The Guardian’s Marina Hyde wrote an incisive article framing the slightly absurd aftermath of the Patrice Evra-Luis Suarez incident. If you happened to miss the storm, Evra accused Suarez of racially abusing him at least ten times during last weekend’s Liverpool-Manchester United match. Hyde’s basic point was a simple one: when it comes to the he said-she said, don’t jump to conclusions. But there is one conclusion that is safe to draw from this saga: when two people take diametrically opposing views on whether an incident of this nature happened, not once, but ten times, someone is engaging in high-level, pre-meditated fabrication.
Now, no question, Evra’s allegation is a serious one, but it isn’t the only serious issue raised by the incident. The reaction by the players’ respective clubs should at least raise an eyebrow, if not both.
Manchester United manager Alex Ferguson took the more measured approach. Rather than adamantly stating publicly that his player was victimized, he simply said of the allegation, “We spoke to Patrice today and he’s adamant that he wants to follow it on.” He continued, “Obviously Patrice feels very aggrieved at what was said to him and it rests in the hands of the FA now.”
Contrast Ferguson’s comments with those made by a Liverpool spokesman in the aftermath. “Luis is adamant that he has not used language of that nature and the club is totally supportive of the player.” Liverpool went further to suggest that Evra should be banned if his allegations prove groundless. That’s quite an aggressive public statement of support.
Notice both clubs reference how both of their players are “adamant.” However, under the circumstances, it’s clear that one is simply adamantly lying, which raises a question: Should a club publicly take sides in these types of incidents purely based on a player being adamant? I think not. Why? Because it sends a very troubling signal.
In a case where a player is accused of racially abusing another player ten times, the signal sent when a club publicly stands up based on a player being adamant is that a club’s first priority isn’t the truth, rather, it is, first and foremost, to protect the word of its prized asset. What makes this situation particularly troubling is that one player is lying, a reality that should elicit a measured reaction, not a lawyerly proclamation that leaves an aftertaste of innocence.
A club taking a public position is understandable when the situation involves determining the intent of a player’s seemingly malicious tackle. As we well know by now, intent is often a very difficult thing to prove. In the absence of the ability to be in a player’s head, standing up for a player based on known character can be understandable. But this is different. Evidence of intent is often speculative. Evidence of racial abuse, ten times, in front players, cameras and millions of fans is much less so. That’s what makes Liverpool’s public comments so curious. To take it a step further, such a stance by a club suggests something a bit more sinister underlying its public representations (and no, not just with Liverpool).
Too often we conflate the posturing that takes place in a legal defense with a club’s posturing after an incident, a reflex that understood properly raises questions about the responsibility clubs claim they have in the community. It’s an important distinction that is often overlooked in our real world arguments.
A defense attorney’s job is to make the other side prove its case, to meet the required burden of proof. A defense attorney’s job is not to determine truth. When a club publicly acts like a defense attorney, they are implicitly saying that they are not interested in truth, but in protecting their asset by any means necessary. This is a difficult position to reconcile with a club that also consistently positions and presents itself as a righteous, moral pillar of the community, and a supporter of kicking things out, things like racism, sexism, homophobia, or anything else kickable.
If clubs want to act like lawyers in public, they can have little expectation for the rest of us to trust their word, which is a pretty dangerous precedent (one which may already be set). It means that their words are intended for advocacy on behalf of their client-assets, and we should always view their positions with asset-colored glasses, regardless of the topic. If we can’t trust them to, at a minimum, refrain from prematurely standing with a liar (and again, we know someone is lying), why should we trust their communications when it comes to finances, governance, harsh tackles or anything else?
Ultimately, Hyde’s salient point that conclusions shouldn’t be drawn before evidence is heard shouldn’t just apply to spectators; it should also apply to clubs. You can’t kick out racism on one hand, and impede the process from determining whether a racist incident occurred on the other. In Liverpool’s case, that doesn’t mean that Suarez is guilty. It simply means that it might have served them well to be a bit more measured with their public comments until the facts are flushed out.