There are times, amidst oil spills, global warfare, famine and extreme poverty, when I wonder whether sports writing is really the best path for my life. Do I really want to spend my career covering something that, ultimately, will have little effect upon the world around me?
Perhaps not. Only time will tell. But about two weeks ago, I was reminded of why I have such a fervent passion for sports of all kinds.
As most of you know, the FIFA World Cup is set to begin next week. For its May 24 issue, Sports Illustrated ran a cover story entitled, “The Beautiful Game,” which took readers all over the world, from the post-earthquake ruins of Port-au-Prince, Haiti, to the “Magic Mountains” of Bhutan.
The common denominator between each of these locations was, of course, soccer. Say what you will about the game, which has never truly taken off in the United States the way it has elsewhere. “It’s too boring,” some complain. “There’s not enough scoring, the players flop around like fish out of water.”
Indeed, most soccer pitches also double as acting studios. You could even argue that soccer is partially responsible for the increase in flopping in the NBA, which has seen an influx in players from soccer capitals like Argentina and Brazil. I cannot, and never will, defend the flopping in soccer.
Yet, the game has plenty of redeeming qualities. It is, as Sports Illustrated declared, “beautiful.” Try looking up current superstar Lionel Messi on YouTube and not gawking at his sublime talent. To watch a perfectly executed “through” pass en route to a wide opener attacker for a goal is to witness teamwork at its finest.
But what’s truly special about soccer, what sets it apart from pretty much any other sport, is its inherent ability to bring people together. Not just to a stadium, or to a local tavern to watch a match. Soccer seems to create bonds that last well beyond the final whistle, unlikely friendships that may never have been without that little black and white ball placed between two sets of feet.
Take Didier Drogba, for example. A native of Africa’s Ivory Coast, Drogba is thought by most to be the continent’s best player. You might recognize him from the cover of Vanity Fair magazine, on which he appeared this month alongside Portuguese star Cristiano Ronaldo. He was also profiled by Grant Wahl in the aforementioned issue of Sports Illustrated.
A 6-foot 2-inch forward, Drogba led Chelsea to an English Premier League title this past season, scoring 29 goals in 32 matches. His talent on the pitch is unquestioned. What most don’t realize, however, is that Drogba is far more than just an athlete.
Back in 2002, playing for the Ivory Coast national team, Drogba and his teammates found themselves in an interesting position. A heated civil war had erupted between the north and south regions of the Ivory Coast. As they soon discovered, soccer games were the only events that brought the country together, regardless of allegiances.
The war was still in progress in 2005, when the Ivory Coast earned its first ever invitation to the World Cup. Shortly after qualifying, Drogba spoke to the nation, right from the soccer field. He called for peace, and at long last the country had a universally renowned speaker to look up to. According to Wahl, noticeable changes were seen in the country after Drogba’s speech.
Try to imagine this happening in any other sport. What would someone like LeBron James do? I love LeBron, but he would probably have to ask Phil Knight before even thinking about taking such a bold stance. Tiger Woods would have to inquire about the Ivory Coast’s population of hostesses, hanger-ons, strippers, and madams before he could think about saving it.
You may not love soccer, or even like it enough to watch more than five minutes of a match. But its impact on the world is undeniable and highly unique. Don’t believe me? Turn on the World Cup next week. Watch closely as 70,000 people wave their flags as one. Listen to each country’s chants as they are passionately repeated.
Do all that, and try to tell me soccer doesn’t mean something. Maybe writing about sports isn’t so shallow after all.
[email protected]