Pique shatters a sporting stereotype by taking a brave political stand
Barca captain deserves credit for rejecting the belief that footballers should stay out of politics
It is tempting, in these tinderbox times, to regard Gerard Pique as Europe’s answer to Colin Kaepernick. Both have the gumption not merely to hold a steadfast political view, but to follow it through. Both are refreshingly dauntless, too, in speaking truth to power, whether in Pique’s mocking of posturing Spanish premier Mariano Rajoy – “he travels around the world without even knowing how to speak English” – or Kaepernick’s defiance of Donald Trump’s simplistic bombast about standing up for “our beautiful flag”. As all those kneeling for the anthem well know, it is not so much the flag for which America fought its defining battles as the values those stars and stripes enshrine.
Pique, likewise, is taking a stand to protect democracy itself. Pointedly, he has never declared for Catalan independence, merely affirming the right of the region’s people to vote in a referendum on the subject. There is further courage in the fact that he has spelt out the price he is willing to pay. For defending the prerogative of his people to go to the polls without being bloodied by the batons of riled-up riot police, Pique accepts that he risks losing his place in Spain’s national team. “If the board really thinks I’m a problem, I will take a step back and leave before 2018,” he said, after Sunday’s mayhem on the Barcelona streets.
Where Pique diverges from Kaepernick, though, is in the height from which he is prepared to fall. Many of Kaepernick’s detractors uncharitably argue that he has achieved far greater renown by snubbing the Star-spangled Banner than he ever did as a wildcat quarterback for the San Francisco 49ers. No such accusation could be levelled at Pique. He is the captain of Barcelona, the defensive talisman for Spain, the winner of four Champions League titles with two different clubs, not to mention two major trophies for his country. Such a body of work invests his political voice with resonance. But few in his position ever decide to use it. Pique has long been a sponsor’s dream, not just for his consistency of leadership but for his marriage to Colombian pop mega-star Shakira. Theirs is a priceless brand, and any thought of contaminating it with politics would normally give their PR gatekeepers the vapours.
Can you imagine, for example, David Beckham wading into a controversy so vexed and so charged with Pique’s level of conviction? Beckham has made many creditable contributions, not least to Unicef, whose name once adorned the shirts of Pique’s Barcelona, but charity tends to be safe territory. As for his political sallies, he has been scrupulously coy, save for backing Remain in the European Union debate and once describing Barack Obama as “amazing”.
There is little logic in trying to draw dazzling political apercus from our footballers. Usually, it is akin to expecting an insight into policy-making at 10 Downing Street from Larry the cat. It is just not the air they breathe, as Harry
Players run scared of a contentious comment just in case it jeopardises a boot contract
Kane amply demonstrated by his response to Britain voting to leave the European Union: “I woke up today and saw the news. I don’t think the lads are too focused on it, to be honest.” Mercifully, Juventus’s Giorgio Chiellini was on hand to offer a more constructive critique from the continent, claiming that “discontent shouldn’t lead to a vote for deregulation”.
Pique, evidently, is cut from the same cloth. He is engaged, informed, passionate, and most importantly has no qualms about upholding his conscience in the kangaroo court of social media. Does anyone still seriously think sport and politics cannot mix? In four days, ever since he spoke out tearfully against the violence of the security forces across Catalonia, Pique has become the lightning rod for anger on both sides of the divide. Rather than shrinking from such a role, or issuing some lily-livered clarification through his management, he has doubled down on his rhetoric. As he put it ahead of Spain’s World Cup qualifier against Albania tonight: “Why should a journalist or a mechanic be able to express himself, but not a footballer?”
The question is apposite, given the profile and audience that Pique enjoys. It is a curious hypocrisy of our age that players of his stature are expected to have a social conscience, that they draw plaudits galore for a brief visit to a children’s hospital, but that the moment they seize upon their platform to advance a political cause they find themselves traduced. Already, “Pique Out” banners have been unfurled, while there are suggestions of a rift between the centre-back and Spain’s captain, Sergio Ramos.
Often, adhering to one’s principles can seem too much effort by half. For years, Rory Mcilroy grappled with the dilemma of whether to wear the colours of Great Britain or Ireland at the Olympics, conscious of the sectarian backlash he would stir up either way. Having committed to Ireland, the perceived dangers of the Zika virus in Brazil last summer handed him an excuse to give Rio – and a torturous political inquisition – the swerve.
Andy Murray, likewise, has had his fingers burnt. When he emerged at the last minute in favour of Scottish independence in 2014, he received a welter of unspeakable online abuse. Chastened, he acknowledged: “It wasn’t something I would do again.” It is regrettable that a figure of Murray’s eloquence, glimpsed best in his attempts to ensure women in tennis are properly recognised for their talents, should feel gagged in this way. So poisoned is British political discourse that there is almost an expectation that our sports stars should be emasculated, mute, empty vessels devoid of independent thought.
For this reason, Pique’s stance merits applause. Indeed, he should be encouraged to pursue it with every fibre of his being. Sport ought not to suffocate in a vacuum, where players run scared of a contentious comment just in case it jeopardises their next boot contract. Sometimes, it is the most potent vehicle that exists for simply doing the right thing.