The World Cup

Writing about sports is not really my thing, and I never thought I would have found myself compelled to write anything about the World Cup, but there was something different about the experience this time. Now that opening statement makes it sound like I am a lifelong, avid fan who has been watching the World Cup since I was a child, but the reality is that this is only the second time I have fully participated in watching the World Cup in earnest. This is because my football journey is relatively young. I only began to properly pay attention to the sport when I moved to Barcelona. My classmate, an Argentine, brought up Messi in conversation one day. I had never heard of him, which baffled her (honestly, I understand why). She invited me to watch a game with her and her friends, Barça vs Liverpool, in which Messi delivered a legendary kick. Hundreds of people in this massive bar chanting MESSIIIIII MESSIIIIII MESSIIIIII and bowing in sync. Yeah, I was hooked.

The last World Cup happened during a particularly difficult time for me, in which I was relapsing into a mental health and disordered eating crisis for a few months. This was a terribly difficult winter, and something that was giving me hope was Messi finally being able to get his World Cup championship. And I did, and it filled me with joy and wonder, and I am so grateful for what football and sports gave me that winter.

So yes, I was excited for this World Cup, but skeptical since we had to deal with the United States hosting some of the matches and all the political turmoil that gets implicated. I was surprised at how much I was enjoying those first few weeks though. The memes, the cultural exchanges, how many fusions were happening in the streets, the jokes, seeing US'ians become football fans and bring their own specific cultural flavor and humor to the joy that is sport.

The underdogs: the joy that predominantly Black teams brought to the audience is something that deserves its own well thought out essay. For me, nothing beats Cabo Verde and that goal and the goalie, showing us that life doesn't stop just because you have a few years on you, that your goals can be met, etc., etc. I am so happy to see that he is continuing with professional football in Chile. The team has a new fan now. Despite these small examples, the corruption and the racism and the ways in which this year's World Cup was tainted cannot be overlooked. And since the final happened, we now have reports about how the president of the World Cup is trying to partially privatize it by selling to a certain someone connected to other heads of state. Rumors of rigging with the referees and so on are just further cementing my feelings that this World Cup is not the same. How disappointing it was to watch the matches and be left with more disdain than when I started.

Something that stood out to me in particular was how leftists were in this conversation compared to the last one (specifically on social media, I mean). During the last World Cup, most of what I saw were people trying to imitate the goal celebrations of the players, and I in particular was introduced to PHONK music thanks to the dances by the Brazilian stars. This year, there was a lot of "it's now only the colonizers in the finals, guess I am no longer watching" or "I am rooting for anyone not Argentina." Quickly, an intracommunal war amongst Latines began: new conversations about the aching whiteness of the Argentine team, who makes up the population, who is the bigger colonizer, is the French team French or an offshoot of an African team. I mean, I can go on and on. I think there is some legitimacy to some of these kinds of conversations, but I also think we should be past some of it by now, considering the kind of theory that was discussed on social media years ago.

I saw a post on Threads that particularly irked me:

An image of the characters from Apocalypto looking at Spaniards coming onto the land from boats, with one of them captioned as Lamine Yamal. "This is how I feel when I find myself rooting for Spain. My deep indigenous ancestry is at odds with my fatherland, all because I am a fanboy of this 18 year old kid who plays for Spain." Apparently somewhere in there was a joke about empire and playing for it, but in my back and forth with this guy I didn't see how that was clear at all. Considering Yamal reportedly received 40,000 racist remarks on social media during the World Cup, amongst other things, I really find it disgusting to put him in such a context. Muslim, and both parents from countries that also suffered the Spanish invasion and empire, I really think the context created with the image and text didn't serve anyone anything. The conversation just felt slightly hollow, another mestizo with a lot more "whiteness" in his blood than anything else (blood and percentages matter to these people), using distant Indigenous ancestry to posit himself in such a way against a Black and North African person just because their passports are one of a former colony and the other its colonizer. If that even matters, because looking back I think this person is Mexican American specifically, but whatever, man. To center your 'races' whilst completely neglecting to also place the race of Yamal feels purposeful in order to justify framing Yamal as a 'young Spaniard' and an agent of empire. Gross.

This World Cup saddened me. But I was happy that Spain won, yes, I was. So many players from my favorite football team. I am a Yamal fan, and I remember when this kid made his debut. I loved seeing his beautiful little brother steal the hearts of everyone (VAAAAAMOOOOOOS), and I just wish that Messi hadn't tainted his legacy. On to the next.