How Soccer Explains the World
An Unlikely Theory of Globalization
By Franklin Foer
261 pp. HarperCollins $24.95 (soon to be published in paperback)


Soccer does not explain the world, but it does have profound connections with culture and politics all over the world. From the “beautiful game” of Brazil, to the back alleys of Belfast, soccer – like religion – has power and influence that can be mind-boggling.

Franklin Foer, who usually writes political news for the New Republic, is one of a growing number of American soccer fans. He first became a fan of FC Barcelona, a Spanish soccer club with a proud history of standing up to the Franco dictatorship in Spain. Foer then decided he wanted to know more about the interstices of soccer and society. He traveled the world and came back with all kinds of great soccer stories. Some are horrifying and sickening – such as the role of soccer in the sectarian violence in Serbia – and some are delightful – such as the one about the Iranian women demanding permission to enter a soccer stadium. Foer tells all the stories well. He tries – and I would say this might be the book’s only weakness – to tie the stories together by touching on globalization. Sometimes I thought he could have left out the globalization points and just called the book what it really is: nine fascinating chapters about the role and importance of soccer in nine different countries.

The first few chapters are the depressing ones. The reader becomes almost too well acquainted with the soccer fans in Serbia who served as shock troops for the war against that country’s Muslim minority. Then Foer takes us to Glasgow, Scotland, where we learn about how the rivalry between the Catholic soccer team, the Celtics, and the Glasgow Rangers both channels and foments sectarian violence, not only in Scotland but also in Ireland. The stories from other parts of the world are just as fascinating, and usually a little less depressing. The chapter on Brazil, which explains why Brazil has the best players in the world and almost the worst national soccer league in the world, was enlightening as it was disappointing.

The chapter on Italy, one of the most soccer-mad countries in the world, begins with the celebrity of Pierluigi Collina, the famous Italian referee who has an autoimmune disease that has left him completely bald. Foer’s gift for telling description here is notable. “(Collina’s) haunted house looks include a Kojak pate, tubercular gauntness, and Beetlejuice eyes springing forth from their sockets,” Foer writes. Despite claiming one of the best referees in the world as their own, major Italian championships are suspiciously judged by lower-level referees who might be more easily intimidated by the dominant clubs. Meanwhile, the owner of A.C. Milan, Silvio Berlusconi, rode the name recognition generated by his soccer club all the way to Italy’s prime ministers’ office. Repeatedly, Berlusconi uses soccer metaphors and his team’s success to win voters’ support. Foer fascinatingly exposes the role of soccer in Italy’s political and cultural life.

When he turns his pen to the role of soccer in American life, Foer notes the irony of soccer here: An American can go to support their team against, for example, Honduras in World Cup qualifying and find the stadium filled with Hondurans. Despite soccer’s huge popularity as a participatory sport in this country, soccer players have not en masse become fans of professional or national soccer teams. Why that is the case, and the role what appears to be a cohort of anti-soccer sports writers and editors in this country, may be a topic for another book.

Although I think the title and even the chapter titles overstate or slightly misstate the book’s contents, this is a volume that I will treasure and probably reread. I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to know more about the importance of soccer in world politics and culture.