Words used to describe black athletes also matter

THE words we use matter. We need to accept that some of them, even when deployed in all good faith, contribute to a problem deservedly back in the spotlight. So let’s talk about ‘pace and power’ — a shorthand term for the sort of backhanded compliment instantly familiar to generations of black footballers. And ask whether inequality is reinforced by the unconscious bias of often well-meaning coaches, ex-pros, pundits and punters. Because the issues highlighted by Raheem Sterling in his thought-provoking

Newsnight interview this week can’t be reduced to an argument about numbers. The dearth of black faces in leadership positions at football clubs, with one or two notable exceptions, can be traced back to the language we choose. Even world-class players of colour struggle to be taken seriously as aspiring coaches, consistently being denied opportunities afforded their white contemporaries, because of how we’ve conditioned ourselves to assess their skill set. Consider, for a moment, the kind of footballer generally considered to be a natural fit in management. He’ll be a great reader of the game. A really deep thinker. A problem solver. Now think about how rarely you’ll hear those terms used to describe a non-white player. When a black footballer makes a perfectly-timed run into the box, the first words out of a pundit’s mouth will be — you guessed it — some variation on the pace and power catchphrase. Never mind the game intelligence shown to spot the gap and exploit it. The fact that it takes ‘vision’ — another favourite term applied to many a pale-skinned midfield schemer — is ignored. Paul Pogba plays well? Oh, he’s a great athlete, obviously. Just bigger and stronger than everyone else, to quote one wellintentioned analyst word for damning word. Except he’s not actually that big. Nor is he more obviously athletic than, say, Steven Gerrard in his prime. It’s the same mental tic that reduces N’Golo Kante’s part in Leicester’s title triumph to a collection of impressive stats about ground covered. And those double standards start in youth football, where coaches and parents slip all too easily into comfortable stereotypes. As US women’s team star Crystal Dunn put it just a few days ago: ‘I often see black athletes praised for their speed, strength and tenacity. From an early age, we’re led to believe that this is all we contribute to the game.’ When those black athletes move into coaching, well, being renowned as someone with a great physique and tremendous engine — but not much else — obviously has an effect on those doing the hiring. Nobody’s being asked to ban specific turns of phrase. But we can all play a part in righting historical wrongs. Those of us who chronicle and comment on the beautiful game, for instance, need to choose our words more carefully. And hope that the ‘real football folk’ holding forth on the game in TV studios across Europe also mind their language.