Inclusive Masculinities in Contemporary Football

Men in the Beautiful Game

Rory Magrath

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2016
• Print ISBN:
  9781138653610
• eBook ISBN:
  9781317226741
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Gender Studies
• Index: Social Sciences

Football has traditionally been an institution hostile toward sexual minorities. Boys and men in the sport have deployed high levels of homophobia for multiple reasons. However, the ground-breaking research within this book shows that intolerant attitudes toward gay men are increasingly being challenged. Based on unprecedented access to Premier League academies, Inclusive Masculinities in Contemporary Football: Men in the Beautiful Game explores these changing attitudes toward homophobia in football today.

Revealing a range of masculine identities never before empirically measured at this level of football, this book discusses the implications for the complex and enclosed structures of professional sport, and extends our understanding of contemporary masculinity. It also offers fresh insights to the importance of "banter" in the development of relationships and identities. This culture of banter often plays a paradoxical role, both facilitating and disrupting friendships formed between male footballers.

As the first title in the Routledge Critical Studies of Men and Masculinities Series, this book is fascinating reading for all students and scholars interested in football and the study of gender, sexuality and the sociology of sport.

Part I

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Chapter 1
Researching homophobia in football

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In England, like many other countries, football is the most popular and culturally important sport (Goldblatt, 2014). It affects the lives of millions of adults and young people who watch and play the game on a regular basis. In playgrounds up and down the country, children of all ages idolize and mimic the star players they see on television, copying their every move and practicing every latest piece of skill they witness. Yet despite football promoting itself as a meritocracy—like many sports do—these young boys and girls are highly unlikely to matriculate to professional status (Anderson, 2010), and professional football remains near-totally a male, and indeed, masculine endeavor.

But for a highly select group of young male footballers—for there is no professional academy in the country dedicated to the development of girls’ football—recruitment into the youth sector of elite football awaits. Receiving the telephone call with this invitation is, as popular discourse would have it, “every boy’s dream” (Green, 2009). Being touted as the next Cristiano Ronaldo or Lionel Messi also commands global media interest and the opportunity to earn extremely large sums of money—most of the world’s most celebrated footballers earn in excess of £200,000 per week. In February 2016, it was revealed that the average salary for a Premier League player was £1.7 million a year, compared to £324,250 for the Championship, £69,500 for League One and £40,350 in League Two.

As football clubs develop these mini Rooneys, Ronaldos or Messis, they also seek reciprocal success; these players are expected to perform at their peak to ensure their club wins the most trophies and leagues. This is not limited to success at just club level; particular emphasis is placed on England’s most elite football clubs to develop the next “Golden Generation” of professional footballers—the next “Class of 1966”—tasked with propelling England to glory by winning the FIFA¹ World Cup, joining the elite of just 11 English men to have previously done so. Yet, given the increased internationalization of professional football, for the average English child, the task is significantly harder than it was for those making the team in 1966.

To combat this problem, the Football Association (FA)—English football’s governing body—published the “Charter for Quality” document in 1997, the development strategy to effectively professionalize youth football in England (Weedon, 2012). This included the development of “world class facilities, staff and training programmes to talented footballers between eight and 18 years” (Weedon, 2012, p. 200). In addition to the scouting of local footballing talent, this also extended scouting programs to allow the recruitment of more players from other nations. Some Premier League clubs’ current scouting program, for example, covers Europe, Asia and Africa. Accordingly, Premier League club academies host a relatively high number of foreign players. Elliott and Weedon (2010) show this figure to be approximately one in six; most of which hail from other European countries, though players are recruited from almost every other continent in the world, too.

Academy players’ involvement with their clubs is age-dependent: those aged between eight and 15 years attend training on numerous occasions throughout the week, but still attend school and normally live with their families. However, for those deemed talented enough to have progressed in an academy after reaching their 16th birthday, life is different. Following completion of their compulsory education in mainstream schools, these players are ushered into an academy environment full-time. Here, they must complete compulsory education programs, normally in the form of a BTEC qualification under the supervision of an Education Officer with qualified teacher status, alongside their routine football development.

This is a process supported by the Premier League—the organization behind the top division of English football—who, in 2012, initiated the Elite Player Performance Plan (EPPP). Although the primary aim of this strategy was to create a training environment to nurture young talent through to the professional game, the academic attainment of these players is important, too. However, older evidence shows that coaches see little value in these qualifications: Monk and Russell (2000) showed that one coach even signed players’ work logs before any work had been completed. More recently, Brown and Potrac (2009) showed that even the players attached little significance to their studies, and treated their qualifications as a “chance to muck about” (p. 150), as they were convinced that they would all earn a professional contract.

