‘Weeping at Vasermil’: players, fans and tears

ABSTRACT

This paper deals with the weeping of football players and fans during a game when some unexpected or extremely emotional event occurs, such as winning the championship, or being demoted to a lower division. Several decades ago, neither players nor fans dared to express their emotions by weeping in public, nor by hugging and kissing. Football (soccer) was considered ‘a man’s game’ and men don’t cry. In victory or in failure men restrain themselves – they did not shed tears. In recent decades things changed. When an extreme event occurs on the pitch, players and/or fans express their emotions and weep in public. This behavioural change on the football pitch seems to stem from changes in the cultural environment: The macho man skin has gotten thinner. The ‘new man’, the metrosexual, has replaced the ‘old man’; he is now allowed, even encouraged, to cry. The case study for this paper is the specific event of Hapoel Beer Sheva F.C. game in May 1998, where the result would decide whether the team survives in the senior division or be demoted to the second one. The club lost in the nineteenth minute. A heavy silence descended upon the terraces. The players collapsed on the pitch, covering their faces with their hands. Suddenly a crying voice: a young boy sat and sobbed – weeping for all of us.

Ex post facto

Qatar, November-December 2002: Mondial. Thirty-two national selections playing on the green in the presence of tens of thousands of audiences in the stadiums, and over billions of spectators all over the Globe. The stadium becomes an open colourful theatre: painted face people in the terraces cheer their favourite team by singing, dancing, and drumming. Losing teams travel back home, winning team move on to the one-eight stage, to the quarterfinal, then to the semi final, and to the final. Ninety minutes plus added time may end with glory or disappointment. Each next stage is accompanied by growing emotional behaviour. Each next stage reorganizes the division of the supporting camps: When France met Argentina in the Final (18 December 2022) the entire world was divided into two.

As before, the 2022 Mondial was wrapped with emotions by the players and the crowd: people’s quest for excitement gets various responses by the Mondial: they are happy, they are sad, and they cry because of both: they cry when their team win, they cry when their team lose. Ronaldo walks in the corridor shading tears. The Brazilian players cry after they lost to the Croatian selection. The Spanish players cry when they lost to the Moroccans. Scenes of crowd crying over the T.V screen. Mondial no. 22 reconfirmed that football is a game of open emotions: do cry for me Argentina.

Preface

Don’t let the sun catch you crying/the night’s the time for all your tears/your heart may be broken tonight/but tomorrow in the morning light/don’t let the sun catch you crying.¹

This cliché accompanied the game of football (soccer) since its rebirth as a modern game in the mid-nineteenth century: ‘football is a man’s game’.² And because men do not cry, especially in public, it is deduced that footballers do not cry, and neither do fans. And if they do cry, they are called derogatory nicknames like ‘pussies’, ‘fags’, ‘whiners’, and so forth to exclude and humiliate them. Or to repent and regain masculinity, because football is ‘a man’s game’ and weeping damages the game’s image.

Football is an aggressive game by nature. This, however, is a positive aggression that gives the game a masculine flavour and enables the drama invested in the game. Bodies tackle each other, legs straggle other legs, heads bump. Players fall and rise in pain but continue playing. They suffer injuries, the medick is called. They limp off the pitch and return to the game’s territory. After the game they moan in the dressing room with a bag of ice pressed to their limbs. Usually, they recover and take part in the weekly practice sessions. Whatever happens, football players do not cry. They are men engaged in a man’s game and they must preserve this image; otherwise, they betray their assumed masculinity.

Football is a game of emotions. Being a competitive game that is also charged with associations such as politics and culture intensifies the sentiments that are invested and ascribed to this game.³ Winning and losing are accompanied by emotions that are expressed as angry verbal and/or physical outbursts at the rival side, the referee, or others, such as the political authorities that are not present in the stadium. Basically, the football stadium is ‘a zone of permission’ that allows the fans to express their emotions in ways that are not accepted outside its walls: shouting, cursing, swearing, but not crying -because men do not cry.

This is no longer the case. The ban on crying has been removed. The scenery of the game has changed. Football players cry in public and not because of physical pain, but due to emotional distress. They cry tears of anguish and frustration when their club fails to win the national cup, when their club is demoted to a lower division, and they cry tears of joy and relief when their club wins the national cup, when it wins a critical game, etc. Their crying is accepted and appreciated by the fans as evidence that the players care about the club.

Fans also cry for the same reasons. They are permitted to weep; it does not diminish their masculinity. The roaming eye of the television camera is focused on crying players, coaches, club owners, and fans. The weeping is considered good and functional.

It is worth mentioning that football is a culturally dependent game. Aside from the rules of the game that are decided and controlled by FIFA, the behaviour on the pitch and in the terraces is influenced, sometimes determined, by the cultural-political milieu of the specific engulfing society. Thus, the concept and practice of masculinity is derived from the above milieu. Weeping during a football game was probably imported. It is subject to cultural changes regarding masculinity. The new, metrosexual, male is not ashamed of externalizing his emotions and shedding tears in public.

