Beauty in tribalism but it’s best left on footy field
I LIKE all times of the year – but there is something extra special about this time – especially if you follow one of the various football codes and your team is travelling well. The ground is starting to warm. The blooms are budding and there is hope that your tribe will hold that special cup aloft come late September or early October. Stay with me people this will not be all about football.
Maybe I take this football thing too seriously (OK, I know I do) but in recent times I’ve reflected on my connection with my team. A friend told me in jest a few rounds ago that she could never tip my team again after witnessing their thuggery on a Friday night fixture. I was aghast. I must have been watching a different game. My team “always play fair”; my team are “the good guys”. It is the others who are the thugs. It is the others who always seem to get the referee’s call when it comes to friendly penalties.
When players wear my colours they are the very definition of integrity and fair play. When they leave my club (e.g. a certain plane that barely gets out of the hangar down the Gold Coast way) they are dead to me.
And it goes even deeper than this. When the teams I follow (because I am Catholic in my football faith and cross codes) fall foul of the law, literally, somehow it is not the players’ fault. I can still believe that I am on the side of righteousness and good, which is no mean feat when you have followed the Parramatta Eels and Essendon Bombers through 2016.
There is a beauty and a danger in tribalism but I think it is something best left on the football ground or with whichever sport ticks your box.
Tribalism or clan lies at the very heart of so much that is destructive in the world in which we live. Refugee camps around the world are full to brimming because one clan or one tribe thought that it was superior and right above all others.
The violence that currently stalks some of our globe’s most beautiful public spaces like a dark shadow can also be tracked to the skewing and distorting of tribe or clan. We see shadows of this in debates around things such as same sex marriage.
The media, especially of the social kind, feeds off binaries. We read what supports our views, our tribe, and denigrates the other, the opposition. This echo chamber prevents true dialogue and the ability to listen to each other.
And yet for me the most powerful moments, the times that really count, are when we venture outside of our tribal boundaries and celebrate our common humanity.
I bring to mind a young man who attended the Dignity Project legal clinic a few months back. A man who has fled for his life and has been told at every turn, “You don’t belong here. Go back to where you come from. You are not welcome.” This gentleman happens to be of Muslim faith. He quietly approaches me and thanks me for what we’ve done. He asks me if there is any opportunity that he can use his van on a Sunday to collect and transport some of the newly arrived Syrian families to church.
I think of the many good people who every day reach out to those in need and forget about their old club colours.
Bring on the finals!
I think of the many good people who every day reach out to those in need and forget about their old club colours.