Just for sport
Sport is religion. And just like actual faith-based institutions, participation levels vary across the board. Some people are band-wagoneers - they buy into the buzz about the town the day of an important match, yet couldn’t name a player on the field. Others are lapsed or never practiced to begin with - these folks probably think PSG refers to some type of ointment. But, for people such as myself, sport is something that breathes life into the deepest core of our beings, no matter if it is a loss or a victory from which we are reeling. In this post I’m going to riff on this theme some more, but with regard to the experience of the spectator as opposed to the player or the athlete, since I would know very little about that (much to the dismay of my former inter-county-hurler father, of course).
First off, sport is emotional as hell (which is quite ironic since the consumption of sport is primarily viewed as a male or masculine activity. Bizarre then that watching an event both live and retrospectively can cause me - and others - to do the most ‘girly’ thing ever, which is cry). I honestly could not tell you the amount of times I have teared up watching rugby games, for example. Johnny Sexton’s drop goal at the death in Paris in 2018, and Robbie Henshaw planting the ball over for a try in Chicago 2 years previously, sealing a first-ever test victory for Ireland against New Zealand, HAD. ME. IN. BITS. Similarly, the tears flow freely when things aren’t going our way. Exhibit A: losing to Japan in the group stages of the 2019 World Cup. I was meeting a friend afterwards in town for brunch and I genuinely considered cancelling due to ‘bereavement’. You can laugh, but that’s how truly devastated I felt at the time. I’m sure I’m not alone when I list nail-biting, full-body-clenching, hand-wringing, and restless-leg syndrome as just some of the many ways emotions course through my body in the duration of a sporting event, especially one that is down to the wire and/or includes a team or individual to which I feel particularly attached.
Science has a lot to say about this too. Several studies have been conducted which dive deep into the connection between fans and their sports teams, and how fans’ emotions ebb and flow as the game in question unfolds (was gonna cite the papers below, but figured I'd leave you with some homework on this one). A line that stood out from a study of Portuguese soccer fans conducted by Biscaia and colleagues was that, regardless of outcome, “sporting events are consumed primarily for enjoyment” (2012, p.236). And of course this is the case! If we as fans threw in the towel after one loss, there wouldn’t be supporters left! We have to believe things will get better (just look at the Mayo football fans, for example, the hardiest bunch I have ever come across).
It goes without saying that sport teaches us life lessons. We learn how to accept the heartbreak of defeat, and how to appreciate the sheer joy that accompanies victory. We know not to become too complacent or feel too low, as neither emotion or state will last forever. In recent years, consuming sport has become an expression of what it means to be alive. Being in the AVIVA Stadium for the 2017 Six Nations hearing La Marseillaise ring in my ears, or witnessing the All-Black Haka performed before my very eyes the day we clocked our first home win against New Zealand in 2018, had me rearing to go and jumping to my feet and throwing my hands up in the air and screaming and whooping and shouting and hugging whoever was with me at the time (usually my equally fanatic dad). Sport, ultimately, teaches us what it is to feel human.
Having acknowledged that, viewing sport through the lens of COVID-19 has brought a lot of the unsaid and the unnoticed into focus too. It’s only really now, as athletes face off against each other in empty stadiums, that we truly appreciate the ability of the crowd to influence the game. Home advantage means very little in a post-pandemic world, which in a way can be seen as good, since getting a win will ultimately boil down to talent and game-preparedness. That said, numerous sportspeople have commented over the last 12 months on how odd it is to be playing in games of tantamount importance that are completely spectator-less. The only people for whom the acknowledgment of that fact hurts even more are the spectators themselves.
The impact of COVID has also changed my consumption of and connection with sport in that, with all my extra down-time, I have begun following new sports. During the Hallowe’en break of 2020, a time of year when I would usually be abroad, I instead found myself glued to the Indian Premier League cricket, something I still keep up with 7 months later. Similarly, the Netflix series ‘Drive to Survive’, which has documented the last 3 seasons in Formula 1, gave me a flavour for this very niche sport, and now, in a world where the freedom of weekends means relatively nothing, I have managed to inject some excitement back into those Saturdays and Sundays with a Grand Prix. Teach me the rules of a sport or a game, sit me in front of the telly, and after roughly 20 minutes, I’m hooked. It doesn't take much to get caught up in sport, for me anyway. Sport is war. It is grit. It is tactics. It is bountless energy fuelled by sheer emotion and heart. All of that is true for both spectators and athletes. And I hope that it will remain so.