The article deals with weeping in football. It begins with short survey of the literature that pertains to manhood at present, to crying as a cultural issue, and to player and supporters crying in the football stadium. Unfortunately, very little has been researched and published on this subject. Nevertheless, the available academic literature as well as the media that recorded the behaviour of players and fans, indicates a cultural change regarding men’s public displays of emotion. It is no longer taboo. The remainder of the article tells the story of Hapoel Beer Sheva – an Israeli football club – when the club played the last game of the season whose outcome was critical: surviving or being demoted. Weeping during that game indicated to what degree football follows the cultural change of masculinity.

Macho man

Manhood (masculinity) is narrated by the relevant literature as a normative behaviour of adult males and boys that first distinguishes them from the normative behaviour of females. Normative male behaviour refers to mode and tone of speech, physical prowess, self-perception that denigrates the ‘second sex’, and to certain attributes that credit them with domination in society. Patriarchy, men possessing dominance over women, is implicitly assumed (probably, by men) as the best (and only) way of maintaining social order.⁴

Manhood and its derivative – the macho ideal, is specified by certain characteristics, some of which refer to nature (genetics), but especially to social construction. The relevant literature enumerates, among other things, the following male attributes: physical power, control, intellect, domination, ambition, competition, and leadership. David and Branon⁵ specify the functions that man must accomplish to be credited as a male: be anti-feminist, be a provider, be tough, be risk-taking. Ultimately, manhood characteristics are gender-dependent, they do not stand alone, but rather in contrast to or opposite female gender characteristics. In other words, men do not possess female characteristics. Indeed, his/her characteristics and their effects depend on the cultural and historical context,⁶ but, excluding certain societies, they skip class, ethnicity, religion, and national status affiliations. Though, manhood – specifically masculinity – is class related: lower class men are more sensitive to their gender image than middle class one man.⁷ Indeed, for many years, the distinction between men and women tended to be in favour of the former. Basically, the key sign of manhood was behaviours that were not interpreted as feminine.⁸ Thus, a priori, men do not cry.

The point of departure of this article is that manhood is a cultural project. The present issue is football – a game whose participation (mostly, in competitions) depends on specific physical attributes. Some physical aspects have given men an advantage on the pitch: they are stronger, faster, they kick and headbutt the ball harder, and they jump higher. Therefore, in a competitive-aggressive sport they have added value over women. However, gender stereotypes and men’s actual behaviour are derived from social-cultural structuring.⁹ The above descriptions of male (or female) behaviour are derived from the specific dominant culture of society. This specific culture determines fan’s behaviour in the stadium: the presence of manhood on the pitch and the terraces.

Several decades ago, probably in the so-called modern societies, something in the cultural instance was changed that eroded the traditional stereotype of masculinity.¹⁰ Some refer to this as ‘Masculinity in Crisis’.¹¹ It is argued that because of structural changes in modern society, for example, in the labour market, in the functional division within the family, and the feminist campaign, men’s awareness and behaviour underwent a transformation: men’s machismo is not yet dead, but it is possible to observe a significant narrowing of the gap between the genders. The ‘new man’ model that emerged mainly in the middle class, marginalized the ‘old man’ model.¹² Indeed, the gap between the genders has not yet been eliminated, but gender equality has become a major issue and practice.¹³ This reached football as well. The establishment of women’s football leagues, and the growing presence of women as fans in the stadium terraces, indicates that the time of football as male territory, is over. It is possible to argue that ever since its rebirth as a modern game in the nineteenth century, football was dependent on the engulfing surroundings: definitive changes in the latter infiltrated the stadium: The metrosexual image influenced the player and the fan.

Man does not get lost

If the cliché that a picture is worth a thousand words is indeed correct, then appropriate examples would be a picture of the pitch and the terraces when the ball touches the goal-net. Or when the club wins the championship or is saved from relegation at the last minute. Or, when God forbid, the club is relegated in the last game of the season. These pictures are testimony of the change that takes place among the players and the fans: they hug, they kiss (not on the lips!), they pat each other, and they cry. Men, young and old, openly shed tears.

