Düsseldorf, Germany – It was supposed to be a glorious sporting weekend, with the Wimbledon final between Carlos Alcaraz and Novak Djokovic, as well as the finals of two great football tournaments: Copa America and Euro 2024. Tennis and football happen to be two sports that I follow, taking after my dad with whom I watched many memorable football and tennis matches—both at home and on site, as in 2015 when we memorably watched FC Barcelona and Real Madrid CF in their respective stadiums.
Such digression to the world of sport notwithstanding, we can never fully escape the realities outside the football stadiums and tennis courts. Hours before the Wimbledon final, I woke up to news of Donald Trump surviving an assassination attempt: A jarring and unnerving reminder of the political violence around the world. For Americans, the near-fatal shooting in Pennsylvania may have reminded them of the fateful assassination of John F. Kennedy in 1963, or the attempt against Ronald Reagan in 1981; as for me, I am reminded foremost of the spate of political killings during the Duterte administration, such as the still-unsolved murder of Los Baños mayor Caesar Perez at the height of the pandemic.
Around the time of the Trump rally shooting—albeit with much less media coverage—there were also reports of an Israeli attack on a “designated humanitarian safe zone” in Gaza, killing 90 and injuring 300 others. And of course, many other events were unfolding that are beyond the scope of our global and personal attention.
In many ways, sports is political: As many writers have pointed out, sporting bodies like Federation Internationale de Football Association and the International Olympic Committee were quick to condemn Russia for its war on Ukraine, and exclude it from sporting events, but have been largely silent when it comes to Palestine. Beyond such overt participation in politics, sports has largely reinforced and reproduced the order of things, serving as an instrument of nationalism, capitalism, and even the perpetuation of class as what the French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu called “cultural capital.”
Still, there are moments when sports can showcase human agency and potential in ways that transcend its structures. At least, there are times when it gestures toward transcendence and universality, even amid the ambiguous (and sometimes problematic) place it occupies in our society.
Lamine Yamal, the breakout star of Euro 2024, is illustrative of this. Yamal, who only turned 17 at the eve of the final, gave dazzling performances that earned comparisons not just to Lionel Messi but to Pelé himself; his stunning goal against France in the semifinal was easily the best of the tournament.
But it is his life story that is even more compelling. The son of two African immigrants—his mother, a waitress, is from Equatorial Guinea, and his father, a painter, is from Morocco—he grew up in Rocafonda, a marginalized neighborhood in Mataró, Spain, overcoming difficult circumstances to become a football wunderkind, via La Masia—the same training camp that gave rise to Messi.
Speaking of Messi, how astounding is that Yamal has pictures as an infant being cradled and even bathed by the Argentinian legend, then at the start of his stellar career? Surely, many say, it was a matter of destiny.
While such celestial coincidences make us feel good, however, we do not know what lies ahead in the future, whether for Yamal, his equally talented partner Nico Williams, or even for their compatriot Carlos Alcaraz, now the undisputed prince of tennis. Sporting heroes have been shaped by the world far more than they have shaped it, and Yamal may prove to be more of an Ansu Fati than a Messi. And there are other possible futures beyond sport: Once upon a time Manny Pacquiao was revered as a national hero and a global celebrity—before he plummeted into politics and bigotry.
Still, Yamal’s heroics, like Pacquiao’s victories in the past; like Carlos Yulo’s grace or Hidilyn Diaz’s strength; like the whole world uniting to appreciate a Federer, remind us of our better angels at a time when we need it the most. Which is why, with the Paris Olympics coming soon, I am rooting not just for the Philippine team—I have a good feeling about EJ Obiena’s chances—but for humanity itself: We need the spirit of Jesse Owens in 1936 more than ever.
Trump’s fighting spirit after his brush with death may have been admirable, but he is fighting for a world of walls; a world that privileges certain creeds and colors over others. I think back to my trip to the Rohingya camps in 2019, the sight of young men playing football amid their seeming futurelessness, and it reminds me of why we need to reject the rhetoric that fuels prejudice, hate, and inequality.
The world of Lamine Yamal and Nico Williams, on the other hand, is one of boundless possibility; of overcoming borders and barriers; of sport transcending age, generation, ethnicity, and nationality; of diversity being celebrated; of providence turning out for the good.
It is the world that I wish to be part of; the world I hope we do not preclude for future generations, which is why, even if perhaps somewhat naively, Lamine Yamal gives me hope.
—————-
glasco@inquirer.com.ph