LONDON, ENGLAND - JUNE 01: Lionel Messi of Argentina reacts during the 2022 Finalissima match between Italy and Argentina at Wembley Stadium on June 1, 2022 in London, England. (Photo by Chris Brunskill/Fantasista/Getty Images)
LONDON, ENGLAND - JUNE 01: Lionel Messi of Argentina reacts during the 2022 Finalissima match between Italy and Argentina at Wembley Stadium on June 1, 2022 in London, England. (Photo by Chris Brunskill/Fantasista/Getty Images)
I’m looking forward to the FIFA World Cup. Does that make me a bad person?
Football fans the world over are currently grappling with this moral dilemma, as the four-yearly global showpiece of their sport is about to begin in anything but normal circumstances.
The World Cup shouldn’t be beingheld in Qatar. Any sane person can see that.
The fact the gulf nation’s searing temperatures meant the tournament couldn’t be played in its regular June / July timeslot should have taken them out of the reckoning before an official bid was even submitted. The tiny size of the country and lack of any sort of football heritage were also massive red flags.
Instead, it was awarded to them by a panel of 22 mostly greedy men, over half of who have since been fined, suspended, banned from football for life or prosecuted for corruption.
But quite aside from the dishonest, fraudulent and shady behind-the-scenes dealings which eventually saw Qatar given hosting rights, there are plenty of other ethical issues at play.
Qatar has an extremely questionable human rights record, in particular its treatment of women and members of the LGBTQI+ communities. And most disturbing of all, thousands of migrant workers have died during the construction of stadiums and other World Cup projects.
So, what are we – as fans – supposed to do with this?
FILE - A man takes a selfie with a sign reading in English" Fifa World Cup, Qatar 2022" at the corniche in Doha, Qatar, Friday, Nov. 11, 2022. With no soccer tradition but billions in oil money, Qatar is the latest Persian Gulf nation using sports to try to burnish its image on the global stage. The host of the 2022 World Cup is smaller than Connecticut and has a population of fewer than 3 million. (AP Photo/Hassan Ammar, File)
By watching the games, are we condoning all of this?
By enjoying the football, are we complicit in the abhorrence behind it?
I watched my first World Cup in 1982, following the fortunes of the All Whites at their maiden tournament, and marveling at the Brazilians, led by the wonderfully named Socrates and featuring the outrageous skills of Zico, Falcao and Eder. My lifelong love of football was ignited by that month in Spain.
In the four decades since, I’ve watched in awe as the best footballers on the planet battled one another across five continents, displaying their outrageous skills and riding the full range of human emotion. Generational talents like Maradona, Ronaldo, Messi and Zidane have graced the pitches of Mexico, Japan, Germany, South Africa and Brazil, thrilling hundreds of millions of fans.
Four years ago, I felt some trepidation about the World Cup that Russia – or more correctly Vladimir Putin – might oversee, but it turned out OK. However, the events of the last few months, while not in any way related to the football played at the 2018 World Cup, have been a chilling reminder of the type of country, and the sort of leader FIFA are happy to align themselves with. Politics and money took the World Cup to Russia. The same potent, powerful, perilous combination is at play here.
So, I ask again; what are we football fans supposed to do?
Should we turn away from our televisions? Stay away from social media? Pretend the event we wait four years for is on some sort of hiatus?
I just can’t do it. Even though I detest the backdrop to this World Cup, the way in which it was awarded, the political ethos of its hosts and the tragedy of those who have perished in its preparation, football is a habit which is too hard for me to break.