When players reach the age of 18, academy coaches collectively decide which of these players “haven’t made the grade” (Brown & Potrac, 2009), and which (if any) are offered a contract in professional football; thus allowing the player potential to compete for the club’s First Team. This is the moment in each apprentice’s life that their hours of practice every day since eight years old determines whether their future dreams are realized. It is a moment of huge expectation and, all too frequently, crushing disappointment.

Players frequently suffer what Brown and Potrac (2009, p. 155) describe as “emotional disturbances” because, from a young age, these young men’s lives revolve around football (see also Mitchell et al., 2014). Accordingly, McGillivray, Fearn and McIntosh (2005) investigate why professional footballers pursue employment in an institution with “little more than 10 years secure than 10 years secure tenure and no occupational pension” (p. 103), showing that these young men find it near-impossible to disentangle their lives into alternative employment—particularly as they lack the educational capital to do so. Jones and Denison (2016, p. 2) appropriately comment, “Football is a difficult and risky landscape.”

This is because only a small number of these boys will matriculate to this level of play. James (2010), for example, showed that of the 700 or so academy scholars, between 60 percent and 65 percent are rejected aged 18. As if this statistic was not damning enough, of the third of players who are “lucky” enough to be offered a contract, only one in six will still be playing professional football aged 21. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Gearing (1997) estimated that the average length of a professional footballer’s career is just eight and a half years. According to Roderick (2012), between 600 and 700 players of all ages are released from professional football every season, most of whom are required to find alternative employment beyond the industry. Moreover, recent statistics show that, in the 2014–15 Premier League season, only 13 percent of registered players were contracted to their current club between the ages of 15 and 21 (Football Observatory, 2015)—the age when many players are registered at an academy.

In this context, it is important to recognize that the contemporary football academy is a recently created social institution—one which Stratton et al. (2004, p. 200) call “an evolving professional domain.” It nurtures the hopes and talents of the very best young footballers in the UK. Yet they are part of a global, corporate system worth many billions of pounds, where profits and financial success are paramount—and whose objectives will not always align with the young men in these academies. Even so, these academies may play host to the next generation of footballing stars, those who might propel their club (or even their country) to sporting success.

Academies therefore create a unique social setting for all these young footballers; one which bonds them together through shared norms, and the common goal of achieving professional status. This has created what Weedon (2012) calls an “insular host culture” (p. 207), and what Anderson (2005a) describes as a “near-total institution” (p. 66).

The football academy: a near-total institution

Erving Goffman (1961) introduced the term “total institution” in order to understand the power that institutions can have on people’s identities and lives. These institutions are isolated, enclosed social systems which control all aspects of a person’s life. Goffman used prisons as an example: “Prisons serve as a clear example, providing we appreciate that what is prison-like about prisons is found in institutions whose members have broken no laws” (1961, p. 11).

Anderson (2005a) applied this concept to sport, outlining that it holds almost as much power, although is clearly distinguishable because athletes have the agency to quit sport should they desire. As such, he called it a “near-total institution” as athletic success is prioritized over all other factors and friendships; exercise, diet and all aspects of social life are controlled and scrutinized within this environment. Indoctrination into the near-total institution can, and often does, begin at a young age. Some players are scouted and recruited by professional football clubs as young as eight years old. In some cases, financially lucrative clubs purchase young talented players from poorer professional football clubs. In May 2015, for example, Arsenal paid £10,000 to sign an 11-year-old player from Luton Town, beating competition from other top English clubs, including Manchester City and Chelsea. These examples are not restricted to domestic cases: in December 2013, Manchester City agreed a deal worth £2.4 million to sign a 14-year-old Spanish player from Málaga CF.

The desire for footballing success also comes at a price. As Anderson (2005a) wrote: “… the myth of homogeneity of thought and action required to produce desirable athletic results is so strong that athletes willingly subject themselves to severe restrictions in their social lives” (p. 66). In football, players—particularly those at a young age—are expected to forfeit socializing with friends in order to pursue their careers (Brown & Potrac, 2009).

Accordingly, in professional football, players spend large amounts of time with each other: training, studying together (in the case of academy footballers), socializing together and living together. Accordingly, Manley, Palmer and Roderick (2012, p. 313) wrote that “academies are ‘closed’ environments and contain a very specific population.” In his ethnographic account of English academy football, Parker (1996) also recognized the likeness between an academy and the total institution. He described the academy’s “elements of closure,” albeit noting that, “professional football may be considered low on ‘totality’ in comparison to, say, mental hospitals” (p. 43). Drastic comparisons between these two institutions can still be made, however.

Even academy buildings themselves reflect the very nature of a total institution, often having high perimeter fences or walls, offering protection against intrusion. The players’ “private” space, the “digs,” were also restricted to players only—meaning they could not have family, friends or sexual partners back. Parker (1996) wrote:

Privacy from public gaze was of utmost importance here. An electronically operated door-lock guaranteed security against alien entry to the main hostel building. Friends and acquaintances who managed to legitimately transcend this barrier were restricted to communal dining areas only.

