On July 9, my family and I gathered to watch the final match of the World Cup. When France's outgoing veteran Zinédine Zidane - renowned for penalty kicks, clutch headers and his composure on the field - scored the opening goal, we cheered. We were rooting for France on Zizou's account, but we were also rooting against the Italians, renowned for high drama, questionable gamesmanship and for a match-fixing scandal in their home league earlier this year. We cheered for the French; we wanted to see honesty and fair play triumph.
True to form, the Italians played well, but stealthily. The French played with less spunk, but more restraint. When Zidane was injured, he signaled quietly for help, allowing play to go on, as opposed to Italy's Fabio Grosso, who used an injury to stop play.
Surprisingly, though, the French soon began to play down to the Italians' example. By halftime, the two teams were running an equal foul count. Then, with only 10 minutes left in overtime, Zidane horrifically head-butted the chest of an Italian player, allegedly in response to a racial slur about his Algerian background. By that point, the match had long since ceased to showcase honorable play.
The talk the morning after revolved around the head butt. How could Zidane, known for his good behavior, go out on such a low? How could the Italians, known for such scurrilous sportsmanship, end up with the crown for the most admirable event of global athletics?
The real story was not Zidane's actions or Italy's win, but rather the widespread outrage expressed by fans worldwide. Certainly, public opinion seems to exonerate the questionable mores of politicians, actors, writers and businessmen and often accepts them once again after high-profile affairs, drug addictions or eating disorders. Yet we quickly turn our back on athletes - whether they are soccer strikers, football quarterbacks, baseball sluggers or Olympians - when we see them losing their composure and resorting to steroids or other forms of cheating to ensure a win.
Why are we particularly incensed by athletes' bad behavior? Why do fans demand higher moral standards from sports heroes than from other leaders? Perhaps it is these moral standards that explain the importance of professional athletics to begin with. Debating the political ramifications of a Germany-Turkey match in the 2002 World Cup, given the unfriendly relations between the two nations, a fellow soccer fan remarked to me, "The World Cup stops wars."
More importantly, professional sports seem to offer an alternative to conflict: an arena for competition, for the pursuit of healthy ambition without immorality. They are an attempt to achieve utopia by extracting the best of mankind's hunger for glory without the worst of man's capacity to cheat. They represent the hope that, at least for designated intervals, a rulebook and a referee can channel competitive energy to wholly positive ends.
For me, that bubble burst on July 9. As I accepted the gritty dishonesty of the so-called "beautiful game," I also came to appreciate the fallacy of our notions about professional sport, our attempt to deny humanity's darker side and downplay its role in writing success stories.
Maha Atal '08 expects a little more.
