Fangs out, Luisito! FIFA, Violence, Luis Suárez, Colonialism, Biting, and Blood

Fangs out, Luisito!  FIFA, Violence, Luis Suárez, Colonialism, Biting, and Blood

Tyler Shipley

Could there be any greater crime that the one Luis Suárez has committed? I am referring, of course, to the fact that he unapologetically led Uruguay to defeating and eliminating both England and Italy from the World Cup. That he not only scored twice against England but did so with a mischievous grin on his face. That he not only knocked out two European football giants but, indeed, he enjoyed it, he relished it, he showed the Europeans none of the respect that they feel entitled to by virtue of being European.

He was, in that sense, refusing to be a good colonial subject, refusing to be thankful for being included in the tournament, grateful for the privilege to play, respectful of the rules and norms, humble in victory and gracious in defeat. Rather, he had the nerve to be brash, cocky, and even a little bitey in the face of his “betters.”

None of this, of course, would be spoken aloud by the European and North American (and especially English) press and pundits who have declared all-out war on Luis Suárez since the late stages of Uruguay’s match with Italy. None of it would be part of FIFA’s disciplinary sentencing. Instead, they have all hammered the drum of “sportsmanship” and “class” and claimed that Suárez’s behaviour has no place in the game. And of course the behaviour they are supposedly talking about is biting.

The Daily Mirror were taunting Luis Suárez about teeth and biting even before the incident with Chiellini.  This headline was from days earlier, after Suárez scored twice to knock England out of the World Cup.  Is Luis Suárez "obsessed" with biting or is the English press "obsessed" with Luis Suárez?

The Daily Mirror were taunting Luis Suárez about teeth and biting even before the incident with Chiellini. This headline was from days earlier, after Suárez scored twice to knock England out of the World Cup. Is Luis Suárez “obsessed” with biting or is the English press “obsessed” with Luis Suárez?

Yes, by now it is the vicious chomp heard round the world: the vampiric barbarian, gnashing his teeth and cannibalizing his opponent in a ruthless display that drags the beautiful game into some savage period of uncivilized pre-history. “He’s an animal!” they cry. “How can we explain this to our children?!” The English press has said that Suárez has mental health problems. That he has a deep-rooted “biting obsession.” That he is a child. That he should be kicked out of football for life.  FIFA has banned Suárez from all football activity for four months, concerned about the example his behaviour sets for “the eyes of millions of people on the stars on the pitch.”

And yet, colonial narratives notwithstanding, the video hardly lives up to its billing. No amount of camera technology can find a moment that shows anything more than an awkward head thrust and a nibble, at best, on the Italian defenders shoulder. If Suarez had hoped for a meal, what he got was a paltry hors d’oeuvre. How typically European.

Yes, Giorgio Chiellini put on a brilliant performance, his exposed shoulder sure to ignite the roars of indignant talking heads desperate for an excuse to attack Suárez. But it must be admitted that Chiellini was in no way injured, not even slightly. He stayed in the match, his lazy and underachieving defending unaffected by Suárez’s fangs, and indeed despite his dramatic performance he couldn’t even produce any blood for the carnival of moral outrage to draw upon. What kind of savage bite fails to break the skin?

Arguably, it doesn’t matter whether the bite was successful or not. Suárez has a “history” of biting. Indeed, he has twice flashed his incisors at opposing players and in both those cases they were much more effective in at the very least breaking some skin. And while no violent bite can be found in the tape of Suárez and Chiellini, it is clear that Luis intends some kind of contact, a headbutt or a bite, even if he didn’t accomplish it well. So yes, it is undeniable that when Suárez gets upset and wants to get an edge over an opponent, biting is in his repertoire.

Just as cleat-stomping is in Claudio Marchisio’s. He was red carded in the same match for driving the spikes of his boots into an Uruguayan leg. And yet, no tribunals and show trials and media assassinations against Marchisio. No calls for an end to his sponsorship and a ban from FIFA. No moral outrage, no pathologizing his infancy to find his “history” of using his spikes, no significant reaction at all. In fact, unless you saw the match, I bet you hadn’t heard about it. While I don’t want to have anyone’s teeth nip into my shoulder, I would certainly prefer that to having three metal spikes aggressively driven into my calf, especially if that calf was essential for my football career.

Claudio Marchisio's name has not been on the lips of pundits this week, despite having stomped his metal cleats into the calf of Egidio Arévalo in the same match as the Great Nibble.