When this game was born in the public schoolyards, it was a very aggressive game. Players kicked each other’s shins, they were pushed and fell on the hard soil, got up and continued to play while the crowd cheered. Football became an integrated item in the school curriculum that prepared students to serve ‘the empire on which the sun never sets’.¹⁴ Fair play aggression was welcomed by the school teachers. Football and masculinity were linked at a very early stage of this game, mainly when it became the game of the working class.¹⁵

In practice, sports and masculinity tend to merge. Michael Messner refers to the rational of this tendency:

Through a comparison of the lives of white, black and Chicano former athletes in the United States, I argue that given the psychological imperatives of a developing sense of masculine identity within a structured socioeconomic context, the choice to pursue, or not pursue, an athletic career is explicable as an individual’s rational assessment of the available means to construct a public masculine identity.¹⁶

Seemingly, masculinity and what is evident from it regarding man’s life becomes stronger in the sport stadium: ‘Generally, then, we may observe that football culture has always enabled the expression and appreciation of different forms of masculinity’.¹⁷ It appears that changes in men’s identity are influenced by the changes that occur in the surroundings. These impact the behaviour of the football players and the fans both in and outside the stadium. As Giulianotti notes:

Initially, the evidence all favors the conclusion that football’s ‘hegemonic masculinity’ is uniformly aggressive and humorlessly chauvinistic. […] Male public school created football’s rules of association while the game’s organizational hierarchies continue to be a bastion of male power […] football helped to reproduce the modern sexual division of labor and leisure. […] Football’s playing aesthetics preach a traditional masculinity: ‘it’s a man’s game after all’.¹⁸

Players and fans that were perceived as ‘non-male’ were called ‘pussies’, ‘homos’, ‘weaklings’, ‘whiners’, and so on, nicknames intended to exclude them from the male category.¹⁹ The effort to maintain masculinity as a sign of belonging to the dominant gender dictates the world perspectiveof males: misogyny and homophobia are key concepts that specify the ‘us’ against ‘them’.²⁰

When football became the game of the lower classes, mainly the working class, the terraces became a place where young boys acquired masculine and class values: obstinacy, competitiveness, femophobia, misogyny, homophobia. The bottom line is that masculinity is learned and perpetuated as a functional historical legacy²¹ and as hyper-conformity regarding male norms. The terraces trained the boy to become a male of his class. The norms accompanied and guided him outside the stadium: his interaction with society is formulated by these norms.²² Masculinity became an identifying bold mark of the terrace’s culture. As King argues:

Since about the 1960’s, European football fan culture has been dominated by groups of masculine fans who have colonized the ‘ends’ or ‘curves’ of the ground. In England, these groups have taken a distinctive form […] the practices of the English masculine fan groups have drawn upon and been imitated by other European groups.²³

Until recently, two elements of masculinity were present in the terraces: the use of physical force as a problem-solving mechanism²⁴ and an emotional taboo: players and fans do not cry under any circumstances. Love of football is part of a relatively wide system of masculinity. It is related to love of soul music, beer, physical encounters, women, and money.²⁵

But this is no longer the case. Men cry in the terraces. Players cry on the pitch. They shed tears for wins and losses. The melodrama during the 2014 FIFA World Cup was anticipated: the Brazilian players and fans cried bitterly after the national team was defeated by Germany, seven to one. The faces of the devastated fans were broadcasted on television all over the globe, indicated that something was changing in football culture: crying is acceptable, and in certain situations, even desirable.

The reason underlying for the exposure of soft emotions is in the general atmosphere of the society that then projects on the stadium culture. The image of the new male – the metrosexual -reaches football while it is going through a deep transformation: becoming commercial. It is still not possible to measure the impact of the above, but it is possible to speculate that emotional upheaval brings something to commercial football that is eager to attract increasingly more fans (that is, clients), which translates into more money for the specific club (tickets and merchandise). A less rigid masculine atmosphere in the stadium may attract more women and even the entire family. Probably, the new directors, that is, the wealthy owners, have a policy of ‘emotional economy’ and thus accommodate the game in the engulfing surroundings.²⁶ As said, almost ever since its format as a modern game, it has been in a dialogue with the engulfing society, and consequently, the main participants – player and fans – respond by adopting new values and norms.²⁷

On feelings of the loyal fan

When the match is over, the fan, who has not moved from the stands, celebrates his victory: ‘What a goal we scored!’ ‘What a beating we gave them!’ Or he cries over his defeat: ‘They swindled us again’. ‘Thief of a referee’. And then the sun goes down and so does the fan. Shadows fall over the emptying stadium. On the concrete terracing, a few fleeting bonfires burn, while the lights and voices fade. The stadium is left alone and the fan, too, returns to his solitude: to the I who had been we. The fan goes off, the crowd breaks up and melts away, and Sunday becomes as melancholy as Ash Wednesday after the death of Carnival.²⁸

In fact, football is a unique phenomenon in present day culture, not just for its loyal fans. David Goldblatt remarks:

Football is a complex phenomenon with a family resemblance to many other cultural forms but identical to none. In its capacity to gather significant numbers of people on highly regularized colander in highly ritualized fashion, on occasion, to create moments of community and collective, ecstasy. It has something of the church about it. Shorn of any religious diminution, it is closer to the theater […] football’s closer competitor is soap opera.²⁹

And ceteris paribus, as in the soap opera, crying is natural, it is anticipated during or after the game.

