The Sports Vigil

Why I Love Sport – And Why I Question Its Integrity?

I’ve loved sport all my life, but the more I watch, the harder it becomes to not think about what’s wrong within it.

Why I Love Sport

Sport is part of the human condition. It’s that simple. It’s part of my human condition – not that it is a necessity to live, but it makes life much better.

People close to me sometimes ask why I care so much about sport — how I remember players’ names, or why I even watch press conferences.

Simply put, sport motivates me.

My dedication to sport is not something I expect to be understood – it’s just something that I’m passionate about, and when I’m passionate about something I enjoy pouring myself into it.

I just find it outstandingly gorgeous. Imagine…

One random day, navigating through TV channels you suddenly find a sports competition taking place on the other side of the world. It’s the first time you’re seeing it.

You don’t know the competitors, you don’t know the rules, but with some help from the commentators you slowly start to understand.

You watch, and you grow amused. In a flash, you’re captivated by one of the competitors.

Maybe it was their hair, maybe the colour they were wearing, maybe the way they walk, maybe the way they scream and shout to celebrate, or maybe the way they smile cheekily after a fumble – but suddenly a connection is formed.

Right there, right then, you just find them so loveable.

Now, intrigued by the competitor’s future competitions, you find yourself longing to watch another display of physical and mental contention.

This is how I became the sports lunatic I am today…

Sport is connection, nevertheless, it is also a business – and that’s why its integrity is important.

Why I Question Its Integrity

But when you obsess over something, you notice so much about it – including its flaws.

I love sport. I follow it obsessively, across continents and time zones. And that’s exactly why I can’t ignore the ways it’s potentially manipulated, corrupted, or compromised.

Take the Spanish Supercup for example.

A domestic competition between the top football clubs in Spain, typically the winner in the league’s previous edition and the prior domestic cup’s champion.

It suddenly started being hosted in Saudi Arabia in 2020 – I think that was the first time I truly thought ‘that’s a bit bizarre’.

It was moved in a deal reportedly worth more than €40 million per year, expanding the format to four teams to include the two runners-up of the respective competitions.

The Spanish Football Federation (RFEF) takes half of the deal’s value, with the other half being distributed unequally by the other clubs – Real Madrid and Barcelona typically receive a larger share.

I’m not criticising Saudi Arabia, or any other nation, for hosting major sporting events. Sport is global, and I think it’s great when fans around the world get to experience it live.

My issue is with the decision-making behind this change. A Spanish domestic competition being played thousands of kilometres from its local fan base. It feels less like expanding the sport’s reach and more like stretching its meaning.

Of course, Real Madrid and Barcelona are global teams, and some other teams like Atletico Madrid or Sevilla have foreign support.

But let’s say a lower division team miraculously made the Copa del Rey final, for example third division side Pontevedra, or even second division side Racing Santander – they’d basically have no support there.

Would their fans even be able to witness that moment in person?

The clubs would be making a crazy financial gain, but that memory could become impersonal.

RCD Mallorca in this year’s Supercup could only do a draw for season ticket holders in which 35 winners plus a guest got provided with travel to Jeddah and general admission tickets – accommodation and visa costs weren’t included.

It’d be difficult and expensive for local fans, or smaller clubs, to afford those costs.

Of course, another idea behind hosting the event outside Spain is to expose it to different audiences, but realistically all it does is tell us something we already know: Real Madrid and FC Barcelona are huge and will keep growing and dominating.

Though that idea poses an internal conflict to Spanish football’s long-term interests.

That’s only one example though – the questions keep piling up.

Why do some athletes face harsher doping sanctions than others? Why do certain media outlets relentlessly criticise some athletes while shielding others? How transparent are mega event bidding processes?

That tension between love and suspicion is what inspired me to start The Sports Vigil.

The Vigil

Fans, players, sponsors, media, staff and organisations are all stakeholders.

Love for sport is a mass phenomenon, with billions of eyes on it – but precisely in such a big crowd, it’s easy for details to get lost.

Governing bodies like FIFA, IOC, WADA, FINA, World Athletics all claim to safeguard integrity.

But they have interests of their own, and thus they are not beyond reproach. Any entity, individual or collaborative, has interests.

So how do we ensure that interests align with keeping the nature of professional sports fair and righteous? The hardest question though is: what is fair?

In the Spanish Supercup local fans lose, but clubs, federations, broadcasters, and international fans win. Who decides who’s ‘fair’ matters most?

I could get into prolonged debates of this sort, arguing in circles over what the world of sport should ideally look like.

That’s exactly what The Sports Vigil is.

An arena in which sport will be scrutinised – using data, examining different viewpoints, looking beyond the surface, and diving fully into both the beauty and the flaws of the games we love.

Now, my vigil begins…