From Banter to Violence: When Football Passion Crosses the Line
Football is a beautiful game. In Nigeria, where I’m from, we are divided along tribal lines, but, one thing that unites us all is our love for football. Once the Super Eagles play, be you Igbo, Yoruba or Hausa, all that gets thrown out of the window and everyone suddenly starts to speak with one voice—the voice of football.
Today, the most-watched league in the world is the English Premier League and no less in Africa. Almost anyone with male genitalia is affiliated with one club or another. From Chelsea, Arsenal, and Liverpool to Manchester United, every club’s fan base is represented to varying degrees.
Weekends are a delight as we get to watch our favourite teams, even La Liga, on the big screen. Whether it be in pub or a Viewing Centre, there are sure to be large crowds of people who turn up for each match to cheer their favourite team or, in some cases, boo their rivals and pray they lose. That is the beauty of the round leather game.
As such, banter is a common feature in the sport. While you cheer your team to win, there will be some groups of people praying fervently that your team loses so they have a good laugh at your expense. Today, you may find yourself cheering; tomorrow, you may find yourself doing the booing. It’s an endless cycle and that’s what makes football viewing so wonderful.
I am a person who tends to see the good in others. I tend to assume people are mature and, as such, I give them their respect even without them earning it. The same applies to football. I’ve got loads of friends camped in the opposition half, but that doesn’t make us any less friends.
Even during games and after, through the banter and all, we all share a laugh, pat each other on the back and even buy drinks for the losers to help cushion the effect of their loss. We think of it this way: None of our parents own shares in these clubs, so, why take it to heart?
However, it appears recent happenings have given me a rethink and made me realize the naivety of my ways. There appear to be some who are fanatics. They take this fun game to heart and begin to fight and clash over it, especially when they lose. I never thought of it this way, but I am now seeing a new light to it. It’s quite puzzling because I can never understand a person’s motivation for fighting (physically) over a football club that doesn’t know your surname or present economic challenges. So, why do it? Geez.
Only last week, in the aftermath of the Arsenal V Liverpool clash—where Mo Salah scored a late equalizer for Liverpool to draw the game, we got the news that a Manchester United fan was killed by an Arsenal fan. Why? Word had it that the United fan celebrated the Salah equalizer and this irked the Arsenal fan, so much so that he killed the other in annoyance. Gosh! I could hardly believe the news I heard.
Little did I know that more shock was in the offing for me, this time around, it would be a personal experience of what football extremism is and how football banter can fast deteriorate into violence. It so happened that I went to see Chelsea’s late-night game Vs Newcastle last Wednesday, as well as the Manchester City and other fixtures showing simultaneously on the night.
Not long after kickoff, some guy walks into the centre and starts a debate: “Saliba is the best defender.” I go, “best defender with zero trophies to his name,” and that sparks laughter among other viewers. Just light banter, no more. Next thing, this dude goes, “you just talk stupid sometimes,” and I go, “you must be very stupid for that comment; very stupid.”
He asks if I’m referring to him and I sarcastically tell him, “No, it’s those behind you.” The guys storm out of the centre and we think all is over and resume viewing the games.
A few minutes later, when everyone is fixated on the matches, this dude returns, but, this time around, armed with a machete. He circled round to the back—where I’m seated—and aimed to strike me with it.
For some reason, I look behind me, and see the machete in the air just as he is about to strike. I duck and he misses. I rush him with a barrage of punches to the face—which weakens him. Others join in and help disarm him. The dude then runs away the second time.
Believe me, I was shocked beyond words. The events of those 10 minutes weren’t what I envisaged when I set out from home that evening. I could, very well, have been struck with that weapon and incurred severe damages. Being a prayerful Christian, I could only muster words of thanksgiving to God.
This incident made me conduct a review of my approach to social life as it relates to football. Not every one that puts on a piece of clothing is normal. Some are just mad people who haven’t been diagnosed yet. Some have run mad from all the economic crises facing them under the terrible administration of Nigeria’s President, Bola Tinubu.
Insanity is in the air and just about anything can spark it and bring it to the fore. I could have ended up like the Ugandan killed by an Arsenal fan. Ironically, the guy in my incident is also an Arsenal fan. Coincidence? I don’t know.
What I have, one hundred per cent, resolved to do is to steer clear of any needless dialogue with persons who do not belong to my inner circle of friends and I implore you all to adopt the same approach.
Go to viewing centres or pubs and try, as much as you can, to keep a sealed lip. May Arsenal or Chelsea who do not know our family names be the reason we get gunned down or severely wounded.
Hmm. It is well.
