The Non-Celebration

It’s a scene that has played out numerous times. Frank Lampard scores a critical goal on the brink of full time and the supporters roar. In this instance, the setting is oddly not Stamford Bridge, but the Etihad. Lampard has scored in the powder blue of Manchester City against his former Chelsea. Were it a screenplay, the scene would be criticised as contrived and pat. But as it transpired in game week five of the Premier League 2014-2015, we have no choice other than to marvel at Fate.

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On the Nature of the Press Conference

It’s rehearsed, predictable and laughably uninformative--to such a degree that it is fascinating as a cultural phenomenon. Why does an institution that so dismally fails to accomplish its objective endure with such vigor?

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O Tempora! O Torres! Kopites and Torres Reconcile

Sport can be cloying. It can. But the sweetness of the reconciliation between Fernando Torres and his Liverpool supporters at Steven Gerrard’s tribute match might be one of most moving moments of this season. For all of the comparisons to combat and warfare, sport thrives on emotion. The raw power of victory and defeat narratives are always accompanied by the history and stirring personal stories of athletes. These stories humanize individuals who are looked upon as idols. These stories make sport relevant beyond its immediate sphere. These stories are what make sport a microcosm of life.

Torres’ departure from Liverpool in 2011 was perceived as a betrayal by Kopites and there is no reasoning with football supporters. As a professional athlete, Torres made a tough career decision. His decision was a manifestation of the simplest Godfather tenet--it’s not personal, it’s business. It must have been very difficult for Torres to leave Liverpool, where he was loved and he, in turn, loved them back. Still, he became Judas. To leave Liverpool for Chelsea was the ultimate sellout and the vitriol of the Kop was felt acutely when he returned as an opponent.

Torres’ form at Chelsea was nowhere near the form he played in when partnered with Gerrard, and Liverpool supporters relished in this fact. You can only hate if you once loved. The ferocity of the Liverpool supporters’ reactions to Torres’ departure speaks to the high regard in which they held the Spaniard. Had a lesser player defected to Chelsea, he would likely be faced with apathy and disgust. The torrent of hate Torres’ experienced was deeply rooted in a love betrayed.

Liverpool fans forget that they are his second love. Torres had already had his heart broken at Atlético Madrid. He was the captain and poster niño of the club, but Atléti’s plummeting stature in world football compelled the young player to walk away. He pledged he would never go to Real Madrid out of devotion to the Rojiblancos. Loyalty is important to the striker. And he returned to his boyhood club this season with a welcome fit for a galáctico.

When Gerrard asked Fernando to return to Merseyside, the striker must have had some apprehension. Perhaps he feared he would be subjected to boos and what ought to be the celebration of one man’s career would turn into a reminder of the mercenary side of football. Maybe Torres feared being ignored and that he would emerge from the tunnel to hostile silence.

But reality trumped even fantasy when Kopites were finally ready to forgive their former number 9.They sang his song. His armband proved he was a Red. Torres. Torres. You’ll never walk alone it said. Torres. Torres. As the song mentions, there was something fated about Fernando becoming a Liverpool player. He belonged to them even before he signed. His voluntary move to Chelsea undermined the soul mate quality between the player and Liverpool.

Perhaps transfers and time--1 sale and 2 loans removed from Chelsea--allowed fans to forgive. Consider this: Torres’ return for Gerrard’s tribute match was the first opportunity supporters had to show him that he was still adored in Liverpool circles (forgiveness was simply impossible while he was playing for Chelsea). Again, the tribute match was the first time Torres returned to Anfield without affiliation with Chelsea. In this light, Liverpool forgave Fernando as quickly as they could. He’s really only been away from Chelsea for half of a season, yet the Kopites were quick to reclaim him. Their warm welcome seemed to say that they would have seen him through the hard days much better than Chelsea, if only he had stayed. They wanted to forgive Torres desperately and express their love for the fallen hero.

Torres’ many posts on instagram demonstrated how deeply he appreciated his reception at Anfield. His acrimonious departure from the club hurt him because he still loved the club, but for the sake of his career had to leave (sound familiar?) So to see his faithful admirers turn against him was painful to witness and likely part of the reason for his dismal form at Chelsea.

Torres is an exceptionally thoughtful player. His interviews are insightful and eloquent. His answers reflect the mind of someone who understands the realities of the football transfer market and wishes the supporters could, too. He posted a photo of Liverpool legends standing together with their arms around each other and captioned it “Liverpool Family”. He had finally returned to Anfield in a way that allowed closure.

It was decidedly not as if he had never left. The return had the same sweetness as the second beginning of a romantic relationship that ended because of circumstance rather than personal reasons. Perhaps timing was wrong or one person had to move away. The breakup was not a product of incompatibility with each other, but incompatibility with external factors.

With all the nostalgia of Torres’ Liverpool days, it was interesting to see the Spaniard reunite with his Chelsea captain John Terry, who was also invited to Gerrard’s tribute. The defender posed for a picture with Torres and Didier Drogba, reminding Liverpool supporters that Torres’ life at Chelsea was filled with friendships and memories as well.

Another image shows Terry and Torres happily catching up. An appreciation for his time at Chelsea does not undermine the place Liverpool holds in his heart. Torres is not reminiscing fondly about Liverpool at Chelsea’s expense. He is not spurning his Chelsea days and denigrating his experience at the London club now that he is safe, enwrapped in the love of both Atléti and Liverpool. Torres’ Chelsea experience has been part of his journey to acceptance at Liverpool.