As said, football is a game of emotions: deep fandom, joy, anger, grief, anxiety, depression, vengeance, resurrection. Fans experience and exercise these emotions during their years of club fandom, season after season. Actually, this is the essence of football fandom: emotions pop up and sink, and re-start all over again.³⁰ The cliché that football fandom continues ‘from the cradle to the grave’, is not hollow. A football fan stays loyal to ‘his’ club: walking from his home to the game’s home is a sort of a pilgrimage on the weekend. And if the fan is unable to visit ‘his’ club for whatever reason (moving to another city, lengthy stay abroad, etc.), one day he will come back. Maybe with his son or daughter, he will take a seat in the veteran terrace and enveloped in nostalgia he ‘is back home’.³¹

Football casts a spell on its fans.³² Because the football stadium is ‘a zone of permission’, the spell works in real time. The stadium is a place where people free their emotions: they laugh, cheer, yell, curse, making rough gestures while expressing their support or contempt. This is also the place where males cry in public. The English male fan who is restrained from telling his wife ‘I love you’, has no problem saying it to his football club publicly, either in words or by singing it every weekend. He holds back when a family member passes away, but cries without restraint when his club fails in the cup final. A study that examined fan’s behaviour in 18 European countries, concluded that third of football fans cry during the game mainly because that they are happy’ sometimes because they are despairing.³³ Indeed, football is a game of emotions: at present fans do not restrain their feeling – they cry on each other’s shoulder.

In no time, intimate, special relationships are created between the game of football – through the club – and the specific fan crowd. Football is an aggressive game, however, in the good sense of this word and behaviour. This was and still is, a game of the people, more accurately, mainly people of the lower classes. Studies indicate that since people from these classes tend to ‘solve’ problems using aggressive – verbal and physical – behaviour,³⁴ the game offers them the possibility of being aggressive in a good or not so good sense – the stadium is a welcome zone of permission.

Nevertheless, in the football stadium at certain moments, they also exhibit soft behaviour such as crying. At present, when the football audience becomes more diverse: more middle-class people in the stadium, more women in the stadium, and even though males are still dominant, the atmosphere is blended. Aggressive behaviour is accompanied by soft behaviour such as weeping.³⁵

Football is a game of stakeholders that invest their feelings and identity in their club. Sirc notes,

As any passionate fan will tell you the purpose of being at a game is not simply to watch—it is to help the team win. The ‘real’ fan is not a mere spectator – he (or she) is the twelfth man on the pitch […] Fans see themselves as creating a positive atmosphere in which the games take place, and their presence and actions positively influence the morale and motivation of players on the field. And in turn the result.³⁶

Thus, when the fan feels sad because the club lost a game, he feels that something happened to himself because his deep feelings are invested in the club.

Some scholars argue that the closest thing to football is religion.³⁷ The believers of various religions release their deep emotions (a catharsis) while participating in a religious ritual. The place where they gather for their prayers, is (also) a ‘zone of permission’: They cheer, they sing enthusiastically, they shake their body, they shed tears. Others argue that present day football is a ‘business corporation’,³⁸ and everyone that participates in this game is actually a commodity that is traded on the market. Nevertheless, even after its commodification the fans’ relationship with the club remains as before. The deep feelings that the club belongs to the fans remain the backbone of fandom. Indeed, this is defiance: owners come and go, coaches come and go, players come and go, but the fans stay staunchly loyal. Their feelings rise up and sink low, but never dissipate. At the end of the game, they return home, and when asked how it was, they answer, ‘we won’.

Tears water the green grass

The research that deals with crying assumes that this common physiological phenomenon has personal and social functions. One of the study’s assumptions is that crying is a response to various emotions such as pain, loss, surprise, joy, and happiness.³⁹ The theory that questions the origin of crying and its meaning begins with personal response to pain and moves to crying as a sign of social functions: that the specific individual needs support, and thus crying is used to attract others’ attention and sympathy.⁴⁰ Likewise, crying is a non-verbal situation aimed at eliciting altruistic behaviour from others. Crying is meant to tell others that ‘I am one of you’.⁴¹

Thus, crying is a social event. People who cry because of the death of a beloved family member express, among other things, their identification and association with people close to them. Crying, culture and politics mingle deliberately. On television, millions of North Koreans weep for the death of their leader, demonstrating their loyalty (and subservience) to the new leader. In an apparently similar context, but a different cultural-political situation, people who shed tears when the national anthem is playing display a ‘social act’. The television camera focuses on them for good reason. The bottom line is that tears have a useful-exchange value⁴²: the functions of crying fluctuate from the personal level now I feel better, I am balanced (homoeostasis), to a social level, a substitute for a social hug. Regarding the national level, crying conveys identification, belonging, and loyalty. Individuals cry because of something that makes them a collective ‘we’: This something is important for specifying their belonging to their existing or aspired reference group.⁴³

Football fans cry in public. May be several decades ago when the game was young, they hid their tears. During the modern history of the game, they let go of the restraints – they cry when their club fails or when a disaster happens, such as the airplane crash involving the Manchester United players and staff in 1958.⁴⁴ They weep on the day commemorating the tragedy in Hillsborough in 1989, in a semi-final game between Liverpool F.C. and Nottingham Forest F.C., when 94 fans died and 766 were wounded. Since football has a multifaceted impact on the fan⁴⁵ emotions could not be denied: crying is both the symptom and the medicine.