Claudio Marchisio’s name has not been on the lips of pundits this week, despite having stomped his metal cleats into the calf of Egidio Arévalo in the same match as the Great Nibble.

Indeed, beyond the hysteria about Luisito’s dancing teeth, it is a fact that football is replete with violent challenges and injury-inducing clashes, many of which have left players significantly more affected than anything Suarez can do with his mouth. Chiellini himself threw several aggressive challenges during the match, not the least of which was his elbow to the face of Suárez. Portuguese defender Pepe headbutted Thomas Muller in their match last week, and that same Muller was once punched in the face by then-teammate and current media darling Arjen Robben. We could take it beyond the pitch and observe other forms of violence that aren’t eliciting four-month suspensions: European fans have been showing up at Ghana matches in blackface. A neo-Nazi ran onto the pitch during a match last week. Eclipsing all of this is the violence that has been perpetrated by FIFA and the Brazilian state against poor Brazilians, who have been ignored, attacked, evicted, and in some cases killed in order to facilitate the World Cup, as documented by Dave Zirin and many others.

So why is Suarez the man receiving draconian punishment and public shaming?

Maybe the explanation can partly be found in what he represents in football. Though he is by no means the first player to occupy this role, Luis Suárez is perhaps the standout example of a contemporary footballer who is undeniably one of the greatest strikers in the game, despite working class roots in the slums of Montevideo that made his rise to prominence anything but a sure thing. The odds were stacked so powerfully against him that the whole thing must still, at times, seem like a mistake or a miracle or both to Luis Suárez, the fourth of seven children from a broken home in one of the world’s many and massive urban slums.

In fact, his story is heartbreaking and inspiring in equal measure, and is well told here. For Luisito, like millions of children in the global south, football was his ticket to a better life. More than that, it was the only way he could be with his partner, Sofia, whose family had provided Luis with stability and support through his difficult youth. When Sofia’s family moved to Europe, Luis knew that the only way he could be near them would be to play his way into a European league.

He did just that, but it was not easy. At several moments along the way, when his chances seemed like they might slip away, his desperation was manifest in outbursts of relatively minor violence. A headbutt against a referee in Uruguay, a bite to an opponent in the Dutch league.  Understandable and minor, yes, but these are nevertheless not moments for Suárez to be proud of.

Indeed, making a saint of Luis Suárez is neither an easy nor appropriate task. His reputation was further marred by an incident in 2011 in which Suárez called Patrice Evra “negrito,” a term which in Spanish can be used as endearment. Suárez’s grandfather was black and was called “negrito” by his grandmother. But mestizo culture in Latin America contains a kind of ingrained and normalized racism that, in all likelihood, was the real motivation behind Suarez’s outburst. Suárez would not be the first mestizo player to express this brand of racism and it cannot be excused, though it should be distinguished as different from more hateful and violent forms of white supremacist racism.*

It is clear, then, that Luis Suárez is not an ideal role model. He, like so many of us, is a product of his society and, as such, he is flawed and troubled as are we all. Nevertheless, his life simultaneously reflects a beautiful story of love and redemption and possibility. The joy that often exudes from him on the pitch is palpable, the charm and charisma of his public persona in Uruguay is captivating, and the unabashed love he exhibits towards his family is impossible to deny or find fault. One look at his beaming smile can tell anyone with a modicum of sensitivity that his warmth and love are real. And so too is his darker side and the desperation and anxiety that compel it into being, albeit that desperation should be understood as a product of social dynamics, not individual psychosis.

There is something profoundly honest about Luis Suárez, for better and for worse, and ultimately for better. It is precisely his moments of weakness, violent yes but not radically so, that make him so compelling. Fundamentally, it’s not ok to bite another person. But then, fundamentally, it’s not ok to ask a child to grow up in desperation. Which is the greater crime? Should we judge all people by the same moral yardstick, or should we first ask who built the yardstick and why it is so flattering to its designers? Why are some forms of violence acceptable and others not? Does the context of Luis Suárez’s life change the way we understand his hunger for Italian defenders?

I believe it does. The football establishment, stodgy and conservative and colonial, does not like Luis Suárez. They don’t like his nerve, his unpredictability, his irreverence, or his protruding front teeth. They don’t like that he combines those qualities with almost impossible skill. They prefer Giorgio Chiellini, privileged boy from Livorno who graduated with honours, holds a business degree, and is embedded amongst the shadowy fascism that dogs Italian football and especially Chiellini’s Juventus club.

