The Greatest

What ever became of originality, of thinking for yourself, or standing out from the crowd? My hypothesis focuses squarely on the advent and rapacious rise of social media, and this leads us into our second conundrum. Why the rush to coronate Kings and Queens of sport?

Within the ever absorbing and addictive world of social media, we are forever in comparison with not only our peers but also with the superstars of sport, music and the silver screen. This worldwide invasion has brought to our shores certain trends and phrases from across the pond, one such Americanism being the constant obsession to identify the GOAT, or greatest of all time. Most of these debates pit just two athletes from any given sport against one another in a mind-numbing bickering contest to decide who takes the crown. Without doubt the most frequently discussed of these is ‘Ronaldo vs Messi’, as though our beautiful game was only founded as recently as 2005. These two behemoths of the modern game have collected astounding hauls of silverware (domestic, international and personal) and notched up eye watering goalscoring tallies but their respective styles could not be more different, with Messi bewildering dumbfounded defences before finishing in style, and the streamlined, super athlete Ronaldo jumping impossibly high to score goals of the greatest importance.

Their dominance has coincided with an era where football has never been easier to access, whether that is via smart-phone, laptop or TV, all of which come replete with high definition slow motion replays and an audience that is only too eager to consume every last drop. Each generation does of course have its heroes but I can’t help but think that the majority born after the millennium as well as casual observers of the game have been swept along in a wave of media driven cultism. Devoted supporters on both sides of the argument churn out the most obscure stats in order to add weight to their mundane opinions. Is this really what we have become as sporting enthusiasts? A flock of brainwashed groupies obsessed with numbers.

Clearly those at the summit of any sport will amass impressive stats, whether that be Jack Nicklaus having won eighteen major championships or Rafael Nadal’s twenty-two Grand Slams, but these figures often fail to paint the full magnificent picture. Speaking of painting, would we judge Rembrandt, Vermeer or Van Gogh on the volume of their work, or on their masterful brushstrokes? Sport is so much more than data, it’s a comedy, a tragedy, a unique spectacle. It arouses feelings within us that are unlike anything else and memories that last a lifetime. The greats who become masters of their sport are able to imprint masterpieces within our minds as vivid and dashing as a Picasso. Zidane’s mesmeric volley at Hampden, Tiger’s stupefying pitch from off the edge of sixteen at Augusta and O’Sullivans blink and you’ll miss it 147 are a just few that immediately spring to mind. Of the three names mentioned above, I’ve certainly no qualms about putting them in the genius category, however greatness often comes with certain other character flaws.

You’d be forgiven for thinking that Zidane’s head-butt, Tiger’s struggles in his personal life and Ronnie’s maverick behaviour would turn the masses against them, however in many cases these misdemeanours have served to endear them more to an adoring public. Their erratic and sometimes rebellious behaviour ( not unlike that of the eccentric Catalonian Dali or the hell-raising Milanese Caravaggio ) helps us ordinary folk identify with them, and draw parallels to the trials and tribulations within our own lives. These fleeting glimpses of emotion played out in front of engrossed crowds have quite often heightened the mystique around certain individuals, even enhancing their legendary reputation. When I look back through the history of certain sports these maverick geniuses are the ones that pique my interest the most, and it’s perhaps due to the amalgamation of the two chief interests in my life ( sport/history ) that I find it difficult to resonate with my generations fascination with anything current.

As previously mentioned it seems we have a collective amnesia when it comes down to anything pre HD TV, almost as though because the coverage is better then so must be the product, however Brazil’s yellow never dazzled more than in 1970. Smug millennials have the delusional idea that today’s heroes would have made things look even easier ‘back in the day’, whilst augmenting their surety with the assertion that the stars of ‘yesteryear’ would struggle to make the grade in today’s game. It’s impossible to certify any of these convictions and we will simply never know.

Could Ronaldo have reached athletic perfection in a time before the major advances in sports science? Could Messi have dribbled on sub standard pitches whilst avoiding reckless challenges from the opposition? Could Maradona have excelled in today’s game with his outlandish off the field antics under intense media scrutiny? Who are we to decide? The greats of every era have overcome adversity in many different guises, and so their hypothetical triumph in a different age is certainly not inconceivable. Each generation has been graced with trailblazers and icons, all of them uniquely different in their own idiosyncratic ways. I like to enjoy them for what that they are, extraordinary entertainers, and whilst many eulogise them based upon numerical values, I prefer to judge them upon the beauty of the art they have blessed us with, and, most importantly, their compassion and humility as human beings.

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