Hooliganism at Euro 2016 is tarnishing a beautiful game
A few days in and already international soccer’s second biggest tournament is a battleground, not only for Europe’s finest teams and players but also, lamentably, for the ignorant seam of idiocy that poisons what is known as the beautiful game.
Hooliganism, the moronic pursuit whereby rival fans use patriotic or tribal allegiance as an excuse for criminal thuggery, has reared its head at the European Championships in France.
It is an ugly head, a snarling, cursing, baiting, belligerent one, with concern for neither decency, the law, nor the safety of innocents.
Across the country violence erupted over the weekend, with scenes of riot police throwing tear gas, warp-minded men throwing beer bottles and the whole sorry saga throwing any hope of a peaceful event out of the window.
Marseille became the early epicenter, yet it is sadly probable that other venues around France will also be stained as the tournament progresses. It was in the southern port city where havoc reined in the build up to and aftermath of England’s 1-1 tie with Russia in Group B on Saturday.
Bloody exchanges took place on the city’s central streets, then more. Since the 1980s, England fans have long carried a reputation as perpetrators of hooligan activity, a tag that may never be fully shed.
Russia has seen a more recent explosion in hooliganism over the past decade. For some, the Euros is a chance to watch an outstanding level of soccer. For those with violent intent, it was a perfect excuse for a scrap.
In this instance the Russians have been identified as the primary instigators and that country’s national soccer federations is now likely to face sanctions, according to European soccer governing body UEFA. England appears to have escaped immediate punishment, though UEFA warned that either or both countries could be thrown out of the event if any other flare-ups occur.
Hooligan groups are like playground bullies, determined to prove their own toughness and worth, and knowing of only one way to do it. Therefore local hooligans from Marseille also waded into the mix, as the police tried but failed to keep control.
Images littered the internet of punches hurled, chairs and tables tossed and bystanders bloodied in pre-game skirmishes close to the Stade Velodrome. Then, after the final whistle, Russian fans burst en masse through what should have been a security cordon to attack England supporters.
If hooliganism is a new concept to you, just know this. There are no innocents among those who go looking for trouble. The only innocence comes from those caught in the crosshairs, people going about their daily business who accidentally took the wrong turn onto the wrong street and ended up victims.
Hooliganism is soccer’s greatest scourge, one that appeared to have been largely cosigned to the past but still ready to appear, like a snake, when the conditions are right.
That is the case this summer. France is an easily accessible venue, a short ferry ride from England, a manageable flight from Eastern Europe. It is also compact, meaning fans of different teams often end up in the same city, on the same trains, or within passing distance of each other.
In Nice, Poland and Northern Ireland fans fought before those teams were due to square off on Sunday.
Hooligan fights are often portraits of cowardice. Men will use colleagues as a barrier before lobbing beer bottles or other missiles at rivals 100 feet away. Some will rush up behind an opponent and strike a sucker punch blow to the back of the head or the private parts. Sometimes, but not as often as you might think, the combatants stand toe to toe, duking it out. That is often when the most damage is one. Kicks to the head of downed fighters, blows with brass knuckles or other weapons, are commonplace.
It is pathetic, isn’t it? One of the most stupid things about it all is that so many of the chief perpetrators are not disgruntled youths letting off steam, but grown men, many in middle age, some with respectable, high-paying jobs.
But they got a taste for this bloody brotherhood in the 1980s and can never fully shake it, never resist the adrenaline rush that a twisted mind receives from inflicting pain and yelling racist epithets.
“ISIS, where are you,” yelled one group of England fans as it clashed with North African immigrants based in France while in Marseille, according to reports.
The ignorance is mind-blowing, the contempt for it total. The violence springs up in a heartbeat, often ignited by one moron with too much alcohol inside him, incited by some perceived slight or glance from a rival.
And then they are off again, rampaging and rioting, fighting and scampering away. Just soccer’s most loathsome subsection being a law unto itself, doing its worst, relishing the carnage, dirtying the sport’s name.
You can follow Martin Rogers on Twitter @mrogersUSAT