On Diving

By: Martha | November 8th, 2006

Grosso Call me crazy, but I think the issue of diving is much more complicated than the well-muscled American who shouted about pansies while watching the World Cup allow it to be. (As an aside, my indignation over all the name-calling quieted considerably once I watched some MLS matches. From what I saw, there are VERY few fouls in that league, so it’s sorta understandable that people who watch only MLS — assuming such people exist — would shriek about all the whistles during the World Cup. Anyway.) On one hand, there are the people who feel a breeze and fall down screaming, clutching their heads. This bothers me and, I daresay, is bad for the game. But there are also people like, say, Francesco Totti who size up situations so quickly and accurately that they know exactly how to put themselves in position to draw a whistle, whether they’re fouled or not. Call it gamesmanship, call it inspiration — I don’t think it’s diving. And maybe I watch too much Serie A, but it really doesn’t bother me. To me, that was the case with the foul on Grosso in the Australia game. In that situation, that play is a foul, period. And the situation was created by Grosso, intentionally — to me, that’s good soccer, no matter who does it. It’s not diving, it’s not cheating, it’s just knowing the game, and using that knowledge to your advantage.

In the wake of the World Cup, odd as it sounds, I found myself trying to explain to people unfamiliar with Serie A how integral to the flow of those games fouls actually are. I didn’t even notice it, though, until the whistles I expected didn’t happen during Cup games — for example, late in the US game, Pirlo went down right on the far side of the American box. He wasn’t fouled, really, but it was a situation in which, in Italy, he’d be awarded a free kick 85-90% of the time. And while I was glad it didn’t happen in that game (Can you IMAGINE the whining over here if he’d won the free kick, and then scored?), I realized that I find the predictability of whistles in the Italian game somehow very comforting. When I sit down to watch a Serie A game, I know exactly what to expect — in certain situations, everyone knows people will always go down, whether they’re fouled or not. And the whistle blows, a free kick is awarded, life goes on. It’s great, somehow — the familiarity, the sense of understanding, and the feeling of being part of a big secret world that other just don’t understand.

(And now is the time, if you don’t mind, when you lie and tell me I’m not the only person who sees the game this way. I’ll wait. Thank you.)