As stated, for a long-time football player did not cry in public. A player who cried was considered a ‘pussy’, ‘Gay’, and so forth. In the dressing room the coach signalled to them that crying was not acceptable. ‘Be men’ was a commandment of football legend. This must be rooted in the individual player’s DNA. This is a recipe of winning, or at least, of fighting. The football atmosphere changed: the new type of man – the metrosexual – arrived on the football scene and was welcomed.

A pioneer of his time was Paul John Gascoigne, A player on the England National Football Team who was nicknamed Gaza. In the semi-final game that took place in the FIFA World Cup in Italy (June-July 1990), when the English lost by penalties to the German National Team and were removed from the tournament, Gaza – who already had two yellow cards that prevented him any way from playing in the next game – wept publicly. Six years later, also in the competition between the above two national teams, the referee showed Gaza the red card, and he burst in tears. The English crowd loved it. Gazamania became a popular term that signalled ‘I care about my country’. The BBC crowned Gaza ‘Person of the Year’. Robbie Robinson, the English national team coach, said that what happened to Gaza in that game was a tragedy for him, for the national team, and for the country. Since then, English football changed its approach to the behaviour of players and fans: crying does not devaluate maleness. On the contrary, it is evidence of caring and loyalty to the club or to the nation. It is an indication that the people stand by the National Selection.⁴⁶

Now, players cry in public. It has become an almost integral – anticipated event in the final ceremony of a football game in which the result is critical to one of the participant’s teams. Gianluigi Buffon, the goalkeeper of the Italian national team, cried when his team lost to the Swedish national team and consequently could not take part in the upcoming FIFA World Cup.⁴⁷ It is possible to suggest that many of the Italian national team fans cried as well. This was a real disaster for the Italian national team, which had participated in almost every previous World Cup, winning four of them: in 1934, 1938, 1982, and 2006. Indeed, for the Italians (players and fans), this was a catastrophe. Decades ago, in 1950 World Cup that took place in Brazil, the local national team played Uruguay’s national team. All forecasts predicted that Brazil would be the winner, but in the end Uruguay won. The entire Brazilian nation was devastated: their tears ‘raised the Amazon levels’.

Fifty-four years later, in 2014, in the World Cup that also took part in Brazil, history repeated itself. In 1950 it was a tragedy, in 2014 it was a farce. The German national team beat the Brazilian team 7:1. The Brazilian players and their coach burst out crying. Their weeping was to beg the Brazilian nation for forgiveness. Brazil is known as football country, there was probably not a dry eye in the country.

Men do not cry. It is a dishonour to lose control of our feelings. This is considered typical female behaviour that conveys weakness and hysteria. Men must remain strong and in control. This is the male ethos. Men play football in the best leagues in the world. They earn obscene amounts of money. They are admired by millions of men and women. Nevertheless, they no longer care about the old male ethos: They let go of their emotions and their admirers welcome them with applause. The top male role models turned metrosexual: Zinedine Zidane burst out crying when his club Real Madrid won the league championship in July 2020. Cristiano Ronaldo cried when he received the Ballon d’Or trophy. Jose Mourinho cried when his club won the European Champions League. David Beckham has cried in public several times.⁴⁸ It is permitted to externalize feelings in present-day commercial football. It appears more humane: crying adds a halo to the stars on the pitch.

Also in Israel, the model of the ‘new man’ replaced the old one. Tough combat soldiers shed tears when they bury a brother in arms. Civil society and the army (which expected emotional restraint from the soldiers for many years) tend to accept the new male model as a fact of life. As anticipated, this infiltrated the Israeli football stadium. Hezi Cherazi, a player in Bnai Yehuda F.C., scored two goals in the final game of 1999/2000 season that was critical to the club, and burst out crying while facing the sky. Hezi was not an exception. Other players cry when their club wins the league cup, or when their club loses a critical game and gets demoted.If combat soldiers cry, let along football players.

Crying became functional in Israeli football. Players accumulate credit that indicates their loyalty to the club and the fans – at least during their contract with the former. This is mentioned in their C.V. and a potential buyer may appreciate their loyalty as an asset. Crying is functional for the fans as well – it confirms their claim that the club belongs to them, and what happens to it is of utmost importance to them. They care, they are loyal ‘rain or shine’. They are here now and in the future.

