After all, is football a game or a religion?

In the deep and rich soil of human culture, there are passions that stir the hearts of many, binding communities together with threads of emotion, devotion, and ritual. Among these passions, few rival the fervor with which people engage in the game of football—a game that, in some cultures, has evolved far beyond the realm of mere sport. Howard Cosell, the legendary broadcaster, captured this truth with his incisive words: “After all, is football a game or a religion?” In this question, Cosell poses a profound reflection on the nature of football, challenging us to consider how something as simple as a game can become a sacred ritual, a force that brings people together in ways that resemble the fervent devotion of religious faith.

Throughout history, religion has been the force that unites people, guiding them through the complexities of life, offering purpose and meaning. The ancient Greeks knew this well, as their Olympic Games were not merely a competition of athletic prowess, but a sacred gathering that honored the gods. It was a ritual, an expression of devotion to Zeus, and through it, the athletes and spectators alike participated in a moment of unity and transcendence. Much like the ancient games, modern football has evolved into something far greater than just a game—it has become a ritual of the modern world, bringing people from all walks of life together in an emotional celebration of their shared passion and identity. The roar of the crowd, the display of skill, the surge of adrenaline—it is a sacred experience for millions, and its influence often mirrors that of religion itself.

The devotion to football is so powerful that it rivals, in some ways, the devotion people feel toward their religious beliefs. Consider the example of the World Cup. When Brazil—the spiritual heart of football—competes, the entire nation is gripped in a trance of collective devotion. Brazilian fans, from the poorest slums to the wealthiest neighborhoods, unite under the banner of their national team, as if it were a divine cause. The rituals surrounding the World Cup, from the prayers for victory to the wild celebrations after a win, are imbued with the same intensity and fervor that one might find in any great religious observance. It is not just a game; it is a religion, a devotion that transcends reason and speaks to the deepest emotional currents of the soul.

Cosell’s query about whether football is a game or a religion forces us to reflect on the nature of ritual and faith. Both religion and sport have the ability to transcend the mundane, to lift individuals out of the ordinary and place them in moments of exaltation. In ancient Rome, gladiators fought not just for glory or victory, but for the crowd’s approval, their status rising or falling on the intensity of the public’s response. In the same way, modern footballers—such as Lionel Messi or Cristiano Ronaldo—are idolized by millions. Their every move, every pass, every goal is watched with reverence, as if their actions are sacred and worthy of worship. The intensity of this devotion, the ritual of watching a match, the outpouring of collective emotion—this is not unlike the ceremonies of ancient religions, where crowds gathered not just for entertainment, but for moments of shared transcendence.

However, football is not simply a ritual for the individual; it is a ritual for the collective. It speaks to our need for belonging, for community, and for a shared identity. This phenomenon is seen in the rivalries between clubs, where entire cities or nations are swept up in the conflict. The El Clásico between Real Madrid and Barcelona, for example, is more than just a football match—it is a battle for the soul of Spain itself. The emotional intensity of such matches, the highs and lows felt by the fans, speak to something deep within the human heart: the need to be part of something larger than oneself, something that gives life meaning and purpose. In this way, football takes on the qualities of religion, providing not just entertainment, but a spiritual connection to something greater.

The lesson to be learned from Cosell’s words is this: we must recognize the power of passion, of ritual, and of collective belief. Whether it is through religion or through sport, humans have a deep need to connect with one another and with something that gives meaning to our existence. The devotion to football, like the devotion to religion, is not just a distraction from life—it is a reflection of our desire for unity, for expression, and for something larger than ourselves. In our own lives, we should embrace that passion with awareness, recognizing that the things we hold dear—whether they be faith, art, or sport—have the power to bind us together in shared purpose and experience.

In following this understanding, we should not dismiss the passions of others, whether they are religious or sporting, but instead seek to understand the deeper meanings behind them. We are all seeking connection, seeking moments where we can transcend the ordinary and touch the divine. Whether through the faith we hold in our hearts or the team we cheer for, let us recognize the unifying force of our passions, and let them guide us toward greater unity, understanding, and connection. Football, as Cosell pointed out, is not just a game—it is a shared devotion, a moment of collective exaltation, and an expression of the human spirit in its most passionate form.