(p. 171)

These restrictions also extended to the bedroom area, thus allowing boys within this closed environment to maintain not just emotional boundaries, but physical boundaries, too.

While the academy structure is interpreted as a necessary sacrifice for the sake of achieving the dream of professional footballer status, Parker (1996) explained how players frequently felt homesick, accompanied with strong bouts of loneliness. This also stemmed from the lack of freedom to “meet outsiders,” thus repeatedly spending time with teammates. Perhaps most significantly, players were bound by what Parker (1996) calls “organizational routine” and were under strict surveillance. This was best evidenced through the operation of player curfews—normally requiring them to have returned by 8.00 p.m. and midnight on Saturdays—even players aged 18 and over.

Such closed environments enable athletes to develop a shared sense of identity. Keen to protect future stars from outside influence, academy staff are extremely protective of their players. Yet despite these young men in football academies existing on the periphery of stardom, virtually no sociological research exists emanating from this level of play.

Researching academy football

The protected and insular nature of football academies mean that access has been exceptionally difficult (Roderick, 2006a), particularly at elite level. Research on academy football has predominantly been restricted to subjects which will benefit the clubs as much as the researcher(s), such as sport-science-based projects that have the potential to enhance player performance. Given that sociological research rarely offers value to professional football clubs in terms of footballing success, it is perhaps unsurprising that this type of research is limited (see Brown & Potrac, 2009; Cushion & Jones, 2006; Davies, 1996; Parker, 1996; Roderick, 2006a; Roderick, Waddington & Parker, 2000 for notable exceptions).

The nature of the research examined in this book meant that finding professional football clubs to collect data for this research was difficult. Indeed, Magee and Sugden (2002, p. 423) describe professional football as an “impregnable world.” The unwillingness of football clubs to participate in research related to sexuality perhaps exists due to the perception of sexuality as a sensitive issue (Lee, 1993). This historical stigma attached to homosexuality has traditionally created problems locating people willing to discuss the topic (Gamson, 2000). Because of this, Weston (1998, p. 190) documented how her mentors claimed she was committing “academic suicide” for deciding to study gays and lesbians. Indeed, Irvine (2014) convincingly argued that sexuality research can be considered a form of “dirty work” given the stigma attached to it.

This is especially true when one considers that Premier League academies are often managed by gatekeepers—normally older, retired professional footballers—who played the game in a toxic environment of homophobia (Pronger, 1990). As such, professional football clubs become near-total impenetrable environments, as clubs attempt to distance themselves from anything which could be deemed controversial.

Locating professional football clubs to undertake this research was, therefore, a challenging process. For this research, a number of academy managers were contacted with an enquiry to request access for research to be undertaken, with the vast majority failing to respond to emails. In personal correspondence with the Head of Education and Welfare at one academy, he refused access to the club’s academy players on the basis that he “felt slightly uneasy about the proposed research project,” despite assurances of complete anonymity and confidentiality.

Issues of anonymity and confidentiality were also prioritized by the clubs who did grant access for me to interview their players. For example, each club stressed the “powerful” and “potentially sensitive” nature of the research area, understandably seeking to protect their players from any untoward exposure which could damage both the club and player’s reputation. The unease may be associated with the increasing recognition of homophobia as a problem, even as it has been improving in football (Cashmore & Cleland, 2012) and society (Clements & Field, 2014; Weeks, 2007). The competitive nature of football and its mass corporatization means that the costs are that much greater to football clubs, and risks are more closely considered, with fear of negative media attention exacerbated.

Contextualizing homophobia in football

Homophobia has traditionally received limited attention in academic research on football, with most critical scholars focusing on issues of hooliganism and racism. Instead, football has merely been culturally-perceived as homophobic: Cashmore and Cleland (2011, p. 421), for example, write that football is “not known as a paradigm of liberalism.” Journalist Owen Jones (2014) takes a similar view, claiming that “football remains one of the greatest fortresses of homophobia.” Presumably, the vilification of Justin Fashanu—who came out in 1990—is the reason behind this assumed homophobia, as well as the lack of openly gay footballers in England’s top leagues alongside homophobic chants that were directed at players “suspected” of being gay.

However, a lack of openly gay footballers at England’s top level does not mean that homophobia continues to persist: football culture is more complex than this. There are several reasons why gay players choose not to come out of the closet. These relate to personal choice and considerations of privacy; agent and/or club advice; contractual complications—some players are obliged to p...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Table of Contents
• Foreword
• Acknowledgments
• Part I
• Part II
• Part III
• Appendix: participant list
• References
• Index