He posted another photo that seemed to say to Liverpool fans that he never returned their hatred, even when it was at its ugliest. He praised the Kop and credited them for how much they contributed to his career. His post was soul baring and deeply sentimental. He wrote “I feel in peace with myself.” The admission is admirable and speaks to his devotion to the club that he cares what they think of him.

Club-player relationships are always rendered in terms of romance, and the metaphor is especially apt for Torres and Liverpool. He was ready to be friends for quite some time after the breakup, but Liverpool supporters took time to come around. It may have irked Liverpool supporters to see Torres smiling and chatting with Terry and Drogba, but they must have delighted in the joy evident on Torres’ face when interacting with his Liverpool skipper, who the Spaniard still credits as the best he’s ever played with.

[Originally published on Lovely Left Foot]

A Sporting Gripe

There's a line in Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club, "You wake up, and that's enough." Given the tone of the novel, it's easy to read this as cynical: great, I didn't kill myself last night. Yet the book is strangely hopeful. In the introduction, Palahniuk says that many have thanked him for inspiring them to go back to school. They were inspired by the scene in which a character holds a gun to another man's head and threatens to kill him if he doesn't follow his dream of being a vet. At the heart of the quotation is the idea that sometimes getting to live is enough. It's the 'life is a gift' outlook--a pretty healthy worldview, if you ask me. And one Roger Federer endorses.

The Swiss said in an interview:

"Sometimes you're just happy playing. Some people, some media unfortunately don't understand that it's okay just to play tennis and enjoy it. They always think you have to win everything, it always needs to be a success story, and if it's not obviously what is the point. Maybe you have to go back and think, Why have I started playing tennis?  Because I just like it.  It's actually sort of a dream hobby that became somewhat of a job.  Some people just don't get that ever.”

The media and many others presumed that failing to win titles at the breakneck pace he used to would diminish Federer's love of the game. That's not the case, though it is a fair assumption. Many athletes love winning more than sport--and that's not to say that they don't love sport immensely. But Federer's response embodies what sets him apart from a typical (if such a thing exists) professional athlete. It also frees him from the unasked for pity that has been thrust upon him. He may be in the declining phase of his career, but the ability to compete is enjoyable in itself. 

The fortunes of athletes are viewed with a very one-dimensional gaze. To assume that a dry spell necessitates unhappiness diminishes the sheer joy of being able to do something you love for a living. As Federer has thoughtfully reminded us, just playing can be enough. Federer does concede that he might feel different if he weren't playing on center court consistently. Pete Sampras noted how demoralizing it was to be assigned to the graveyard court later in his career. The visible demotion was shattering. But again, he is someone who placed a much higher premium on winning than Federer. 

We lament the decline of great athletes' careers. And we pity them for being less than they were. Yet we are so eager to declare the end of their prime that it impedes our ability to appreciate it. When you're constantly on the lookout for signs of decline you will find them. As Caesar said in the Gallic Wars, "men are generally ready to believe what they want to believe."Perhaps we eulogize athletes so totally because we believe such skill is akin to art. We want desperately for athletes to last in the same way we desire beauty to last, though it is by nature short-lived.

John McEnroe once said, "Connors loved to fight, Sampras loved to win; Federer just loves to play," While there is nothing fundamentally superior about Federer's mindset over Sampras' or Connors', for those of us who love the game, we embrace professionals who feel likewise. Sport purists would like to believe that athletes compete for the love of the game and love of competition rather than prize money or the high of winning. Federer embodies such an ideal. Granted, it's easier for Federer to happily lose and enjoy playing given his achievements, certain legacy, living legend status and money in the bank. Even so, his sincerity is hard to question. 

Sampras was an incredible champion, but he didn't play with the same joy as Federer. The pleasure the 17-time Grand Slam champion gets out of playing is evident in his performances. Like a passionate musician or actor, Roger's emotion shines through his work. Fans love to see players celebrate, pump their fists and urge themselves on. The commentators always note when Roger says "c'mon" to himself during a match because the exclamation is an indication that he's thoroughly invested in the match. He often yells it when he is coming back from being down a set. 

Federer's quotation underscores his suitability as tennis' foremost ambassador. He may not be in the prime of his career anymore, but he can still compete at the very top. While Federer may have slipped considerably regarding his own unprecedentedly high standards, he has barely slipped in world standing. At 33, being ranked no. 2 in the world is hardly anything to be ashamed of. The fact that Federer was compelled to express the idea that being able to compete is enough speaks to the bizarre assumption that he cannot derive happiness from the push and pull of struggle and victory that is sport. 

Federer's reign has been so long that there is a tendency to think that success has come easily to him. That's not the reality. Federer struggled with his temper as a junior. His coach and close friend Peter Carter died tragically. When he turned pro, Federer was expected to be successful immediately but his wide array of weapons hindered the beginning of his career. And then there was his failure to capture the title at Roland Garros. With Federer you have to consider "challenges" and "obstacles" in terms of the caliber of his ability. You wouldn't consider failing to win the French Open a devastating event in a less talented player's life. That being said, the Swiss is no stranger to hardship. 

It should go without saying that you don't have to shatter records to enjoy playing. The numerous rec and USTA leagues across the nation are a testament to this. But we assume that to win virtually unrivaled and then to win only some of the time would be mentally devastating. For some it may be. But Roger reminds us that we should always be able to love sport in the way we loved it when we first fell in love. The freedom to win and the freedom to lose are enough.