The Sephardi Perspective: The beautiful game

I was invited to my first Israeli basketball game earlier in the week and I was curious to witness a live game and its accompanying atmosphere. Having been brought up in England, football (I refuse to use the word 'soccer' which is anyway a shortened version of Association Football) is the only sport that matters, however, I am always curious to experience any quintessentially Israeli events.

In England and most of the world, 'Football is life'. As one English manager famously put it: "some people think football is a matter of life and death. I assure you, it's much more serious than that."

In Israel, basketball is known as the Ashkenazi sport and football is known as the game of the Sephardim. For most of the early decades of the state of Israel, basketball was the quintessential sabra sport and it literally put Israel "on the map" in 1977 when Maccabi Tel Aviv won the European Cup for the first time.

Although Israel qualified for the football World Cup, their first and only time reaching a major international tournament, qualifying for a tournament could not compete with actually winning and placing amongst the favorites on an annual basis. The Israeli 'elites' were attracted to the success of basketball which mimicked the 'new Jew' who could compete amongst the nations of the world.

So during the early years of the state the football terraces were left mainly to Sephardim and those outside of the 'elites'. Many of the football teams were based in the poorer towns and neighborhoods and many of the players had grown up in the same streets and alleys as those that now paid to watch them play.

Football has always been the great equalizer for the poorest communities around the world. When I trekked across parts of the African bush, whenever I would approach a village I would see boys and girls running after a pile of cloths wrapped up as a make-shift ball. The fact that the game can be played anywhere is the beauty of the game and the attraction for the working-classes.

The likes of Eli Ohana, Haim Revivo and currently Yossi Benayoun have become heroes to their fans, but each grew up in poor Sephardi neighborhoods of Jerusalem, Ashdod and Dimona respectively. Players like Eyal Berkovic, because of their background, never attained the same status amongst the fans even though he matched their achievements.

Even today, perusing the names of the players in the teams of the Israeli Premier league shows that Sephardim vastly outnumber the Ashkenazi Israelis. In basketball it is almost the complete opposite.

Another answer to the different ethnic make-up between the two sports may be the passion that is expressed surrounding the sport.

My experience at the basketball game was pleasant but it seemed to lack the edge that most football matches have. Although there were the typical drums being pounded and the fans chanting non-stop, there lacked that gladiatorial, intense and sometimes intimidating atmosphere that is like a drug for many.

Football fans like almost no other have allegiances that sometimes outrank national or ethnic ties. In many places in Europe, your ties to your team are so extreme that you would sometimes literally die for your team. One's highs and lows are connected to the performance of your team and you genuinely feel a part of something.

There have been reams of books and papers written on this subject because it because it appears to defy logic to those who have never experienced it. Joao Coelho, a Portuguese sociologist, notes that "it is fascinating, even though sometimes frightening, how a football team gains vast and complex social signification and symbolism which overtake the simple outcome of a sporting competition."

Another sociologist HK Hognestad on the other hand, suggests that passionate football support parallels famed anthropologist Geertz's notion of deep play in that "symbolic pride is tied to support and football is therefore frequently made into 'a matter of honour'."

This is perhaps the essence of the Sephardi attachment to football. For many whom felt discriminated against by the state and its apparatus, football was a good outlet for one's anger and passion. The chanting on the terraces at football involves an almost primal cry and tensions are let run amok against your opposing fans, hopefully only in a verbal manner.

Although Israeli football fans are some of the least violent of all the European leagues, the passion they display is amongst the highest.

A few seasons ago when their favorite player was about to be sold to another club, some Betar Jerusalem fans broke into a training session and temporarily abducted the player until the management agreed to stop the deal.

In 2003, when Avi Nimni was sold by Maccabi Tel Aviv to Betar, a number of Maccabi fans turned up to games the following season wearing only black and refused to cheer the team until he returned to Maccabi.

Over the years football has massively outranked basketball in overall popularity and the terraces will see people of every ethnic, social and even religious background. However, the atmosphere is still overwhelmingly Sephardi. The rhythmic darbouka, the Mizrahi songs and the constant chomping of garinim (sunflower seeds) coupled with the incredible passion makes it the stomping ground of Sephardim.

I enjoyed my night at the basketball, but I felt somewhat out of place. Apart from not completely understanding the rules and why I should get excited about a basket that will probably happen again in half a minute, I missed the meaning and passion of the football terraces.

Football is the game of the people, the passion and the flavor make the game attractive even to those who don't even follow the game. My wife, an Ashkenazi of American descent, used to come with me to football games but rarely even knew which way our team was kicking. However, she knew every song and would stand on her chair and scream at whoever she thought wasn't doing their job. The atmosphere just swept her up and she became an avid fan.

This is the beauty of football and this is what makes it a 'Sephardi' sport in Israel.