the fandom of one tournament. Ann Coulter's screed against soccer has made the rounds of the internet, with much laughter at its Colbert-esque hyperbole. This article in The Atlantic is more analytic, but also bites off more than it can chew by paralleling soccer and Obama support. But it does summarize the uniqueness of soccer amongst American sports: it's not the sport itself, but America's place in it. The US is just another country in soccer, not unique or dominant. Today's massive clash was against Belgium. Where else had the US ever been on even terms with Belgium? And their nemesis over the last three World Cups has been Ghana.
This may not seem like a big shift, but it's remarkable how unusual it is for Americans to see themselves as being on a level with other countries. We have a tendency to think American exceptionalism is exclusively practiced by far-right thinkers like Coulter. But really, the attitude infects all parts of the political spectrum, with the more international-friendly pundits seeing themselves as friendly but still special.
Accepting the World Cup and the U.S. role as just one of 32 shows that many Americans are ready to take a less-hierarchical international perspective. Losing in the Round of 16 may challenge that new-found acceptance; we'll see if it sours their view of the competition, or if they see their team's good-play-but-no-championship as the positive achievement that it was.
The US in soccer is always surreal, but it seemed extra weird this time around as Americans started to take notice, and even care about their team.
Of course, you don't want to read too much into the fandom of one tournament. Ann Coulter's screed against soccer has made the rounds of the internet, with much laughter at its Colbert-esque hyperbole. This article in The Atlantic is more analytic, but also bites off more than it can chew by paralleling soccer and Obama support. But it does summarize the uniqueness of soccer amongst American sports: it's not the sport itself, but America's place in it. The US is just another country in soccer, not unique or dominant. Today's massive clash was against Belgium. Where else had the US ever been on even terms with Belgium? And their nemesis over the last three World Cups has been Ghana.
This may not seem like a big shift, but it's remarkable how unusual it is for Americans to see themselves as being on a level with other countries. We have a tendency to think American exceptionalism is exclusively practiced by far-right thinkers like Coulter. But really, the attitude infects all parts of the political spectrum, with the more international-friendly pundits seeing themselves as friendly but still special.
Accepting the World Cup and the U.S. role as just one of 32 shows that many Americans are ready to take a less-hierarchical international perspective. Losing in the Round of 16 may challenge that new-found acceptance; we'll see if it sours their view of the competition, or if they see their team's good-play-but-no-championship as the positive achievement that it was.
Saturday, June 28, 2014
The Bite Heard 'Round The World
Uruguay's Luis Suarez has been kicked out of the World Cup for biting another player. That's strange enough on its own, but it gets weirder when you find that this is the third time Suarez has bitten an opponent on the field. Yes, he's bitten three-times as many professional athletes as Mike Tyson. Like Shia LeBeouf, Suarez just keeps acting strange. You think it can't get any stranger, then it does, and you have to wonder what's behind it.
Given his continued great play, Suarez is now on the eternal-second-chance ride that Terrell Owens was on for many years. He'll get dumped by his current employer, Liverpool, go to some other team and help them for a year or two until his next incident, and keep repeating the cycle until his physical ability deserts him.
But what I find interesting about international celebrity meltdowns is how nationalism affects people's perception. Everyone in Uruguay, right up to the president, is behind him. And I don't mean offering unconditional caring while urging him to get professional help. They're actually ignoring the visual evidence, and buying his excuse that he lost his balance and fell onto the Italian with his teeth breaking his fall.
Say what you will about Americans and their celebrity culture: at least they don't all stand behind an obviously guilty superstar. When the aforementioned Tyson does something objectionable, his fans may back him unquestioningly, but many Americans will be ready to turn on him. I guess it's a result of a country's size. The USA has plenty of heroes; they can afford to throw a few under the bus. But Uruguay doesn't get the world's attention often, so they have to support the favourite son no matter what.
In Canada, were in between; about one-tenth the size of the US, but ten-times the size of Uruguay. So we seem happy to trash a local celebrity when they deserve it (Bieber, Ford.) But we will stand behind an entire province when foreigners attack them (Alberta tar sands, Newfoundland seal hunt.)
Given his continued great play, Suarez is now on the eternal-second-chance ride that Terrell Owens was on for many years. He'll get dumped by his current employer, Liverpool, go to some other team and help them for a year or two until his next incident, and keep repeating the cycle until his physical ability deserts him.