Closing time

Almost every football fan has experienced the ‘horrible time’ before a critical game that determines whether a team survives or is demoted. The game on Saturday will determine the fate of his club. For a long time, the club is placed under the ‘red-line’ when at the end of the season it leads to the lower division. Now it is the critical moment of no return: We must win this game of the season. The night before the game is interrupted by nightmares and the morning is not much better, with a variety of physical manifestations of nerves, like stomach cramps, headache, sweaty palms. Even those who don’t believe that an old man with a long beard runs the world, mumbled a few prayers, maybe this time it’ll help … ? The pre-game preparations are in order: the right shirt, the shoes (first the left then the right), the set of keys with the club’s logo in the left pocket. The club’s scarf wrapped around the neck. On the way to the stadium the anxious fan talks to himself. Together with his stadium friends he takes his seat. He sits, he stands, again and again throughout the game. His throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper. We need one goal to survive. This is the 85th minute, no goals. The referee looks at his watch. Where will my salvation come from?

The final minutes of the game are critical. The rival team on the pitch does not give up even though this game means nothing for them. Our players are aware of the gravity of the situation and try very hard, kicking the ball but no goal. One minute goes by, then another, then the extra time elapses. The game ends. ‘Silence, and I will not hear’.⁴⁹ One could hear the Earth moving. The fans stand on their feet. What next? Are we allowed to cry?

Methodological note

By the conventional mode of research study, this study refers to the ethnographic mode: A study that explains and interprets a specific social event, however, leans on a theoretical model that offers an extensive explanation that relates the specific event to other similar yet not identical social events. The issue is a narrative that focuses on a detail of that studied event. The present paper tells the story of a real event that took place in a specific football game that could happen anytime and anywhere. While the names of the clubs are different, the basic concepts of the narrative remain solid.

The specific event that is portrayed here has some precedence. In years I was engaged in the study of Israeli football, I interviewed fans, players, and coaches, watched games in the stadium and on television, observed fans’ responses to critical events on the pitch such as winning a cup, a championship, and also losing a critical game and being demoting. Usually the fans’ response is dichotomized: failure brings grief, winning brings sheer joy. Sometimes, in both cases, the results are followed by crying. The present event of Hapoel Beersheba club was an authentic one, not even a unique one: when the critical game was over, the crying was due to grief.

The assumption that underlies the present paper is that behaviour in the stadium is influenced by the normative behaviour of the surrounding culture. Regarding the present issue – the transformations of the male role model’s arriving at the football arena and affecting the footballers and the fans.

There haven’t been many studies written about crying in football in general and almost nothing in Israeli academia. One leans on information in the media, mainly television that offers the issue as an act of voyeurism. The present paper refers to an Israeli football event that took place in May 1998 at a critical game of Hapoel Beersheba: a league game that determined the fate of the club – survival or demotion, no middle ground. The following is actually a personal report of real weeping that happened on the pitch and in the terraces during said game.

Crying in Vasermil

Beersheba is located in the southern part of Israel. Although it is not far from the Centre of the country (Tek Aviv), it is considered by the media as a city in the periphery. It main attractions are Ben Gurion University, The Local Symphony and Theatre, and the Football Club, Hapoel Beersheba. The area’s population includes Jews and Arabs (Bedouins). In class categories regarding Israel, it is possible to suggest that a major part of the Jewish population belong to the lower-class categories. It worth noting that considering the story of this paper, since the 1980s the city, was going though expansion by incoming people, industry and public services. As in other places in Israel, football was the most popular sport: every weekend in the football season the stadium welcomed the club’s fans.

In 1959, in a game Between Hapoel Beersheba and Hapoel Tel Aviv (Beersheba lost 0–6), the new local stadium was inaugurated. The stadium was made possible thanks to a donation by Mrs. Vasermil who wanted to commemorate her son who was murdered by the Nazis. Since then and until 2015, when a new stadium was inaugurated, Hapoel stadium was known as Vasermil. The stadium’s capacity was 13,000 fans divided into 9 terraces. The stadium was surrounded by a wall. The crowd bought tickets in a small box office that was carved in the South-West wall. Usually, the crowd covered 30% to 40% of the stadium’s seats. There were very few men’s rooms and no ladies’ room. The crowd was noisy: singing, shouting, and cursing. The crowd of the rival club that came to support its players sat in the North-Western lower terraces. The stadium was planned for athletics as well and because of the athletic tracks around the pitch, the distance between the green and the terraces forced the fans to stretch their necks or to stand in order to see what was happening on the other side. Some even used to bring binoculars. Nevertheless, Vasermil was a ‘shrine’ for the local fans.

Hapoel Beersheba has a loyal following for many years and remembers the ‘good old days’ when the club was promoted to the first division league, and won two league championships: 1974/5, and 1975/6. In 1995, while participating in EUFA’s cup games, Hapoel Beersheba hosted Barsa (Barcelona) in its stadium. The stadium was overflowing, the result of the game (seven to Barsa, none to the locals) did not depress the fans; they felt so proud to play against one of the best teams in the world on home territory.

