The Beautiful Game (II)

We all know why it's such a popular game. It's rules are simple. Anyone and any number of people can play, on just about any surface in any area. All you need is a round ball. In other words, everyone can be a footballer. But why is it beautiful? I checked (on where else but the encyclopedia of the 21st century, Wikipedia) and learned that In 1977, the famous footballer Pelé named his autobiography My Life and the Beautiful Game. The book's dedication reads "I dedicate this book to all the people who have made this great game the Beautiful Game." The phrase has now entered the language as a colourful description for football and as such was used as part of the title for the 13-part series charting the history of the game: History of Football: The Beautiful Game.

For me, though, the game is beautiful not just for its simplicity and hence ubiquity but in 90 (and sometimes more) minutes, a match is played where victory is decided by very much the same principles that enable winning in real life. So taken was I by its applicability that I even wrote an article on lessons from it for The Edge, the local business weekly two years ago, specifically speaking on Andrea Pirlo's sublime penalty.

Rohit Brijnath had similarly cast the spotlight on this so eloquently, as usual:

"Sport, like life, is refreshed by beginnings, but for that there must be endings.

There is a wonder to the assembling of the jigsaw puzzle of a champion - idea, nerve, practice - yet a different beauty as it disassembles, as those parts corrode and he struggles to hold them together. In sport, before you go bad, you go slow. Yet every fading athlete tries. So did Spain. They tried pride, they tried Diego Costa again - who fits in this team like a bouncer in a ballet troupe - they tried the new, Koke, and the old, Torres. Nothing worked. Not the parts, not the whole. In winning two European titles and a World Cup, they lost one match, now already two. In those 19 matches, they let in a total of six goals. Now in two matches it was seven.

Winning, as Iniesta once told Lowe, takes suffering and perhaps they'd had enough. The elegance of their precision always obscured the sweat of their endeavour. Now a swarming Chile - once colonised by Spain - provided both a lesson in football and in history.

Football without the duet of Xavi, 34, and Iniesta (30, and still a force) will be less musical. In an infantile football world, they were grown-ups. In a game of cheap gamesmanship, they stood above. In a sport of loud egos, they exemplified dignity. In an activity littered with silly off-field headlines, they made none. In a planet consumed by how your hair looks, their style came from their feet. They played football, not games.

For an Asian, they fascinated, for many sports have grown out of our reach. Tennis is ruled by a top five averaging 186cm. In football, a study in 2011 noted that the average height of a player in Europe was 181.96cm. Yet there were these two, both 170cm and all midget mayhem, proving that mind beats muscle and providing this reassurance to the physically disadvantaged: There is no single route to greatness, you just have to find your own. It is why in tennis we cheer for the 178cm Kei Nishikori.

Some tired of Spain's obsession with pass and possession and of wins by squeaky margins (their last four wins at the 2010 World Cup were 1-0). But for me such greatness rarely goes stale, for Xavi, Iniesta, Barcelona, Spain, made football's fraternity think.

Passing, space, time, feel - none of this is new to sport, yet they made a generation look at these ideas again in a sophisticated way.It is why "era" doesn't fit them and we must look within art for a word for them: They were a school, a movement, a period.

It is enough to leave behind. Now Xavi may find a new sun in Qatar and Iniesta a new partner in Spain. Always, even for them, there are new beginnings. Tomorrow we will return to Brazil, to the Netherlands, but as Spain exit, they linger in the mind.

As a poet wrote, "Love is so short, forgetting is so long". The lines were written by Neruda. It just so happens he is Chilean."

To me, football, like life, can indeed be played and won by anyone. As Rohit pointed out, you just need to find the gameplan that suits you: that plays to your strength, that mitigates your shortcomings (no pun intended). But that gameplan cannot last. Your competition wises up and learn how to play against your style. What was once an advantage is no more, and in fact can be a disadvantage. Evolution and sometimes revolution is needed, where both the play book as well as the players must change.

Like Spain, England got booted out of the tournament having lost two matches. And the pundits decried their defensive frailties, but like his counterpart Del Bosque of Spain, I felt Hodgson relied for too long on his ageing stars and in fact both captains, for so long servants of the game for their country are responsible for the respective losses. The leader must know when change is required, up to and including changing his team, even the him/herself. 

Leadership is painful. G shared with me the sentiments of Pope Benedict who felt he could not muster the energy to bear the pain of tackling the problems, and leading a billion person institution. He sought divine guidance and was inspired to duly step down, so a new energetic leader can do so. It reminds me of Gary Neville, who while on million-pound contract, voluntarily retired early as he felt he could no longer play and contribute to his team, Manchester United. Closer home, one of my mentors, FH reinforced this notion as he moved on from one leadership role to another to enable a younger person to take over and lead the organisation in new ways.

Indeed, just as the second matches in the group stage are getting concluded, many of these lessons are already put into practice. Opponents adjust their tactics and the big boys all got caught out, or nearly so. Brazil got held to a scoreless draw by Mexico. Netherlands - so emphatic against Spain - nearly couldn't beat Australia (with Tim Cahill scoring a goal that would challenge Van Persie's as the best goal of the tournament), Germany - dominant against Portugal - was taken to task by Ghana. 

So the beautiful game is really a game of life; better than the board game of the same name that M enjoyed. It is so not only because everyone can play, not only because it's lessons are real for the game and in life, but also because it provides moments of drama, entertainment and ultimate joy (or pain). It is indeed the beautiful game!