What WASPs don’t understand about fútbol
I just had an epic realization: a soccer/football/fútbol supporter’s reaction to each and every penalty call is deeply rooted in cultural bias.
The realization came from two separate events. The first event occurred in the recent Champions League semi-final between Juventus and Real Madrid, when a controversial penalty was called in the dying minutes of the match, essentially giving Real Madrid the victory. Interestingly, the controversy that ensued was never really about the infraction itself. Everyone who saw the match, the play, the call or even the replay agreed that the defender’s actions were worthy of a penalty call. Listening to those who took issue with the call, the issue at hand was something else. To them, the controversy was not about the incursion, but was instead about whether or not (at that point in the game, in the tie, and in the tournament) that penalty should have been called.
The most public and vocal protest came from legendary Italian goalkeeper and Juventus captain, Gigi Buffon. Regarding the referee and his decision to call the penatly, he remarked, “He, with those two decisions at the end, demonstrated that he is a killer, an animal, because only somebody who has a garbage bin in the place of a heart can make decisions like these.” Along with him, a litany of Italian and continental pundits, managers, and supporters cried foul in the grandest terms. This penalty call was an offense, not just in terms of the event, but in terms of courtesy, justice and everything that fútbol is about.
A week later, I listened to a podcast about the ultimate fútbol hero and villain, Diego Armando Maradona. Regarded by many as the greatest player ever, Maradona is also seen by just as many as the greatest villain and cheat in futbol history, as well. Revered and adored for his skill, drive, and technique, Maradona is also known for his excess, his gall and his cunning. Much of this characterization came from the 1986 World Cup, and, mostly, all from one match: Argentina vs. England in the quarter-finals. This match contains both the apex of his skill (the Goal of the Century) and his most legendary moment villainy (the Mano de Dios goal). Add his positive drug test during the 1994 World Cup and his subsequent reaction, when, rather than apologize or accept his own guilt, the Argentine captain reacted as though he was the victim and swore by his own innocence (min 20 and min 37:15). After this there were more drug offenses, ties to organized crime and history has more than enough examples to cement the idea of Maradona as a scourge and villain.
He’s been found guilty on multiple counts of bold faced treachery, yet, to this day, Maradona is held as a national hero and is believed by many to be the greatest player ever. Much like the Juventus penalty, there are very few who would claim that Maradona did not cheat. This is not the point of controversy. Everyone agrees on his transgressions, just like everyone agrees that according to the laws of the game, Real Madrid’s player was fouled in the box by the Juventus opponent. The agreed upon truth is that in both of these cases, the rules were broken.
But this is where agreement breaks down. For much of the English and American press, both of these incidents are cut and dry. If someone breaks the rules, they must be punished. The Protestant idea that sticking to the rules is the only way to succeed is buttressed by the philosophy that honest work is rewarded in kind. “Cheaters never win, and winners never cheat.” Ask an an American, German or an English person if Maradona was the greatest fútbol player ever, and they will most likely answer, “Yes/No/Maybe, BUT he’s a cheat.” He broke the rules, he can’t be admired.
For other cultures, there is a higher absolute: justice. In these cultures, corruption and oppression are the rule. Authority is not earned, it is taken, and often imposed. Therefore, while law and order may be the rule, justice is rare. In these cultures, justice is delivered by luck or by the grace of God. And to have any good luck, you have to make your own. Argentines to this day feel that the mano de Dios goal, their win against England and their ’86 World Cup win were justice not only for the toil of their squad and the genius of their captain, but for the hundreds of deaths during the Guerra de las Malvinas.
Similarly, Gigi Buffon understands that his defender committed a foul in the box in the final moments of injury time of the Champions League semifinal. But he holds that Michael Oliver making that call against their come from behind underdog team, when they were minutes away from drawing level with the 12-time Champions of Europe, to take them into extra time for a glorious comeback, to make it to a final no one could have predicted, was injustice in its purest form. Juventus did the work, fought bravely, stifled the world-class offensive juggernaut of Cristiano Ronaldo and Los Blancos, came back from being throttled 3 goals to nil in the first leg, and yet… were denied the win. In their view, that challenge at that moment came from a desire to win, and that effort should therefore not be subject to “the rules,” but should be viewed through the lens of justice.
That it was not simply proves the Latin and Italian view: honesty and hard work are not always rewarded. Cheaters often win, and they also lose, but in the end, one thing that WASPs don’t understand about fútbol is that “rules” and “justice” are not the same thing.