As said, Hapoel Beersheba won two league championships in the mid-1970s. ‘Tears were shed in the terraces’ on the occasion.⁵⁰ At the time, the city of Beersheba and Hapoel F.C. were considered to be in the periphery and fans of rival clubs refrained from travelling to Vasermil to support their clubs. During the 1996/7 football season, Hapoel Beersheba won the national cup. Fans probably shed tears of pride.

In Vasermil, on a Saturday in May 1998, it was the last game of the season. For the fans of Hapoel club this was doomsday; to be or not to be.The game against Maccabi Haifa in the afternoon was critical: even a win was not enough to survive because at the same time Bnai Yehuda Tel Aviv played against Hapoel Rishon-Letzion. The position of the credit points of Bnai-Yehuda was better by one point over Hapoel Beersheba (28:27). If both clubs won their games, it meant demotion for Beersheba.

A stranger, no fan would not understand. For a fan, demotion of his club is a critical loss.⁵¹ Perhaps one could dream of resurrection next season, but the statistics of promotion after spending a season in the lower division is not promising.⁵² Usually, fans of a club that was demoted to a lower division anticipate some years of disappointments. Nevertheless, a true fan stays with his club for better or for worse, which may carry on for years.

The signs of the impending loss were already visible in the second half of the season, when the club failed to win games, and the red line was stretched above the club’s position in the league ranking. The process resembled that of a terminally ill patient – every relevant parameter indicated progress to the bitter end. Gradually, the fans became aware of the situation of a Chronicle of a Death Foretold.⁵³ Football fans do not need medical information, nor that of commentators that add ‘but’ after every sentence. However, in football even the most rational fan believes in miracles. The ball is round, things have happened in the past, and maybe we all admit that God exists. As the football coach Yogi Bra said, ‘It’s not over until the fat lady sings’. Despite every sign of the impending tragedy, it is still worth anticipating a miracle.

A crowd filled Vasermil’s terraces long before the beginning of the game. One could read the fans’ feelings on their faces. The tension was palpable. The optimists kept babbling words of prayer to remove the Jinks. The pessimists remained silent. The rival team, Maccabi Haifa, was rated fourth in the division ranking and this game was not going to change anything for them. The optimists believed that it was possible to win the game and as a bonus, Bnai Yehuda would lose. The pessimists felt that if Hapoel won their joy would double but they braced themselves for Hapoel’s loss. The fans’ heartbeats could be heard all over as a collective thrum.

Ninety minutes, that’s all. Ninety minutes in a game of survival pass dramatically. One feels every passing second: when his team is in the lead, it feels as if time until the 90^th minute is creeping by very slowly. When his team is down by one goal, it feels as if time is running out quickly. ‘Everything at stake has not yet happened, has not even started yet’.⁵⁴ From the moment the referee whistles, the anxious fans stand and cheer while praying that the other team gives up. Hapoel defence holds back, but the forwards could not score a goal. Yossi Benayoun, a talented seventeen-year-old boy who would play for big European clubs (like Liverpool) a few years later, is playing for Hapoel. Is he going to save the day?

Time is running out and every minute is rife with tension. It’s the 85^th minute and no goals. Not good for Hapoel, but the news from Bnai Yehuda’s stadium is that their game is also goalless. There is still hope. An image of Sergio Leone’s movie pops up: The rope is wrapped around the neck of the convict. The crowd is ready to watch the show. In the background, Ennio Morricone music. Lee Van Cleef and Eli Wallach smile, the hangman covers the head of the victim with a black sack. Crescendo. From nowhere comes Clint Eastwood. He shots and cuts the hanging rope. Happy End.

Over time. The 92nd minute, a penalty kick for Hapoel. Just eleven metres. It takes 0.3 of a second for the ball to reach the goal. Benayoun kicks the ball, the goalkeeper jumps and deflects the ball. Benayoun controls the rebound and scores. The eruption in the terraces takes a few seconds and news comes in that Bnai Yehuda scored a goal. Benayoun, his hand up, runs to the terraces, stops, stands in front of the silent crowd and then realization dawns. Benayoun cries.

No one heard the referee’s final blast of the whistle. Birds did not chirp. The fans stood silent with tears in their eyes while Hapoel players sprawled on the green like a platoon of paratroopers who returned defeated from battle. This is the end. There is no appeal court. The crowd remained standing for a long time facing the pitch. Suddenly, an anguished cry was heard from the southern terraces: a young boy sat holding his head, crying out loud. People looked at him, but no one went to comfort him. A young boy that will grow up to watch many future games cries for everybody.

Epilogue

The relevant literature posits a connection between culture, the power of emotions, and crying. The typical male that was invented and preserved by the local culture was embodied on the football pitch: A football player is a ‘real male’. When something with emotional implications occurs on the football grounds, the zone of permission offers a few options: physical and/or rhetorical aggression provide players and fans with catharsis. Because of the changing cultural atmosphere and strong affiliation with what is happening in Israeli society, the behaviour of football players and fans has gone through some obvious transformations. At a certain moment that is not recorded in the history of Israeli football, fans and players are allowed to exhibit their emotions through crying. It is possible to assume that changes to the male image throughout Israeli society, including an expression of stereotypical ‘female’ behaviour reached the football stadium. It is indeed evidence that in an emotionally charged moment, crying become a legitimate aspect of football.

