Football.txt - A religion for our times


                          A religion for our times

                           Thomas Hylland Eriksen

                          Norway Now, spring 1998

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    [Image]     Suppose our civilization were to disappear suddenly and
                completely, say, next week. Although no humans survived to
   About this   interpret it, large numbers of artifacts and archives
      site      survived for intelligent life forms emerging in a distant
                future to interpret. These future archaeologists would be
     [Image]    bound to conclude that although humanity seemed to have
                worshipped many gods and goddesses -- ranging from the
   Relational   Buddha to the Spice Girls -- one peculiar religious ritual
     index      seemed to have been nearly universal. It was reported on
                several pages every day in most of the newspapers, it was
    [Image]     sponsored by whisky producers, computer companies and
                media conglomerates, and it took place regularly; not in
    Thematic    mere churches or temples, but in open-air venues much
     index      larger than the Colosseum. The purpose of the ritual would
                presumably have been to illustrate the ultimate futility
    [Image]     of life by sending out twenty-two athletic young men (or,
                more rarely, women) on a grass field to kick a leather
   Alphabetic   ball back and forth until they were utterly exhausted.
     index
                Once every four years, this ritual attained a truly global
    [Image]     character. In many parts of the world, the period around
                this climax seemed to have been a frenzied one, where most
     Recent     other activities and preoccupations were temporarily
                abandoned.

    [Image]     We are, as the readers cannot fail to have noticed,
                approaching the end of one such cycle these very days.
     World      Norway is among the twenty-four chosen countries, and as
                the country is these days moving towards a virtual
                standstill, the public sphere is slowly being filled to
                the brim with information about "our" footballers. To
                profess ignorance or disgust in this respect is, as the
                countdown brings us closer to the sacred kick-off,
                becoming more politically incorrect than refusing to
                celebrate the 17th of May, Constitution Day ¡ which,
                according to surveys, enjoys the support of over 90 per
                cent of the Norwegian population.

                The national team's legendary manager, ex-Maoist Egil
                Olsen, is approached with a reverence formerly reserved
                for popes and presidents, and the youngsters whose single
                discriminating trait is their ability to kick a ball at
                the right moment in the right direction, are depicted as
                demiurges; the attentive public will at any given moment
                know everything about relevant topics such as their food
                habits, marital status, salary, recent performances and
                whether or not they have successfully recovered from minor
                injuries incurred in recent matches.

                The priests of this highly successful religion are the
                sports journalists. While reporters on politics and
                culture are grateful to see their work in print at all,
                sports journalists are routinely provided with large
                colour illustrations, huge headlines, and unlimited
                opportunities to present all their banalities, their
                self-indulgent chattering, their uncensored emotional
                outbursts and their helpless clichΘs in prestigious
                spaces. It has nothing to do with topical priorities,
                quality or relevance to the country's well-being. The
                omnipresence of football cannot be understood lest we
                realise that this is religion. The question which needs to
                be answered for those of us who fail to see the unrivalled
                beauty and mystery embodied in twenty-two sweating blokes
                fighting over a ball on a grass field, consists in what
                exactly it is that this religion worships: what are its
                central tenets and values; what does it have to say about
                what? Hopefully, future archaeologists will provide an
                answer.



                P.S. Under other circumstances, perhaps this intense
                attention would have been reserved for philosophical,
                literary and artistic types. Consider the news headlines
                in such a society: "Young Ph. D. student claims to have
                refuted Kant"; "New metaphors in recent collection of
                poetry, says publisher"; "Will marry my secretary, admits
                Professor Hansen"; "Johnsen finally RECOVERED: New novel
                better than last one". Perhaps, to think of it, it is just
                as well that intellectual pursuits are confined to narrow
                spaces in black-and-white.

⌐Thomas Hylland Eriksen 1998

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