References:
Biscaia, R., Correia, A., Rosado, A., Maroco, J., & Ross, S. (2012). The effects of emotions on football spectators' satisfaction and behavioural intentions. European Sport Management Quarterly, 12(3), 227-242. doi: 10.1080/16184742.2012.679949
First off, sport is emotional as hell (which is quite ironic since the consumption of sport is primarily viewed as a male or masculine activity. Bizarre then that watching an event both live and retrospectively can cause me - and others - to do the most ‘girly’ thing ever, which is cry). I honestly could not tell you the amount of times I have teared up watching rugby games, for example. Johnny Sexton’s drop goal at the death in Paris in 2018, and Robbie Henshaw planting the ball over for a try in Chicago 2 years previously, sealing a first-ever test victory for Ireland against New Zealand, HAD. ME. IN. BITS. Similarly, the tears flow freely when things aren’t going our way. Exhibit A: losing to Japan in the group stages of the 2019 World Cup. I was meeting a friend afterwards in town for brunch and I genuinely considered cancelling due to ‘bereavement’. You can laugh, but that’s how truly devastated I felt at the time. I’m sure I’m not alone when I list nail-biting, full-body-clenching, hand-wringing, and restless-leg syndrome as just some of the many ways emotions course through my body in the duration of a sporting event, especially one that is down to the wire and/or includes a team or individual to which I feel particularly attached.
Science has a lot to say about this too. Several studies have been conducted which dive deep into the connection between fans and their sports teams, and how fans’ emotions ebb and flow as the game in question unfolds (was gonna cite the papers below, but figured I'd leave you with some homework on this one). A line that stood out from a study of Portuguese soccer fans conducted by Biscaia and colleagues was that, regardless of outcome, “sporting events are consumed primarily for enjoyment” (2012, p.236). And of course this is the case! If we as fans threw in the towel after one loss, there wouldn’t be supporters left! We have to believe things will get better (just look at the Mayo football fans, for example, the hardiest bunch I have ever come across).
It goes without saying that sport teaches us life lessons. We learn how to accept the heartbreak of defeat, and how to appreciate the sheer joy that accompanies victory. We know not to become too complacent or feel too low, as neither emotion or state will last forever. In recent years, consuming sport has become an expression of what it means to be alive. Being in the AVIVA Stadium for the 2017 Six Nations hearing La Marseillaise ring in my ears, or witnessing the All-Black Haka performed before my very eyes the day we clocked our first home win against New Zealand in 2018, had me rearing to go and jumping to my feet and throwing my hands up in the air and screaming and whooping and shouting and hugging whoever was with me at the time (usually my equally fanatic dad). Sport, ultimately, teaches us what it is to feel human.
Having acknowledged that, viewing sport through the lens of COVID-19 has brought a lot of the unsaid and the unnoticed into focus too. It’s only really now, as athletes face off against each other in empty stadiums, that we truly appreciate the ability of the crowd to influence the game. Home advantage means very little in a post-pandemic world, which in a way can be seen as good, since getting a win will ultimately boil down to talent and game-preparedness. That said, numerous sportspeople have commented over the last 12 months on how odd it is to be playing in games of tantamount importance that are completely spectator-less. The only people for whom the acknowledgment of that fact hurts even more are the spectators themselves.
The impact of COVID has also changed my consumption of and connection with sport in that, with all my extra down-time, I have begun following new sports. During the Hallowe’en break of 2020, a time of year when I would usually be abroad, I instead found myself glued to the Indian Premier League cricket, something I still keep up with 7 months later. Similarly, the Netflix series ‘Drive to Survive’, which has documented the last 3 seasons in Formula 1, gave me a flavour for this very niche sport, and now, in a world where the freedom of weekends means relatively nothing, I have managed to inject some excitement back into those Saturdays and Sundays with a Grand Prix. Teach me the rules of a sport or a game, sit me in front of the telly, and after roughly 20 minutes, I’m hooked. It doesn't take much to get caught up in sport, for me anyway. Sport is war. It is grit. It is tactics. It is bountless energy fuelled by sheer emotion and heart. All of that is true for both spectators and athletes. And I hope that it will remain so.
References:
Biscaia, R., Correia, A., Rosado, A., Maroco, J., & Ross, S. (2012). The effects of emotions on football spectators' satisfaction and behavioural intentions. European Sport Management Quarterly, 12(3), 227-242. doi: 10.1080/16184742.2012.679949
Comments
Post a Comment