Soccer Pubs and Social Justice

Let’s face it; unless you’re under the age of 10, soccer just isn’t that cool. Somewhere after that glorious period of mobbing the ball with nine of your friends through fields of dandelions while shrieking screams, the sport becomes drastically less cute and increasingly more boring for parents (and everyone else for that matter) to watch.

In high school, soccer is the activity you participate in because you got cut from the football team, didn’t have the talent for the fall musical, recently moved to the area from a foreign country, or clumsily fell down the rungs of the social ladder due to unimaginable acne and ill-placed moles.

You don’t get cheerleaders. There is no pep-band. The field is only available if other varsity teams aren’t using it. The jerseys have been recycled from the eighties and the shorts are awkwardly short. There is no P.A. announcer, and even the bleachers remain mostly empty. The scores remain mysteriously banned from the school newspaper, and the team is mistakenly left out of pep-rally celebrations.

Even a quirky sport like tennis has star-power with the likes of Rafa Nadal and Roger Federer. And didn’t Andy Roddick once date a Hollywood actress? Soccer has: Pele? Beckham? Is the sport even on television?

For those who survive the grueling adolescent experience, adulthood hardly offers any relief. The old high-school social structures are still upheld via the millions of sports bars that simultaneously show twelve different football and basketball games, and whose beer-bellied, zubas-clad patrons would probably die laughing if they heard you even mention the word ‘soccer’.

If you were to try to find the sport on television, you would quickly find that the major media outlets tout the NFL, the NBA, Nascar, the MLB, the PGA, the NHL, NCAA football, NCAA basketball, poker and an array of other sports before even considering soccer. As a last resort (after lacrosse, skateboarding, and dog shows) a match will get some coverage (which usually consists of the United States National Team losing).

But for the lucky few Americans who manage to discover international soccer, there is consolation: a seemingly other-worldly dimension exists outside of the reality that we live in. These rare but heavenly-like realms of hope usually appear in the form of a local pub, where congregants crowd in for breakfast and beer while watching soccer being played live at venues located all over the world.

Upon entering these hideaways, there is roar of indistinguishable chatter. French, Spanish, Arabic, German, Portuguese, Swahili, and an array of other languages, dialects, and accents rise and fall in correlation with the movement on the field, and before long you’ll be able to effectively use curse words in five various languages.

A soccer pub is a melting pot, and unlike most sports bars, people love to have conversations. You’ll learn about kings, presidents, chancellors, tribes, dictators, and hear about the rise and fall of nations, culture, families, and individuals all at once. It’s a place to connect with the world. Themes of social justice are almost intrinsic to the atmosphere.

The Iranians worry about the safety of their families back home. The Italians discuss the foreign policy, specifically related to their joint ventures with the U.S. military. The French and British complain about immigration and refugee issues. The Portuguese and Germans muse over national employment rates. The topics are endless, and if you engage, you’ll quickly learn more about a culture than what any book or class can teach.

Once inside the pub, social lines are erased and replaced with the banner of one’s favorite soccer club. We chant along with the televised crowds. We watch as an occasional riot breaks out and fires erupt throughout the stadium. We curse the referee and accuse our foes of diving.  We cheer the streakers and laugh at their drunkenness. We erupt upon scoring and seethe upon losing. When the game is done, we finish off our Guinness and return to the previous discussions of worldly and personal affairs.

It was by sheer chance that I discovered this subculture of soccer, politics, and culture (exclusively soccer-type pubs are very hard to find), but now I’m addicted. Experiencing this cult-like society, with its honest, diverse, and intriguing qualities, heightens a person’s state of awareness regarding war, injustice, and wrongdoing within our world.

Suddenly, the international articles I read about on the back pages of my daily paper are much more personal and meaningful because I know the faces, stories, and background behind what’s being written. My friends have families there. Real people with real lives are at stake. I’m filled with a newfound sense of urgency.

This is how soccer has saved me from being apathetic. The soccer pub is an encyclopedia where information is gathered and obtained through relational experience. My comfort zones are expanded and broken when I learn about various religions, traditions, histories, and the personal experiences of people who derive from all sorts of locations and circumstances. It’s worth it. Even if you don’t know anything about soccer, or just plain hate the sport, try visiting a place like this and see what happens.