But I think it is fair to ask the question why does Luis Suárez occasionally bite his opponents? What motivates these acts of violence? It is clear that – for all his flaws – his occasional outbursts are not motivated by hatred.

In fact, it is worth concluding on the thought that the relatively minor acts of aggression that has Suárez has registered – recall that his recent nibble was not even the most violent act of that match, never mind the broader footballing world – are at least partially motivated by that early desperation to escape from poverty and isolation. How ironic that FIFA should heavy-hand down a sharp punishment against Suárez for an act that has its roots in poverty, while FIFA is responsible for acts of aggression against impoverished Brazilians that are almost incalculable. Indeed, the entire infrastructure of the corporate spectacle that is the World Cup is a bloodsucking affair wherein FIFA, Coca-Cola, Budweiser and their friends suck wealth out of Brazil, physically attack anyone who resists their will, and build stadiums on top of the rubble that will be empty decaying symbols of the wealth that International Football stole from Brazil for decades to come.

Luis Suárez was supposed to be one of the poor kids who would be buried underneath the World Cup. Instead, he found love and he found a family and he found football and determined that he would not, under any circumstances, give them up. He rose, instead, to the top of the World Cup, defied the colonial narratives and defeated the English and Italians before being kicked out of the tournament. Along the way, he made some poor judgement calls. But he made them for reasons that are infinitely more forgivable than much of the violence that takes place in football.

And, so far in this World Cup, he has yet to draw blood from his opponents. That is more than can be said of the organization that has passed down his sentence.

Tyler Shipley is the editor of Left Hook.

* Author’s note: after publishing this piece, it was rightly called to my attention that this paragraph served to trivialize and dismiss mestizo racism and the use of the term “negrito” as hurtful racial abuse.  This was not at all my intention, but on reflection, the critique is absolutely fair and I owe a sincere and significant apology for the careless way this paragraph was written. I am familiar with the way the term is used in Central America, if not specifically in Uruguay, and I should have known better than to be so callous in my dismissal. What I was trying to do – ineffectively, in retrospect – was distinguish between acts and expressions of white supremacist racism, on the one hand, and manifestations of racism that emerge out of the colonial experience and the creation of racial hierarchies “beneath” whiteness, on the other. Mestizo racism towards black or indigenous people in Latin America is a product of the position mestizos held in the colonial hierarchy. Mestizos themselves, however, regularly find themselves the subjects of white racism in other contexts. In that sense, my point was to try to complicate Suarez’s location in the ongoing racist legacy of colonialism, whereby people who are subject to colonial racism are encouraged to replicate those dynamics along a complicated and deeply problematic hierarchy.

However, I did not articulate that point clearly, not at all. Instead, in my haste to respond to British tabloids which have capitalized on Suarez’s racism to justify their own attacks on him, I trivialized and downplayed a serious and hurtful piece of Suarez’s history and indeed of Uruguayan and world history. I have understood the term “negrito” to be very context-dependant. Since “negro” translates simply as “black,” it is sometimes used as a self-identifier (as in the case of an organization in Honduras called the Organización Fraternal Negra Hondureña). Nevertheless, I know that it is also used as racial abuse, to maintain the social distinctions within communities, and to hurt people. It was incredibly careless of me to slide past this without more emphasis, and I apologize to all who have read and been hurt by that.

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10 Responses to Fangs out, Luisito! FIFA, Violence, Luis Suárez, Colonialism, Biting, and Blood

  1. ewayneross says:

    So much of what is written above is absolutely on the mark, but the claim that Suárez’s biting is “motivated by that early desperation to escape from poverty and isolation” is absurd.

    You’ve identified many problems with FIFA, European football, and the media (stodgy, conservative, colonialist, and exploitative), but the armchair psychological analysis is ridiculous. Suárez’s origins are irrelevant to his behaviour on the pitch, and the genetic fallacy at the heart the claim undermines what is otherwise an important critique of football elites and the media.

    Sports fans need to read more critical deconstructions of exploitative capitalist sports organizations and the media, but they don’t need oversimplified, dualistic narratives. Why not explore the complexities of Suárez, the poor little kid from the slums who made $18 million this past season?

    I’m hoping this post is offered in the fashion of Alan Sokal.

