In Sudan, when someone dies, their house is turned into “the house of crying”. During three days, the community comes together to grief. There are no colorful clothes, no laughter, no music, no TV, no joy. It’s a commitment to remembering, a fidelity to suffering.
8 years ago (8!!!!) I wrote something defending the world cup. my defense was basically that for a month problems disappear and we’re excited about something and it’s nice to be part of something bigger than you… at least for some days. mainly, long live to being absolutely ridiculous! I wrote about the impossibility of many things that happen in the world cup, like Mexico winning against Germany that time or Peru being in the world cup after I don’t know how many years. It honestly was just an excuse to quote one of my favorite football quotes:
I ask you to share my irrationality. Look up at the stars with me. Pigs are flying. Peru is in the World Cup.
I just don’t know which other sport can turn people into irrational and completely emotional beings. We Mexicans know that Mexico won’t win this world cup but… what if it does? We don’t know! There are people who prefer that Mexico wins the world cup than eradicating corruption in the country. Talk about irrationality.
In the video the Mexican team made to present the team (which I won’t share on the principle of it using AI pff), in many words, said it clearly: football in Mexico is one of the few truly democratic things we have. It doesn’t matter where you are or who you are, anything can turn into a football pitch, anyone can play (even me!).
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Last year I watched Copa 71, about the first women’s world cup that was organized ever. Mexico was the host. I hope you can watch it but if you can’t, here’s a spoiler for you… who do you think was the villain?
I bet you know. It was FIFA, of course. Besides the misogyny of the guys from FIFA, they thought that a women’s world cup would never attract anyone (so there was, of course, also no commercial reason to do it). They did whatever they could to stop it, even forcing the organizers to hold some games in the Azteca Stadium, knowing it would be impossible to pay for the costs because who would ever want to watch women playing football?
spoiler alert: they did it.
despite everything, they did it.
I can’t ignore the fact that they used sexist tactics to fill the stadiums but in the end, you don’t invite a Mexican to a football game twice.
And FIFA freaking knows this.
They know that people will sell houses, cars and other stuff to afford to travel and go to a game. They won’t care that they can watch games at home, they will pay tickets to go to fan zones that cost just to party with others because football is a collective thing, always. And if I start talking about the host countries (including my beloved Mexico), well, I won’t ever finish writing about all the terrible things happening there. People say “the ball has returned home” but thousands in Mexico won’t: all the people who have been forcefully dissappered in Mexico. FIFA can’t care less about them because they don’t care about anyone who can’t consume football.
Everything is political. Football is political and if you say it isn’t, well, saying that is ALSO POLITICAL. I’d love to have the privilege and lack of conscience to say that some things aren’t political but unfortunately I had the political privilege of studying and I also had enough lack of privilege to know that when someone says JUST CHILL AND RELAX that’s also political. But damn, even if you’ve been privileged, can’t you be empathetic?
Anyway, on one hand I’d love to watch the games and get excited and yell at the TV and share my excitement with others. BUT on the other hand I’m like, I HATE everything going on. I HATE that this is yet another thing capitalism has taken from us. I HATE that everything a world cup should be has been reduced to one despicable man giving a made up prize to another despicable man. I HATE that it’s only about the money, money, money.
I HATE that I can’t defend the indefensible anymore.
I HATE that everything I liked about the world cup now comes with tons of contradictions when this could be a celebration of one of the stupid things that make us humans: being absolutely ridiculous and irrational when a tiny ball rolls in a football pitch.
So that’s where I’m at. I’d lie if I’d say that the world cup doesn’t excite me in a way and that of course I will watch MI SELECCIÓN whenever I can (and the new Austrian classic in this household, Austria vs. Argentina which is another magical thing about the world cup, when would Austrians think they would play in a world cup with Messi on the same pitch? Pigs are flying, man!).
I’ll also have fun watching the three-way kisses from the koreans, how crazily people are partying and the Mexicans being the best hosts in the world (even though at times it feels we’re not even invited to the world cup) because in the end, football belongs to everyone and there’s also beauty in that: no matter how much I write shit about it or how much people say you should not enjoy it, people will keep enjoying it. And things will get done like in Mexico in 1971 and teams will win and miracles will happen.
And I know that all of this sounds like “I’ll go but I won’t have a good time” but I just feel that way. Once more, I hate that I can’t just enjoy this without thinking about all the freaking terrible things happening in the background. But I guess that’s my proposal and you can take it if you want. I just hope that the privilege we have to enjoy this thing won’t take away our empathy or our ability to question institutions and situations that aren’t fair. I hope we’re not ok with things like the world cup (among a million other things) bein totally, and irrevocably enshittified. It looks like we can’t have nice things without corrupt, spineless men ruining them.
I don’t have all the answers and, in fact, I have many questions. Mainly, should I get the black Mexican team jersey?
Is it ok to be joyful when the world is on fire? To have fun? To celebrate life? Is there relief in pausing suffering for a while and finding all those things that bring us together and make us human? Is it ok to stop, at least for a few minutes, being a house of crying and celebrate the things that make us happy? I say yes, but I also say that I contain multitudes and that I’d be nothing without them.
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