Soccer and U.S. Saturnalia

So this afternoon I was listening to an enthused Ghanan holding forth on his predictions for the upcoming U.S.-Ghana soccer match in the world cup. Several times during the interview, I audibly yawned, and my mind drifted.

"Who cared?" I thought. I have my sports that I get worked up for, and I have enjoyed playing soccer as a youth, but international competitive soccer remains for me a bore.

Is this an unthinking collective engagement on my part? Maybe. But I'm not ashamed of it. American indifference to soccer is an important part of our cultural identity, and I embrace it fully. But it is not, I believe, simply one more instance of American exceptionalism, baffling and annoying the world. It is, I believe, something more.


In ancient times, many kingdoms, including the Romans had a version of the Saturnalia festival. This was an extended festival - usually about one week - that was held every so often- perhaps every seven years or when the king died, etc. The point of festival was that for the proscribed duration, the class roles of the society would be reversed. Servants would order their masters around, and noblemen would act in general subservience to their "inferiors." It must have been a rollicking good time (at least for the inferiors), and when it was over, steam was blown off and the normal, unfair order of things could return.

I think you know where I am going with this.

Worldwide resentment of the U.S. is nothing new. Despite the average American's innate isolationism and indifference to the ridiculous tribulations of global populi, the U.S. remains a world leader. Deep in our hearts, despite our nearly universal preeminence, we dearly wish that other countries would fully play by our rules so that they would be equal tradesmen and not merely "oppressed" "quasi-colonial" underlings. We really do. But since they don't, the default position is one of US supremacy.

This puts us largely in the position of the monarchs and noblemen of old. We are the masters, and the world, the servants. We remain largely indifferent to this fact, the world remains acutely aware of it, quietly (or not so quietly) seething, chafing, and waiting for their ascent to power which will never come.

Well, it is my contention that to let off this steam, we have had - for decades now - a kind of Global Satunalia, in which, for the time being, the U.S. is treated as just some other random country in universal competition, and even a suck a lowly land as Ghana is given equal or superior coverage in the context of the "universal" sport of soccer.

In what other arena would the U.S. and Ghana be seen as equal players, or even players in which the advantage was to the small African nation? None that I can think of. And yet for this moment, the boyish enthusiasm in the Ghanan commentator's voice betrayed his glee not just that his team might win, but that it might (once again) fell the mighty U.S.! And the U.S. puts up with this - largely with indifference.

I think this is wise. I think this is very wise. I think the U.S.'s mediocrity at "the world sport" is - if not a deliberate political calculation - an extremely suitable way to placate the resentments of the world. Let them feel the thrill of trampling on their master's toes for a moment- once every four years. Let it last a couple of weeks, and then let the normal order of regency restore itself. Simple as that.

That the U.S. has been doing unusually well this year (or so I've been told) does not bode well for us, in my opinion. For to require that we prove ourselves on the soccer pitch inversely mirrors our potential decline in global political preeminence. Let us hope it is not so.


Some have said that we simply need a U.S. superstar to bring soccer to life in the American psyche- A Beckham, A Jordan, a Woods to focus the celebrity receptor sites to the touchless game. But this is hooey. Deep down Americans know that soccer is the sop to the world's deflated ego. Let them have their 2-1 victories, their silly colored cards, and their penalty kicks. We know better than to get caught in the emotion and master the sport, lest the world lose its one safety valve for its groans under Uncle Sam's mighty boot.