GOM World Cup Diary #4: Whatever Happened to Just Watching the Match?
I spent part of yesterday watching football supporters watching football.
Which, when you think about it, is a rather strange thing to do.
The World Cup is one of the greatest sporting events on the planet. Fans travel thousands of miles, spend eye-watering sums of money on flights, hotels and tickets, and finally find themselves sitting inside a stadium watching the best players in the world.
And then they spend half the match looking at their phones.
Everywhere I looked, somebody was filming something.
They were filming the players warming up.
Filming the national anthem.
Filming the crowd.
Filming themselves filming the crowd.
At one point I think I saw somebody filming another person who was filming somebody else.
It was like a digital version of Russian dolls.
One gentleman appeared to record almost the entire match.
Now perhaps he had a very good reason.
Perhaps FIFA had personally appointed him Official Backup Cameraman.
Otherwise, I’m struggling to understand the plan.
The television coverage already includes dozens of cameras, drones, slow-motion replays and angles capable of showing what a player had for breakfast.
I’m not sure the world also needs a shaky recording taken from Row 37 Seat B.
The thing I don’t understand is why people seem so determined to capture the moment instead of simply enjoying it.
When I was younger, if your team scored a goal, you celebrated.
You jumped up.
You cheered.
You hugged complete strangers.
You spilled your drink.
Sometimes all four at once.
The memory stayed with you because you were actually there.
Nowadays it feels as though people are collecting evidence.
As if nobody will believe they attended a football match unless they produce 247 videos and a gallery full of selfies.
And don’t get me started on the people who watch the game through their phone while sitting in the stadium.
You’ve paid hundreds of pounds for one of the best seats in the house and then chosen to recreate the experience of sitting in your living room.
It’s like going to Paris and spending the entire trip looking at postcards.
Mind you, perhaps I’m just getting old.
Maybe this is how football is enjoyed nowadays.
Maybe the future consists of 80,000 people attending a match and then watching it through a screen.
If so, I shall continue doing things the old-fashioned way.
I’ll watch the football.
And if something amazing happens, I’ll trust my memory to remember it.
After all, that’s worked reasonably well for me since 1966.
Anyway, what do I know?
I’m just a grumpy old man.
