Almost any list of top-rated TV shows in the United States will have football near the top, regardless of the teams playing. This is despite several years of intense media attention surrounding the NFL’s handling of players accused of domestic violence, a concussion problem so stark that Will Smith spoke with a terrible Nigerian accent for two hours in a movie about it, and numerous other foibles surrounding poor officiating and arcane rules. Obviously, for many people, these issues simply do not register. But for those sports fans who are concerned by them, what does it mean to them follow a sport with such clear problems? Let’s not even single out the NFL; basically every sport faces these kinds of questions, and the ones that don’t appear to be might just not have gotten the attention needed to bring them to light. Can one really follow sports in a meaningful way and also take into account such moral and ethical questions?
At this point in my life, I spend most of my sports fandom on soccer, in particular, Liverpool FC. Following Liverpool closely over the past eight or so years has been a mostly frustrating experience, as they seem to hover at “almost good enough”. Only the presence of one Luis Suarez allowed Liverpool to break out of that mediocrity a few years ago when they came agonizingly close to winning the Premier League. Non-soccer fans may remember Suarez from when he bit a guy at the last World Cup, but, of course, his most notorious offense while a Liverpool player was when he racially abused an opponent in 2011.
I’m not going to re-litigate that whole issue here, but I just want to focus on the conflicts that such things bring up with expectations of fandom[1]. I generally believe that people should be able to do their jobs without being racially abused, but at this time, I was faced with both the unedifying spectacle of Liverpool FC as an institution defending Suarez’s character[1:1], and Liverpool fans at large (and in particular, relatively influential Liverpool fans) defending him[1:2]. I was definitely uncomfortable with defending racism, and even more so with promising loyalty in a way that meant that I had to defend racism. I think I’ve gotten more cynical in the last five years or so, and part of that is understanding that basically any big sports team, in the maximally capitalist sense, is very well-branded and long-lasting business. It may be one that provides a lot of entertainment and support to a community[1:3], but at the level that a team like Liverpool competes at, the business side is always a factor in these times[1:4].
Of course, it eventually became less favorable from a business perspective to suggest that it was okay that one of your employees had racially abused someone (based on some speculation, I should add), in part because this seemed to embolden at least one Liverpool fan to racially abuse another black player during a game[1:5]. It just feels icky to see people who might normally denounce a player accused of such offenses hold back because he happens to play for the club they support, and it’s especially distressing when you realize that those thoughts might be influencing your feelings too.
Maybe it is actually ideal that I didn’t grow up close enough to any major sports teams to get too attached, and my parents are not into sports at all. I get that it may be harder for someone who supports a team that plays down the street from them and have been supported by their ancestors to step back and think about those ramifications like I did. I fully believe that sports have the power to do tangible good in society, but the hagiography that surrounds athletes and sports institutions seems to blind us to reality. These people are fallible human beings like the rest of us, and these teams or leagues or governing bodies are subject to the same problems that other institutions in our society have. In particular, this hagiography may actually send a signal to some athletes and institutions that their otherwise unacceptable behavior is okay, because we still want to give them lots of money or cheer for them.
Nowadays, I am lot less committed to specific teams. It’s easier for me to take a more relaxed commitment to particular teams to enjoy sports for the athletic achievement and the deeper meaning when it comes, without feeling like I have or want to defend player X or team Y when they do something questionable. I will admit to still being really into following the US men's and women's soccer teams[1:6], but I think that I do feel somewhat of a distance from Liverpool now. They are still “my team”, and I still feel good when they win, but the losses feel less existentially threatening, and their level of success isn’t a part of how I feel like my life is going any more. Bill Shankly, Liverpool’s seminal manager of the ‘60s and ‘70s, famously said, “Some people believe football is a matter of life and death, I am very disappointed with that attitude. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that.” Perhaps it is apt that he himself reportedly recognized the inherent absurdity in that statement.