After four seasons in division two, in 2002, Hapoel Beersheba returned to the premiership division. In the second decade of the twenty-first century, Hapoel won three consecutive championships. Crying returned. When the team captain held up the League Shield in front of thousands of enthusiastic fans, the young boy’s tears returned; however, these were tears of joy.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Notes

1. Don’t let the sun catch you crying, Music Album by Gerry and the Peacemakers (Fred Marsden, Gerry Marsden, les Chadwick, Patrick Maguire), Universal Music Publishing Group, 1964.

2. Messner, Taking the Field; Goldblatt, The Game of Our Lives; Elias and Dunning, Quest for Excitement.

3. Goldblatt, The Game of Our Lives; Mason, Passion of the People?; Elias and Dunning, Quest for Excitement.

4. Broad and Kaufman, Theorizing Masculinity; Horrocks, Masculinity in Crisis; Bourdieu, Masculine Domination; Connell, Gender and Power, The Person, and Politics and Masculinities; Gilmore, Manhood in making.

5. David and Branon, The Forty-Nine Percent Majority.

6. Connell, Masculinities, 2nd edn.

7. Dunning, ‘Sport as Male Perspective’; Robinson, Marked Men.

8. Thompson and Pleck, ‘The Structure of Male Norms’; Connell, Masculinities.

9. Todd, Masculinity in Theory; Messner, Taking the Field; Connell, Masculinities, 2nd edn.

10. Silverman, Male Subjectivity and Margins.

11. Horrocks, Masculinity in Crisis.

12. Silverman, Male Subjectivity and Margins; Franklin, The Changing Definition of Masculinity; Segal (1990), Gilmore, Manhood in Making.

13. Robinson, Marked Men; Horrocks, Masculinity in Crisis; Beynon, ‘Masculinity and the Notion of Crisis’.

14. Winner, Those Feet; Mangan, Manliness and Morality.

15. Hughson, ‘The Boys are Back in Town’.

16. Messner, ‘Masculinities and Athletic Careers’, 7.

17. Giulianotti, Football, 156.

18. Ibid., 155.

19. Guttmann, The Erotic in Sport; Dunning, Murphy and Williams, The Roots of Football Hooliganism.

20. Segal, Slow Motion.

21. McKay, Managing Gender.

22. Gilmore, Manhood in Making; King, ‘The lads, Masculinity and the New Consumption’; Hughson, ‘The Boys are Back in Town’.

23. King, The European Ritual, 200.

24. Clarke, ‘Football and the Working-Class Fans’; Dunning, ‘Sociological Reflection on Sport, Violence, and Civilization’.

25. Hornby, Fever Pitch.

26. Pixley, McCarthy and Wilson, ‘The Economy and Emotions’.

27. Gilmore, Manhood in Making; Segal, Slow Motion; Almog, Peridah mi-Śeruliḳ.

28. Galeano, Football in Sun and Shadow, 6.

29. Goldblatt, The Game of Our Lives, xvii.

30. SIRC, Football Passions.

31. Giulianotti, Football, Ben Porat, Oh, Such A Delightful War!; Baram, Red, Yellow, Black.

32. Doon, Saturday Night Fever Pitch, The Magic, and Madness of Football.

33. SIRC, Football Passions.

34. Messner, Taking the Field; Elias and Dunning, Quest for Excitement.

35. SIRC, Football Passions.

36. Ibid., 20.

37. Novak, The Joy of Sports; Guttmann, From Ritual to Record.

38. Conn, The Beautiful Game?; Ben Porat, Passion, Game and Exchange Value.

39. Lutz, Crying; Walter, ‘“Why Do we Cry”’.

40. Vingerhoets, Niels and Velden, ‘The Social Impact of Emotional Tears’.

41. Kay, Seeing through Tears.

42. Carmichael, The Ceremony of Innocence.

43. Fox, The Kleenex for Men Crying Game Report.

44. Ward and Williams, Football Nation.

45. Stone, ‘The Role of Football in Everyday Life’.

46. Hobsbawm, Nations and Nationalism since 1870.

47. Also, well known players such as Pele, Gascoigne, Seaman, Terry, Balotelli, Ronaldo, Beckham, Suarez and Gerrad shed tears on the pitch.

48. Cashmore, Beckham.

49. The Holy Bible, Job, D. verse vii.

50. Adar, Hapoel Be’er Sheva.

51. Banyard and Shevin, ‘Responses of Football Fans to Relegation of their Team from the English Premier League PTS?’.

52. Anderson and Sally, The Numbers Game.

53. Novella by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (1981). His another work Love in the Time of Cholera (1985) is also relevant in this context.

54. Coates, Between the World and Me.