A few weeks ago, I made a generalised attack on the culture of elite sport and the extent to which professionalism has detracted from the true nature and value of sport.
So it is only fair to acknowledge when professional sport excels itself – as it has done over the course of the last week.
One week ago, the football and wider sporting world was rocked by the tragic death of Wales national manager Gary Speed. The resulting outpouring of emotion finally and rightly gave the lie to the (in)famous Bill Shankly line: “Football is not a matter of life and death. It’s more important than that.”
Instead, Speed’s passing showed football in a compassionate light it is not often associated with. Shrines were spontaneously set up at Elland Road, Goodison Park, St James’ Park, the Reebok Stadium, Bramall Lane – the homes of clubs Speed played for during his twenty-year career – as well as grounds across Wales.
Initiatives by those clubs – including wreaths being laid a playing of the Welsh national anthem at Everton and the plan for 52,000 Geordies to sing Welsh hymn Bread of Heaven in unison at the Swansea game on 17 December – were welcome.
But perhaps more notable was the generosity of spirit shown by fans, and not just those of the clubs Speed represented. Each Premier League game this weekend was preceded by a minute’s applause for Speed, as well as chants of his name from fans of teams he never even played for.
Speed’s name chanted at Chelsea v Liverpool – neither of whom he ever represented: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_baqt3jDJSI&feature=player_embedded
A friend said his mother, who had no links to Speed, had cried during the tribute at Leicester City’s Walkers Stadium. Shay Given and Craig Bellamy, friends and teammates of Speed, showed great courage to play in matches this week despite their obvious distress. John Carver, Newcastle’s assistant boss who worked with Speed at St James’ Park and with Sheffield United, was comforted throughout the applause by fourth official Mark Halsey.
England and Wales football fans have not always had the warmest of relationships, so it was moving to see that laid aside for the sake of Speed, with Welsh flags adorned with messages to the midfielder fluttering in the crowd at Leeds and Newcastle, amongst others.
The shock and grief at Speed’s death did not only unite opposing fans, it also transcended sports. At the Millennium Stadium yesterday, applause for Speed rained down from the stands prior to Wales taking on Australia.
That match, the last international before retirement for Wales’s little winger Shane Williams, provided another heart-warming instance to dispel some of the cynicism surrounding professional sport.
Williams wept during the rendition of Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau, in the process reducing much of the crowd to tears themselves. Wales lost 18-24 to the Wallabies, but Williams crossed for his 58th and final international try with the last play of the match, sending 62,000 people into raptures.
The atmosphere was incredible, surreal. Wales had been outgunned by a more clinical and apparently hungrier outfit. For much of the second half, it was painful to watch. The stadium felt flat.
But Williams’ try – skipping past Berrick Barnes before scampering over one final time – rejuvenated the crowd. Nobody seemed to notice or care Wales had already lost. This was Shane’s moment, and all that mattered was that he had the chance to say goodbye in style.
Shane Williams and his family after his last international against Australia yesterday
A win would have been nice, but we cared more for Shane than for the result of what was, after all, a friendly match. Fans stood for the winger, to thank him for his commitment to the Welsh cause for more than a decade, to celebrate with him, to join him in his emotional farewell.
This was not about winning at all costs – it was about a more human side. It was a demonstration that while victory is the ultimate aim of a sportsman or woman, it should not be the sole focus. Grassroots sport, by its non-elite nature, recognises that.
Over the past week, with rivalries set aside after the passing of a legend, and with an international crowd celebrating one man’s achievements rather than reacting negatively after the defeat of their nation, a fundamental characteristic – the value of sport in emotional rather than monetary terms – has been revealed to be present at the top levels of sport on a scale that is sometimes obscured.
