Football is commonly referred to as the beautiful game. Whilst to me this seems rather comical on account of the fact that my side - Glasgow Rangers - are often involved in what can only be described as scrappy, unattractive tussles, I accept that the vast majority see the game as a wonderful exhibition of elegance, skill and dexterity.
Viewing the likes of Zinedine Zidane, Diego Maradona or Johan Cruyff can be an utter pleasure; there is no doubting that. However, there is no denying the fact that to lefties like myself, football presents one of the greatest conundrums in life. How and why do we enjoy spending so much of our time watching, scrutinising and complaining about a weekend's footy action; a sport that, after all, promotes inequality, makes role models out of what would traditionally be considered scum and idolises wife-beating alcoholics?
Up until Jimmy Hill started complaining in 1960 that footballers were not being paid enough for their weekly (90minute) exertion, there was a £20 a week cap on players' wages. Prior to the removal of this policy, footballers were ordinary, approachable athletes, committed to their club and proud to pull on their team's jersey. Every game meant something to them. They wanted to win not just for themselves, but for the club and its fans. Nowadays, in a time when footballers can earn anything up to £300k a week, the game has lost its charm and character. Footballers no longer care for their clubs; instead they merely sniff out the biggest pay packet on offer. Of course, there are a few honorary exceptions, but they are well and truly part of a minority. Take the case of Samir Nasri. His move to Manchester City from Arsenal was smothered in controversy after he publicly declared that he was joining a club with "more passionate" fans; this, an unforgivable dig at a club that had dared to pay him just £90k a week.
Now let us look at what mass wages have caused. 2010's so-called "national hero" Wayne Rooney reportedly earns a weekly salary of £250k. Yet, due to an unapologetically sickening tax avoidance loophole, he might get away with paying as little as two percent on his earnings. He is not alone. Many other footballing stars are also managing to avoid paying their 40 percent income tax. Just think what Rooney's saving of £600k over the last two years could have achieved. Think how many SureStart centres could have been kept open. Think how many maternity wards could have been saved. You get the crux of my point. Our "national hero" may be great on the pitch but he is not doing his bit for the country. Aside from tax avoidance, unlimited income within football has also led to a culture whereby youngsters desire a massive salary for very minimal work. Essentially, football gave birth to today's X-Factor generation where kids expect lots of money despite possessing very little in the way of talent.
As a passionate liberal, every bone in my body yearns for equality. Football, for all its great qualities, lets me down once more. It takes an evil individual to taunt and mock a homeless person on the street or an elderly lady living on less than £100 per week. But that kind of ridicule takes place on a weekly basis around our many football stadiums. Whenever England are playing nations such as Macedonia or Liechtenstein, the pre-match analysis - usually conducted by pampered multi-millionaires - will often involve teasing and laughing at the supposedly weaker side. Somehow, a country with a population of 2,000,000 is meant to match a country boasting a plethora of talent from its 51,000,000. This kind of discrimination and blind prejudice is part of football coverage's furniture. So imagine the pleasure I get out of skipping ahead to the half-time analysis when the score remains 0-0; grinning whilst witnessing seasoned commentators pathetically making their excuses: "It's too hot for them" and "they've had a long season" amongst the most laughable.
In the aftermath to the recent "Battle of Britain" match between Heart of Midlothian and Tottenham, much has been made of the "gulf" between the sides following Tottenham's 5-0 victory. The English have enjoyed poking fun at the state of Scottish football with Tottenham manager Harry Redknapp joining in the fun: "There is obviously a big gulf". What has failed to gain a mention is the fact that Tottenham's squad cost approximately £190million whereas the Hearts side cost just £8million. Is it any wonder there is such a gulf? But still we mock. It is the footballing equivalent of Paris Hilton walking around a counsel estate in Glasgow jangling her Ferrari keys at all the unemployed, underprivileged residents. Yet, for some unknown reason, we lefties still indulge in such behaviour. Naturally, as a Rangers fan, I poke fun whenever our bitter rivals Celtic taste defeat; even in Europe when it would surely make more sense to support the Scottish side. Childish? Yes. Pathetic? Yes. But for some reason - unbeknown to man - we still do it. I, like the English, cheer on Scotland whenever they face weaker opposition, even though my left-wing instincts are urging me to support the underdog. Perhaps sporting affiliation is stronger than ideological preference?
Undoubtedly, the most damaging phenomenon to emerge from football is our ill-judged hero worship. Take two of footballs most talked about and admired individuals: George Best and Paul Gascoigne. Both were unquestionably extremely talented. They dribbled past defenders as though they did not exist and scored some truly memorable goals. However, their lives do not end on the pitch. Off the field, their exploits have not been so admirable. Both are prolific wife-beaters and shameless alcoholics. Alex Best, George's second wife, has numerously spoken of her bad experiences living with this footballing icon. He regularly beat her and, in general, made her life an ongoing misery. Bizarrely, the British public incessantly refer to her as being a gold-digger, despite the fact that George was broke when Alex married him. One forum contributor even went as far as saying, "Yeah, I'm almost glad he hit her". This is one of the many destructive side-effects of hero worship; you lose perspective and become immoral.
Paul Gascoigne is no better. His life has been riddled with alcohol and he too regularly beat his long suffering partner Sheryl. Despite this, fan pages with millions of followers are dedicated to his career; conveniently ignoring his many personal flaws. Modern versions also exist. Take Joey Barton for instance. This arrogant young man was arrested in 2007 over the assault of an innocent taxi driver, was charged with violent conduct when he beat up his black team-mate on the training ground and was jailed for a drunken attack on revellers in Liverpool. Yet he is still allowed to play week in week out for his club and is heralded as one of Britain's best midfielders. Young football fans turn up to watch him perform; some, totally oblivious to the fact that he is an aggressive, vile monster. But this is apparently besides the point. The point is entertainment. We are not supposed to delve deeply into their lives and judge them as human beings. No. We instead are encouraged to look on them as untouchable Gods that can do no wrong.
Nevertheless, football is a passion of mine and, despite its many faults, it does keep me consumed over a weekend. The difference is, I can take a step back and see the blemishes of the beautiful game. Most cannot. When talk of wife-beating and alcoholism occur, most football fans switch off, proclaiming, "Yeah, but he scored a great goal last night". This seemingly dismisses him of his crime. It is imperative that whilst we look appreciatively at the great aspects of football, we also need to highlight the ugly sides of the game. The bigoted viewpoints. The unacceptable belittlement of weaker beings. The whole notion of a footballing "role model". These balance - if not outweigh - the positive segments of the sport and we can only begin to address these problems if we first recognise them.
All in all, football is an enjoyable - if a little overwhelming - beast. It allows lefties to taste a drop of nationalism that they would never normally condone in day to day life. But what the Left must do to truly justify their approval of such a foreign animal is to do their bit by underscoring the negative attributes of an otherwise brilliant institution. Let us not forget that before the big money salaries and the big money transfers, football was a working-class sport. Unlike rugby, it represented an opportunity for uneducated and underprivileged kids to shine and compete. It promoted team spirit and fair play and championed equality. How we long for those days to return once more. Until it does, football shall remain a troubling - if enjoyable - conundrum.