  2. Alex says:

    ‘His reputation was further marred by an incident in 2011 in which Suárez called Patrice Evra “negrito,” a term which in Spanish can be used as endearment. Suárez’s grandfather was black and was called “negrito” by his grandmother. But ladino culture in Latin America contains a kind of ingrained and normalized racism that, in all likelihood, was the real motivation behind Suarez’s outburst. Suárez would not be the first ladino player to express this brand of racism and it cannot be excused, though it should be distinguished as different from more hateful and violent forms of white supremacist racism.’

    This is complete and utter bullshit.
    HE NEVER CALLED Evra ‘negrito’. This story was spun by Liverpool FC’s pr department in the immediate wake of the Evra incident.

    Let’s look what really happened: -

    “Mr Evra’s evidence was that, in response to his question “Why did you kick me?”, Mr Suárez replied “Porque tu eres negro”. Mr Evra said that at the time Mr Suárez made that comment, he (Mr Evra) understood it to mean “Because you are a nigger”. He now says that he believes the words used by Mr Suárez mean “Because you are black”. We shall consider further below Mr Evra’s understanding of the Spanish word “negro”.

    Mr Suárez said that he replied to Mr Evra’s question “Why did you kick me?” by saying “que habia sido una falta normal”, meaning “it was just a normal foul”. He said he shrugged his shoulders and put his arms out in a gesture to say that there was nothing serious about it. At this point on the video footage Mr Suárez’s face is obscured but he does appear to shrug his shoulders.

    Mr Suárez said that he replied to Mr Evra’s question “Why did you kick me?” by saying “que habia sido una falta normal”, meaning “it was just a normal foul”. He said he shrugged his shoulders and put his arms out in a gesture to say that there was nothing serious about it. At this point on the video footage, Mr Suárez’s face is obscured but he does appear to shrug his shoulders.

    Mr Evra said that he followed up Mr Suárez’s reply “Because you are black” by saying “Habla otra vez asi, te voy a dar una porrada”, which means “Say it to me again, I’m going to punch you”. Mr Suárez replied by saying “No hablo con los negros”. Mr Evra said that, at the time, he understood this to mean “I don’t speak to niggers”, although he now says it means “I don’t speak to blacks”.

    In the report, Suarez claimed: “I would refer to Glen Johnson as ‘negro’ in the same way that I might refer to Dirk Kuyt as ‘Blondie’ – because he has blond hair, or Andy Carroll as ‘Grandote’ – ‘Big Man’ – because he is very tall.

    “Where I come from it is normal to refer to people in this way by reference to what they look like. There is no aggression in referring to somebody in this way and there is certainly no racial connotation.”

    The entire conversation took place in Spanish and linguistic experts Professor Peter Wade and Dr James Scorer helped the panel with the meaning of the phrases.

    The commission added: “In our judgment, Mr Suarez’s use of the term [negro] was not intended as an attempt at conciliation or to establish rapport; neither was it meant in a conciliatory and friendly way.”

    • Rod says:

      C’mon man, seriously?, where are you from?, sentences like “Porque tu eres negro” or “…te voy a dar una porrada” are not correct, that kind of words are never used in Uruguay in that way and context, also, “porrada” is not used at all, the 99.9% of the times that the word/term “negro” is used, it is in friendly way. Please be serious about this.

      Regards.

  3. Ben says:

    You have some serious issues if you feel Suarez has been unfairly treated. A studded tackle is never the same as a punch, slap, bite or spitting act to an opponent.
    This has nothing to do with English media, and everything to do with a troubled individual that has frequently done the wrong thing. Suspended for 34 games in the span of 4 years without a red card is indicative enough of this individuals problems.
    what would be your opinion of a convicted criminal reoffending?? That he has been poorly judged and subject to prejudice from the community?? He reoffended therefore he must pay his dues with the goal of rehabilitation.
    People like you are doing Suarez no favours by deviating from the problem

  4. Mike Hawk says:

    What a bunch of bullshit. Author definitely is either a die hard Liverpool or Uruguay fan.

  5. Andrea Goncalez says:

    I don’t know how you want to twist things here so that your piece looks as if you are shedding some light to the case of “Suarez”, but your story lacks understanding of South American soccer, soccer in general, and its historical roots, to say the least.

