To me, one of the biggest problems that exists in football, and its subculture, is the idea of tribalism. Or rather, exceptionalism manifesting itself in vehement aggression against those who do not wear the same color as you. It is gang warfare, or hooliganism, in its latest form. Without the pomp and circumstance which defined that era, at its height. With the infinitesimal expansion of social networks, and the opportunity to co-mingle with anyone who has a computer, or smart phone, and the minimal capabilities of putting together thoughts; this tribalist mentality has taken on a life of its own. Most likely, in ways that I would feel safe in venturing to guess, that the old hooligans never thought possible before.
Growing up in the US, my experience with football hooliganism was limited to brief news blurbs and soundbytes that never delved into any detail. I vaguely recall hearing about the Heysel tragedy in 1985. I do not recall ever hearing about the Hillsborough tragedy. My full education on both of those came much later in my life. I also remember hearing brief snippets of news chastising the hooligan culture in England. I never heard anything of hooligans from other nations, only England.
As I have grown, and immersed myself in football, especially its history and culture, I have spent ample time learning about the darker side of the game as well. I am quite familiar with the sectarian violence that defined the Old Firm derby for many years. I have become quite familiar with the animosity that exists between West Ham and Millwall. Or, well, the animosity that exists against anyone who plays Millwall at The Den. I have read extensively on the political and sociological acrimony that defines the El Clasico, between Barcelona and Real Madrid. Or the political rancor of the Derby della Capitale between AS Roma and SS Lazio. Not to mention the perceived malevolence that English teams and their supporters seem to encounter when playing against Roma.
There is a deep history of antipathy that exists in football. It is defined by borough, in the case of London and its derbies. It is defined by region, as is the case of any team that seems to play in Lancashire, or the Basque region of Spain. It is defined by religion, like the divide in Glasgow between Rangers and Celtic. It is defined by political ideologies, like Real Madrid and Barcelona, or Lazio and Roma. Even, to an extent, it is defined by national history, like Scotland and England. There is a sense of identity that exists within the parameters of these heated rivalries. A sense of purpose on both sides of the hostility. Not just the pride that comes with defeating your hated rivals, but a sense of karmic comeuppance being played out before you, if you happen to support the underdog in any of these cases.
In understanding these, even in the most basic of senses, then you can infer at the level of passion and emotion that exists within football, and its subculture. The concept of identity, as paraded by the local club, or regional club, or national team; is a very integral part of being a supporter. You are judged by the crest you wear on your shirt. You are judged by the color of that shirt. You are judged by the dialect you speak. You are judged by any, and all, who support a football club. Especially if those supporters do not share your taste in teams.
This is especially obvious in the medium of social networks. I have been witness to friends of mine receiving torment for the club they support. Duly, I have also seen them torment supporters of other teams. I found myself aghast at the choice of barbs that have been exchanged. I have read lengthy articles on places like The Guardian about songs between rival groups of supporters, highlighting tragedies in each respective team’s histories. I have witnessed such insults and comments traded in comments sections of websites, between rival supporters, and passed off as “banter”. It is crass. It is absurd. And it only serves to complicate the experience of being a football supporter.
This problem is not limited to interactions between rival squads. It is exists within the confines of certain supporters groups, who support the same team. There is a certain exceptionalism that supporters a club, say they are from England, carry toward supporters of their club who do not live within a certain distance from the club’s home ground. Or, in the case of certain political groups within those supporters groups, supporters who are deemed to be “casual”, are ostracized and verbally berated, or even physically attacked, by those who call themselves “passionate”. I have seen the term “plastic” bandied around at people an absurd amount of times. In this case, “plastic” is a term used to insult supporters who are considered to beneath those who are doing the insulting. It is a term that I abhor. It is a classification that I feel belittles the experience of supporters who support clubs in their own way. It is classless to me, to treat fellow supporters that way. And it is something that needs to be addressed within the supporter culture.
Unfortunately, with the relative anonymity that exists within the online medium, accountability is at a bare minimum. This transition of the hooligan, from a beer-swilling fisticuff-engaging barbarian, into a relatively anonymous collection of words on a screen has been relatively seamless. The ability to vocalize one’s hatred at a rival supporter is taking the terraces into a new place. It has taken the street fight and moved it into a textual pissing match. The vitriol is there, in spades. The disdain is amplified. And the virulence has taken on a life of its own. And that is something that needs to be addressed as well. As a football supporter, or a fan of any sport, the experience is generally shared. The agony of defeat. The exhilaration of victory. Those are experiences shared with one’s friends, and fellow supporters. While there is a place for sour grapes, lashing out either in violent means, or verbal, has no place in the culture. It is as deplorable to me as racism, or sexism, or anytime that Andy Gray opens his gaping maw. It detracts from my ability to enjoy supporting my club, if I am surrounded by hostility. It detracts from my interest in wanting to be a part of this culture, when that antagonism is aimed at fellow supporters, and rival supporters alike.
This has to stop. This in-fighting between supporters. It leaves a blemish on this beautiful game, that I love so passionately. This tribalism that led to acts like Heysel and Hillsborough. This mentality that got England banned from European competition from the mid to late 1980s needs to stop. Violence, either physically or verbally, needs to be excised from football’s culture. And it needs to happen soon. It turns away people who could potentially fall in love with the game, because it shows that it has a repugnant side. It leads to drastic action that can have a lasting affect on clubs, or nations. And it makes the media treat football and its supporters as though they have barely crawled out of the primordial ooze. Football is more cultured than that. Football supporters are more cultured than that. They have seen what has happened before. They need to heed the lessons of the tragedies, and senselessness, of the generations before. More importantly, they need to bring the game back from this precarious threshold.
