I just read an interesting article by Robert Lynch about why football is boring, and want to share a few reflections.

Towards the end of the article, Lynch writes:

“Soccer’s rules were written down in England in 1863, before any of the good sports existed. By the time someone built a game where you could use your hands, where scoring was common and luck was rare, soccer already had a half-century head start and most of the world’s children. It isn’t popular because it’s the best. It’s popular because it got there first.”

This is not quite factual, because before 1863, football was indistinguishable from rugby. It was chaotic; players could use their hands and run with the ball. In 1863, a split took place between the FA and the rugby union, which was when the FA introduced the “no hands allowed” rule.

This article is based on the assumption that the better, more skilled team should always be victorious. Otherwise, it’s just left to chance and Lady Luck. This, according to the article, is a bad thing.

Here’s the thing: take a look at the World Cup tournament and check who has won the competition since the 1950s, and you’ll find out that the best teams made it to the final and won, with the occasional underdog in the top positions. Similarly for local leagues. Occasionally, the better teams do tie, and even lose, but over the span of 38 games, the best teams more often than not end up in the first six positions.

So the article is conflating one instance of the game with the aggregate of many games played over the course of an entire season, and the more challenging knockout competitions (like Champions League).

This is what makes the game even more interesting. It’s not all about statistics. It’s about a variety of factors, including team spirit, individual and collective skills, tactics and strategy, the continuous effort to generate new space and create chances on goal, and to put on a spectacle for the respective fans.

What makes football especially beautiful, and never selfsame, is precisely the mix of boredom, reflected in the “clichés” of the play, like passing the ball back and forth in search of space, and the generation of the completely new through moments of brilliance that result from the rupture of space within the tension created by the offside rule.

Other games lack precisely that: the pressure-cooker tension that forces the players within preset borders. This is why it feels more like foreplay, or like a story without a beginning, middle, or end. But when these instances of brilliance erupt, oh, this is more like a multi-orgasmic, sublime experience for those who are attracted to this beautiful game. Football is more erotic than purely sexual; it contains a mix of foreplay, erotica, BDSM, and the occasional dominatrix experience where you go back home without being allowed to have a happy ending.

The right balance of boredom, action, beautiful plays, and goals gives football a different flavor. Not only have the tactics changed over time, but each coach and team has their own philosophy, playing style, and footballing culture. Some are more defensive, some are more offensive, some lean more into data-driven strategies, while others prioritize beautiful play, and that’s also what makes it more interesting. It’s unpredictable.

If you’re into prediction markets and betting, tough luck, you may never get it right.

If you feel like you want to focus more on statistics, and highly controlled environments, then you’re better off watching basketball or American football.

But if you’re into a game that is boring, enjoyable, and ecstatic all at once, then football is where it’s at.

What’s more interesting than all that is how something that is clearly based on personal taste is turned into a universal judgment of why football is “objectively” boring. Kant would’ve approached this in a similar way, but because of what has been laid out above, he’d arrive at the completely opposite conclusion by saying that football is beautiful because of these beautiful and sublime moments.