It’s been fashionable in Canada for many years now to mock those of us who have played and followed the world’s beautiful game.
As an advocate for freedom of speech, those who take joy from disparaging the tastes of others are certainly entitled to do so, although it has always struck me as an odd and unnecessary social strategy. For many of its victims, it was taken as the mainstream’s way of letting us know we don’t belong within it; that we are “others,” or as they say in Quebec, “les autres.”
It could be that fans of one game see fans of another game as a threat, or it could be a matter of people seeking social status by associating with what they view as superior while simultaneously disassociating themselves from anything less than that. The latter is a common practice, for instance, among Canadian NFL fans who feel the need to disparage the Canadian Football League without ever considering that if they really liked football, they could (and should) be a fan of both.
A similar pattern of thought occurs when comparing the two nations’ collegiate sports, even though Canadian university sports rarely get air time on Canadian sports channels and therefore few people are sufficiently informed to reach a credible conclusion.
One is left to conclude, therefore, that the behaviour has more to do with managing one’s self-assigned social status than it does anything to do with sports.
Regardless, the mocking behaviour has definitely been discouraging for the nation’s large numbers of soccer players (the sport has had more registrants than Canada’s signature game, hockey, for most of this century), coaches, and fans. It’s not always fun to feel pushed into a social catacomb.
There are many more dedicated Voyageurs (the name of Canada Soccer’s official supporters group) than I, but I’ve certainly worn footy’s heart on my sleeve for many years. At the same time, I’m a hockey, basketball, CFL, NFL, tennis, golf, Formula One, and, well, you name it fan.
I was in Mexico in 1986 to watch Canada’s first ever World Cup game—a 1–0 defeat to reigning European champion, France. I was in Edmonton for the famous “Iceteca” 2–1 win over Mexico, and in Toronto the day Canada clinched a spot in the 2022 World Cup in Qatar with a 4–0 trouncing of Jamaica. In the past three weeks I have travelled to Edmonton and Montreal for tuneup games and to Toronto for Canada’s nerve-wracking World Cup opener against Bosnia—a 1–1 draw and the men’s first-ever World Cup point. The powerful and deeply emotional singing of “O Canada” at the game and the tear on my cheek is a memory that will remain to my dying day.
And, as I did in Toronto, I joined the March to the Match in Vancouver where a mile-long parade of singing, chanting fans made their way to BC Place.
And then came the affirmation that, though many of us may have been in Edmonton, Montreal, Toronto, and Vancouver, we were joined by millions of others.
The game against Qatar was watched by 11.7 million people in Canada—about 28 percent of the population—who also shared in the occasion. While no sporting event in Canada is ever likely to match the 2010 Olympic hockey championship game, that’s 3 million more people than watched this year’s Olympic hockey final. It’s 5 million more than watched this year’s Super Bowl in Canada, and it was the largest audience for a footy match in Canada since the 2014 World Cup final between Germany and Argentina.
At the time of writing, Canada’s Jonathan David was tied with Argentina’s Lionel Messi as the tournament’s leading scorer.
It’s been a long and at times frustrating journey with a strong thread of social exclusion, but the moment of affirmation has finally arrived. Even if it’s not your thing, Canada, it is your country. Savour the moment and get ready to rumble.
Let’s go.
