The Re-Branding of Sports

Soccer may have gained some popularity among Venezuelans after their country’s successful hosting of the Copa America this summer, but baseball remains king in that country. While the Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez is staking out strong anti-American policies, he is a professed lover of the yanquis’ game (his attempts at soccer consist primarily of passing the ball to his buddy Diego Maradona).

It is odd that Chavez, who often gives hour-long speeches railing against what he sees as American imperialism, is, like many Venezuelans, a huge baseball fan. Chavez sees American hegemony in multinational institutions like the World Bank (see his attempts to set up a regional bank doing similar work) and its media (and has created his own TV station to counteract its influence), but doesn’t mind playing the hegemon’s sport. Chavez would never be seen with a Big Mac in his hand, but he loves to pick up a bat.

How is it that baseball is not seen by Chavez and other Venezuelans as a negative influence of the American imperialists? Perhaps because, since the time it was brought to the country, the game has undergone a transformation so that it now has a uniquely Venezuelan flavor.

Baseball games in Venezuela are very different from what people think of as America’s pastime. Far from a laid-back afternoon of cracking peanut shells and singing “Take me out to the Ballgame,” games in Venezuela consist of “stadium disc jockeys blast[ing] popular merengue or reggaeton songs as fans and sparsely dressed cheerleaders turn commercial breaks into dance parties.” The play on the field is different, too. Tim Padgett of Time magazine wrote in 1999 that the Major Leagues have benefited from the “fast, joyful and audacious style of play that Latinos bring from the Caribbean [which] has helped give the game more zip than a corked bat.”

Cheerleaders at a Venezuelan baseball game

All of this brings to mind a similar shift that occurred in Argentina, though in a very different era and with a very different sport. The sport was originally played in that country by the wealthy expatriate Anglo elite. It retained this status for decades until it was taken up by Argentines themselves. Though it was played initially among upper-class Argentines, the sport eventually trickled down to the masses. And as it made this journey through the social classes, Argentine (or criollo) soccer took on a different flavor. As David Goldblatt writes in his book The Ball is Round,

… criollo football and masculinity came to be defined in opposition to the English and Englishness. The English were focused and disciplined, combining collective organization and physical force – the prerequisites of an industrial labour force turning out an industrial product. On the Rio de la Plata where industrialization had yet to completely stamp its imprint on the economy, landscape or rhythms of life, masculinity was more restless, impetuous and individualistic, spurning crude force in favor of virtuoso agility (204).

This criollo style of play came to define Argentine soccer and helped to boost the sport’s popularity in the South American country. This unique style spread throughout the classes and throughout the country and soccer quickly became the national game.

International tournaments like the World Cup would later give Argentina an opportunity to take on England. Recent years have seen some classic match-ups between the two teams. Each time they win, Argentines celebrate their victory with with incredible vigor, not just for the result itself, but also for the historical significance of getting one over on the country that once had visions of occupying them (and some would say still do, in the Falklands).

Argentine players jump for joy after beating England on penalty kicks at the 1998 World Cup

It was colonial powers who brought baseball to Venezuela and soccer to Argentina. It might have remained the sport of the expatriates (see the NFL’s attempts to break into China), but for a few initial locals who took up the games. After this initial breakthrough, the growth of the sports required them to be “rebranded” as something uniquely Venezuelan or Argentine (most definitely not American or British). This unofficial marketing campaign succeeded in “winning the hearts of minds” of these two people.

The Americans never have achieved the level of influence in Latin America the Monroe Doctrine envisioned and the Brits were long ago kicked out of Argentina. Lingering resentment remains in both Latin American countries towards their English-speaking counterparts. But the sports these two powers brought to Venezuela and Argentina live on stronger than ever because the locals gave them a uniquely Latin flavor and made them their own. Imposing political order on another country may have been nearly impossible for the Americans and the British, but convincing Venezuelans and Argentines to play their sports proved a far easier sell.

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 19th, 2007 at 10:35 pm and is filed under History, Latin America, Psychology. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.