In
English football, one of the most debated players is Liverpool and Uruguay forward
Luis Suárez. Rumours – and even some visuals – of alleged misdeeds arrived
on British soil before he did in early 2011; since then, his list of perceived
sins is ... notable.
Luis Suárez
far more than a Black Hat bad guy or simple cheat. He is the single best example of the
dichotomy that exists between football’s rules and their on-field execution.
The
latest act in Suárez’s vile reign of terror occurred on Sunday as he scored a
decisive goal against 5th-tier Mansfield Town after controlling the ball with his
right hand. As always, intentionality – as fits his
narrative – can only be guessed at, especially when seen by a referee at live
speeds and without replay.
The
dictionary definition of cheating is to act dishonestly or unfairly to
gain an advantage. According to that black and white dogma, if
he deliberately controlled the ball with his hand, Luis Suárez cheated. Therefore, so did Thierry Henry, when he
controlled the ball to score his game-winner
against Ireland during World Cup qualifying in 2010. As has every player who ever earned a penalty
by simulation or popped an opponent with an elbow and escaped unscathed.
The word
“cheat” is not often used in sport. When
it is, it’s usually preceded by the adjective “drug”. It is a label to be avoided and the gravitas
of such a moniker isn’t taken lightly.
Add to this the multifactorial nature of any situation in sport, difficulty
in judging intent and simple urge to avoid litigation and it’s probably for the
best that the phrase isn’t bandied about.
As
ESPN commentator Jon Champion found out on Sunday, the term “cheat” doesn’t
provide for much wiggle room; it is a black-and-white descriptor that just
doesn’t sit right.
The
rules of a sport are just as monochromatic, and plainly as
two-dimensional. Unfortunately, the
field is green, white and most certainly encompassing not only third but fourth
dimensions. That they are enforced by
humans with (one presumes) opinions, reasoning skills, no replays and imperfect
positioning mean rules can only be best implemented
rather than perfectly applied. Referees
cannot be 100% correct and this means that players will accordingly risk sanctions
to try and gain an advantage.
Suárez
puts himself in positions to take those risks and obtain that advantage more
than almost anyone else in the game.
This doesn’t make him evil, or a cheat (unless you like black and white
descriptors); it makes him a pragmatist – someone who values results over
aesthetics. That he can shape matches –
and debate – to such an extent is actually a compliment, of sorts.
Luis
Suárez is not evil. Well, not as far as
I know, anyway. He has a knack for being
in the right (wrong?) place at the right (wrong?) time. And this rare talent gives him more
opportunity to display how much he’s prepared to trade for a Liverpool win.
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