But what I find interesting about international celebrity meltdowns is how nationalism affects people's perception. Everyone in Uruguay, right up to the president, is behind him. And I don't mean offering unconditional caring while urging him to get professional help. They're actually ignoring the visual evidence, and buying his excuse that he lost his balance and fell onto the Italian with his teeth breaking his fall.
Say what you will about Americans and their celebrity culture: at least they don't all stand behind an obviously guilty superstar. When the aforementioned Tyson does something objectionable, his fans may back him unquestioningly, but many Americans will be ready to turn on him. I guess it's a result of a country's size. The USA has plenty of heroes; they can afford to throw a few under the bus. But Uruguay doesn't get the world's attention often, so they have to support the favourite son no matter what.
In Canada, were in between; about one-tenth the size of the US, but ten-times the size of Uruguay. So we seem happy to trash a local celebrity when they deserve it (Bieber, Ford.) But we will stand behind an entire province when foreigners attack them (Alberta tar sands, Newfoundland seal hunt.)
Sunday, June 15, 2014
An Appeal To The Easily Bored
I'm a big fan of being tired of things. That is, I get sick of trends and tendencies quickly. But you knew that because I complain about them a lot. And I'm glad when I see others complain about being tired of things. If more people are vocal about societal trends they dislike, it will push decision makers to do something about it.
But this week I've seen a number of people in the U.S. and Canada saying that they are tired of yet another attempt to pretend to care about the World Cup. This usually comes with sweeping statements that no one here cares, they're just pretending to be interested and so on.
That bugs me because it simply isn't true. A lot of people in our two countries do care and watch. Certainly it isn't a large number compared to our favourite sports, but it's not an insignificant number either. And that's why I'm particularly disappointed in my fellow curmudgeons. Usually, when we complain that some fashion or fad has gone to far, it is because we are pointing out that not everyone in society has the same tastes and priorities, and that some of us are displeased with the trends of the mass-market. By discounting the soccer subculture, you're trampling the desires of those very people.
I think this all comes from the fact that soccer is at a very awkward point in its history here. It's moved beyond the obscure curiosity it once was: the MLS is still in business, and European soccer is popular enough to merit showings on sports channels. But on the other hand, it isn't huge: MLS still operates on a much smaller scale than the big pro leagues, and most American sports fans would be hard pressed to name a European soccer team other than Manchester United. That level of partial success is unusual for us in our high-stakes sports world. Sports success means superstardom to us, so we're not sure what to do with a sport that has essentially a cult following.
It should be obvious: we do what we do with all other cult followings: The mainstream occasionally makes awkward reference to it, but mostly ignores it. And we curators of the obscure admire and praise it, glad that it brings some variety into our culture. So if you care about a diverse culture, get over being tired of it.
But this week I've seen a number of people in the U.S. and Canada saying that they are tired of yet another attempt to pretend to care about the World Cup. This usually comes with sweeping statements that no one here cares, they're just pretending to be interested and so on.
That bugs me because it simply isn't true. A lot of people in our two countries do care and watch. Certainly it isn't a large number compared to our favourite sports, but it's not an insignificant number either. And that's why I'm particularly disappointed in my fellow curmudgeons. Usually, when we complain that some fashion or fad has gone to far, it is because we are pointing out that not everyone in society has the same tastes and priorities, and that some of us are displeased with the trends of the mass-market. By discounting the soccer subculture, you're trampling the desires of those very people.
I think this all comes from the fact that soccer is at a very awkward point in its history here. It's moved beyond the obscure curiosity it once was: the MLS is still in business, and European soccer is popular enough to merit showings on sports channels. But on the other hand, it isn't huge: MLS still operates on a much smaller scale than the big pro leagues, and most American sports fans would be hard pressed to name a European soccer team other than Manchester United. That level of partial success is unusual for us in our high-stakes sports world. Sports success means superstardom to us, so we're not sure what to do with a sport that has essentially a cult following.
It should be obvious: we do what we do with all other cult followings: The mainstream occasionally makes awkward reference to it, but mostly ignores it. And we curators of the obscure admire and praise it, glad that it brings some variety into our culture. So if you care about a diverse culture, get over being tired of it.
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