“But the law is not a breast that fills itself with milk. Nor are the lacteal veins of the law supplied with milk from a source outside the society. Nothing can enter the public treasury for the benefit of one citizen or one class unless other citizens and other classes have been forced to send it in. — Frederic Bastiat, The Law
Centuries before William James coined the phrase, men have sought a "moral equivalent of war," some human endeavor to satisfy the jingoistic lust of man, without the carnage of war.
For some, the modern Olympic Games have served the purpose, with the Cold War rivalry for medals between the United States and the Soviet Union, and, lately, between America and China.
But the Olympic Games, most of which involve individual athletes competing against each other, have never aroused the passions of soccer, where teams serve as surrogates for the tribe or nation.
Perhaps the most intense rivalry today is between Real Madrid and F.C. Barcelona, teams representing Spain's largest cities, with the former a stand-in for nationalism and centralism and "Barca" a surrogate for Catalan separatism. During the Civil War, when Catalonia was a bastion of loyalist resistance, the head of F.C. Barcelona was executed by troops loyal to Gen. Franco.
Early this month, Etgar Keret of The New York Times attended a match between Beitar Jerusalem, which is associated with right-wing Israeli politics, and Bnei Sakhnin, the only Arab-Jewish team in Israel's first division.
Keret volunteered to a loud, visibly anxious Arab he met, "It's only a game," and got this blistering reply: "For you, maybe, because you're a Jew. But for us, soccer is the only place we're equal in this stinking country."
Throughout the game, Israeli and Arab fans shouted ethnic slurs and curses in the other's language to be sure they were understood. As Keret writes, "The bad blood between the two teams has caused many of their matches to end in rock-throwing brawls."
"Soccer is often more deeply felt than religion," says Franklin Foer, author of "How Soccer Explains the World." "I don't see tribalism ever really disappearing. People are almost hardwired to identify as groups. And group identity always runs the risk of being chauvinistic."
This brings us to Saturday’s match in the fabled Rose Bowl, with 93,000 in attendance, between the United States and Mexico.
According to Bill Plaschke of the Los Angeles Times when the U.S. team took the field it was "smothered in boos. Its goalkeeper was bathed in a chanted obscenity. Even its national anthem was filled with the blowing of air horns and bouncing of beach balls."
How did U.S. coach Bob Bradley respond to the reception his team received in America's largest county? "Obviously the support that Mexico has on a
"A home game" for Mexico — in Pasadena?
"It's part of something we had to deal with," said the coach.
"I have never heard more consistent loud cheering for one team here," wrote Plaschke, "from the air horns to the 'Ole' chant with each Mexico pass, all set to the soundtrack of low throbbing that began in the parking lot six hours before the game and continued long into the night."
After the 4-2 win by Mexico, for the first time, the trophy award ceremony was held in the Rose Bowl. When the losing U.S. team was introduced, the stadium rocked again with boos.
"We're not booing the country. We're booing the team," one rooter for Mexico told Plaschke. "There's a big difference."
But why would scores of thousands boo a defeated team after a game?
Why would spectators raise a ruckus during a national anthem, except to manifest contempt for the country whose anthem it was?
U.S. goalkeeper Tim Howard credited several Mexican players with the win, but he was disgusted at how the officials conducted the ceremony awarding the Gold Cup title to Mexico.
They "should be ashamed of themselves," said Howard. "It was a disgrace that the entire post-match ceremony was in Spanish. You can bet your (expletive) that if we were in Mexico City, it wouldn't be all in English."
Indeed, were U.S. fans in a Mexican town to boo, jeer and chant obscenities at a Mexican team before, during and after a match, and blow horns during the Mexican national anthem, they would be lucky to get out of the stadium alive.
What does this event, in which Plaschke estimates 80,000 fans in the Rose Bowl could not control their contempt for the U.S. team and for the U.S. national anthem, tell us?
We have within our country 12-20 million illegal aliens, with Mexico the primary source, and millions of others who may be U.S. citizens but are not truly Americans. As one fan told Plaschke, "I was born in Mexico, and that is where my heart will always be." Plaschke writes:
“Most of these hostile visitors didn't live in another country. Most, in fact, were not visitors at all, many of them being U.S. residents whose lives are here but whose sporting souls remain elsewhere.
Welcome to another unveiling of that social portrait known as a U.S.-Mexico soccer match, streaked as always in deep colors of red, white, blue, green ... and gray.
"I love this country, it has given me everything that I have, and I'm proud to be part of it," said Victor Sanchez, a 37-year-old Monrovia resident wearing a Mexico jersey. "But yet, I didn't have a choice to come here, I was born in Mexico, and that is where my heart will always be."
On a street outside the Rose Bowl before the Gold Cup final, Sanchez was hanging out near a motor home that was hosting 17 folks -- 15 of whom were Mexico fans. Inside, that ratio held, there seemingly being about 80,000 Mexico fans among the announced crowd of 93,420.
This was Staples Center filled with Boston Celtics fans. This was Chavez Ravine filled with Giants jerseys. This was as weird as it was wild and, for a U.S. team that lost, 4-2, it had to be wearisome.”
Perhaps he should go back there, and let someone take his place who wants to become an American.
By 2050, according to Census figures, thanks to illegals crossing over and legalized mass immigration, the number of Hispanics in the U.S.A. will rise from today's 50 million to 135 million.
Say goodbye to Los Angeles. Say goodbye to California.