Soccer, referred to as 'The Beautiful Game', is an ideological phenomenon. Fans lose themselves in its euphoric dimensions, which span every intellectual configuration from superstition to virtual bookmaking. Rivalry is fierce, both on and off the field. Soccer's canonical status as the most popular sport in the world is reaffirmed every four years on the occasion of the FIFA World Cup. Nationalism is staked at fever pitch during the month it takes to determine a winner. In 2010, the honour of hosting this event will pass to South Africa.
The question beckons: at what price? New stadiums, for example, will topple a figure of 9 billion South African rand. But the optimists are suspended in a state of faith. The industry of soccer is big. Media channels barrow under the burden of dispatching messages to every corner of the globe, covering the event in hyper-stereo. Fabric mills spin into delirium, security agencies bulk to a max, travel and accommodation swell to overflowing, and breweries and eateries tap reserves to within a drop of empty. (Or so it seems.) Any way you splice it, the World Cup brand is a relentless juggernaut. And its properties are dear and guarded. God help the counterfeiters; they will be there in droves plying the fruits of dissidence. But even at a reduced price, are they offering a viable alternative? The genuine article always fetches a higher value, proportional, I think, to the emotional investment of those who buy it. But how is one to regard its poorer, almost identical cousin, the quick-fix fake for passing partisans? As the opposite side of the same coin, I propose. It all comes down to a question of perception.
I have neither the space nor the expertise to deliberate on the relevance of a brand. The only analysis I can offer relates to an instance of self-reflection. Irrespective of how I feel about myself I am placed within the gaze of those around me. In the context of a soccer stadium I am either for or against. To be a part, I must dress the part. So then, who owns the paraphernalia, the colours, and the logo on the left breast? A country's identity is free (please excuse the assumptions of that cavernous statement and regard it within in the light of this narrow discussion). But a trademark is a protected species. To use it without permission and gain is an act of calculated piracy. To what end? The answer is, financial. So what are my alternatives? The flag is free, the colour is free. But for my vanity I must pay a trademark price. Either way, I am subject to my own hierarchy of value and perception.
Is there such a thing then as the people's brand? And if so, who owns it? The crux is simply this: what do we see in an ideal world? If everyone aspires to the original, where is the space for change? 2010 is a fictitious date set in the future. The emblematic markers of that time are currently being set. The alternatives cannot enter the fray. They must, I am convinced, emerge from a different place entirely. I haven't any propositions yet, only blind spots filling the horizon. Help. Is anyone out there listening?
tags: south africa media-events
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