You know society is morally bankrupt when its role models are sports stars. Confusing sporting prowess with moral wisdom, our society feeds off the notion that somehow young, overpaid, self-centered, immature, and highly talented players are role models-examples to be imitated. Ronaldo and Messi are not icons of imitation, they are merely soccer players but the silent collusion between the media, self serving players and infantile fans perpetuates the delusion that society should look up to them.
Soccer players entertain crowds. They play at the highest level, they perform athletic feats, and they even induce heart-stopping moments. It’s exactly why soccer is known as the ‘world game’, and we certainly need sports in our society. The game’s power to captivate people from around the world and transcend barriers is undeniable. The 2023 World Cup alone attracted 1.5 billion global viewers. For many, it is known as the ‘beautiful game’, but there’s an ugly side to the beautiful game. Moments of sporting glory achieved on the pitch have somehow morphed into something beyond the confines of pitches and stadiums.
Soccer players are not beacons of moral example to imitate. It’s one thing for kids to be taken by this, but it’s another for grown men to seek autographs from soccer players.

You’d think that signed memorabilia from Cristiano Ronaldo was the Shroud of Turin, it’s not.
Ronaldo is percieved as the second coming of Christ. With almost one billion social media followers, there is no doubt that his footballing achievements have been exceptional but the extra hysteria around the Portuguese player has morphed into a cult of personality.
Fans get caught up in the madness of fandom, and when a well-known player is seen in public, men, women, and children proceed to mob them, all to get a slice of the idealised, larger-than-life player.
Fans purchase sports jerseys for inordinate amounts of money and wait hours to have autographs signed. This would all be fine if not for the undercurrents that drive deeper impulses. Under the surface, some erroneously believe that soccer players are ‘role models’. Recently, Youtuber ‘Big Steve’ discussed whether English football player Kyle Walker should deserve his team’s captaincy after revelations emerged about the player’s sexual proclivities. ‘Big Steve’ argued,’ He has come out and admitted it. He has done an interview, but, when you’re a captain, you have to be a role model on and off the pitch.’
Did I miss something? Since when were soccer players role models, and since when did people think their behaviour was worthy of replication? Kyle Walker is certainly no role model, nor is any footballer for that matter. While I am not a particularly avid soccer fan, the trappings of this cultural paradox are problematic even to those who aren’t in its purview. Somewhere along the line, we confused athletic status with moral wisdom and messianic power.
Kyle Walker may be no saint, but he’s certainly no messiah either.
Walker is not insisting that he is, members of the media like ‘Big Steve’ are. It’s hard to shift the cultural narrative away from this myth when the media is complicit in players in pursuit of attaining ‘role model like status’.

The Manchester United and England international, Marcus Rashford has attracted much attention for his on-field success and failures. He’s also attracted attention for his off-field charity work. Most recently he’s been in the spotlight for the wrong reasons, after his drunken antics came to light. Like Walker, Rashford has been built up by the media to be a larger than life figure and the public have brought this narrative wholesale. In a survey conducted in Greater Manchester, Marcus Rashford topped a list of role models for young people. He topped the list with the likes of Martin Luther King Jr. Let’s think about that poll result for a second. If, like me, you feel something is off about that, you’re not wrong. Rashford is a young footballer, King fought for civil rights and faced several assassination attempts before eventually losing his life in the civil rights struggle in the 1960’s. Rashford is an overpaid, overpraised, overly obsessed over and immature young player. But in the eyes of some, he is held in the same esteem as the likes of Martin Luther King Jr. If that isn’t absurdly misguided, then what is?
Apparently the vortex of the role model obsession has gripped Rashford too, and it’s a narrative he doesn’t shy away from. He once remarked: “Success is not measured by the trophies you win, but by the impact you have on others.”
He’s wrong, and so is every other part of the media that thinks otherwise. The only success that matters is success on the pitch, scoring goals, and winning matches.
But how can we blame players when the media buttresses these delusions?
The Super start communicator wrote of Rashford:
“Role model: He is a credible role model for many people. As an England and Manchester United footballer, he already has a high profile.”
Those who elect players to elevated moral status should be brought back down to earth. Recently, Marcus Rashford was spotted partying in Belfast and missed training due to illness’ While other reports state,’ he was drinking until midnight and then passed out at 3 a.m.’ If the claim is, according to some sections of the media, that he is a role model, then how do they explain his recent drunken antics controversy in Belfast?
The Manager, Eric Ten Haag responded, “First of all, the players at this level have to manage themselves. That is what you can demand from the player…A player has to know what is good and what is not good. When you want to play top football, it demands a certain way of life. Always.”
Isn’t the glaring irony obvious? Players pit themselves as role models, and the media jumps on the bandwagon, but if that’s the case, how are we to explain drunkard absence from training and failure to show up to work?

Does Superman get drunk and pass out intoxicated only sometimes?
Players like Rashford and Kyle Walker fail to live up to the title of role models, because they are not role models. We need to stop insisting that young men whose job it is to train, kick a ball, score goals, and begin charities are tantamount to being role models. They are not, they are paid to play football, and the facade shatters when these things occur.

I would suggest that those in the public and the media who fall victim to soccer players being ‘role models need to do some serious soul searching. In a world where doctors without borders exists, microsurgeons perform life-or-death surgery, and firefighters risk their lives running into burning buildings, our culture has reduced itself to the idol worship of immature, self-serving, self-indulgent young men who are good at football.
Such sentiments are preposterous nonsense, and I would argue that if the impulse arises to seek out role models in soccer players, then something has gone amiss in the family unit.
Grown men have also become dedicated full-time ‘fanboys’ of their soccer idols. There is something childishly infantile about seeing grown men with painted faces in team colours go to support a sports team with unbridled joy. Parents name their children after their favourite soccer players, and many search for a messianic saviour to idolise in the world of soccer.
Hero worship may be a normal part of human nature, and humanity has agreed on a pantheon of figures to worship—Christ, Buddha, Allah, or the Gods of Hinduism. Football players aren’t and never should be part of this pantheon.