    Suarez is an amazing player, no doubt. The “bite” story does provide structure for the narrative of “Suarez-The Villain”, but your analysis of the colonial subject is laughable. Stop victimizing the subject here. Suarez was punished, indeed excessively, for his actions in the field. Similar to many other cases in the past, Zidane was punished for his head-butt in 2006, a Brazilian player in the WC of 1994 was banned from the entire game from kicking another player brutally with his elbows. Recently, one of Germany’s most famous footballers, Beckenbauer, has been banned by FIFA for “failing to cooperate with an investigation into corruption allegations against Qatar”. Are those stories all related to your “colonial-victimizing-narrative”? No. They might be well explained by a serious analysis of the history of deceit, corruption, and monopoly vis-a-vis the soccer’s ruling body FIFA. Definitely, something that requires a more rigorous examination of FIFA’s strategies, politics, and power. There is more to FIFA’s excessive punishment to Suarez than your prêt-à-porter colonial analysis.

    Another intriguing point from your article is how quickly you downplay Suarez’s racial abuse incident with Machester player Patrice Evra. I am a black Uruguayan. Trust me: “negrito” is not a term in Spanish that can be used as endearment. Especially, if you are being called a “negrito” in 90 min of the match. It hurts. A LOT. This word isolated me from the rest of my “white” Uruguayan friends, and whoever implies that is a non-rationalized term is banalizing the history of Uruguay’s racism and class inequalities. We learned as “negritos” to accept our condition. But I never go on and say “Holla, branquitto boy”. This is so absurd! Trust me, no one never called me negrito out of brotherly love.

    In Uruguay, Suarez is a national treasure, and our newspapers and media have placed him in a pedestal. Similar to your article, our media places a lot of emphasis on the poor, skinny 9-year-old kid Suarez whose ascendancy to stardom was a history of sacrifice and toil, which is the equivalent to say that the average American has a house, a car, and a corporate job, and eats apple pie in the weekend. Every great soccer player in South America (e.g, Pele, Maradona, Socrates, Elias Figueroa, Mario Kempes and Ezon Francescoli) came from an impoverished background. It’s a sad reality here in the South. Our soccer history is full of economic imperatives. These players see “soccer” as a way out of “poverty”, the road to a better life. Many clubs take advantage of that. Exploiting these kids for long-hours of work under the promise of becoming the next “Messi”. They are quickly replaceable if they do not match the expectations of clubs or don’t meet the “hot commodity” demand of European clubs. Most “elite” clubs purposively restrict young players from having a decent education. Soccer means “money” here. Imagine now the pressure on the shoulders of these players? Their aggressive and abnormal behaviour sometimes are a sign of their frustration and years of exploitation from the pressure to “perform” their best. These players need urgently care and the dynamics of “elite” clubs in relation to the players need to be evaluate seriously here.

    We can beat the Italians, English, Dutch, and German teams by remaining faithful to our grassroots football, that is, playing with passion, with “gusto”. You can stick with your analysis of the poor-victimized narrative of Suarez, but here in Uruguay, he is still our treasure, for everything he accomplished in the past, but we won’t idealize him by twisting arguments to justify his latest violent acts. Reading a history of colonialism here is beyond imagination.

    • Left Hook says:

      Andrea, thank you for this comment, which I think demands a thoughtful response from me. I don’t agree entirely with your critique (or, rather, I think we actually agree without knowing it) but before I say anything about that, let me start with an apology and retraction:

      My uncritically describing the term “negrito” as one of endearment was way off the mark and I’m glad you’ve called it out. I owe an apology to anyone who was hurt by such a casual dismissal. I am, actually, quite familiar with the way the term is used in Central America, if not specifically in Uruguay, and I should have known better than to be so callous in my dismissal. What I was trying to do – ineffectively, in retrospect – was distinguish between acts and expressions of white supremacist racism, on the one hand, and manifestations of racism that emerge out of the colonial experience and the creation of racial hierarchies “beneath” whiteness, on the other. Mestizo racism towards black or indigenous people in Latin America is a product of the position mestizos held in the colonial hierarchy. Mestizos themselves, however, regularly find themselves the subjects of white racism in other contexts. In that sense, my point was to try to complicate Suarez’s location in the ongoing racist legacy of colonialism, whereby people who are subject to colonial racism are encouraged to replicate those dynamics along a complicated and deeply problematic hierarchy.

      However, I did *not* articulate that point clearly, not at all. Instead, in my haste to respond to British tabloids which have capitalized on Suarez’s racism to justify their own attacks on him, I trivialized and downplayed a serious and hurtful piece of Suarez’s history and indeed of Uruguayan and world history. I have understood the term “negrito” to be very context-dependant. Since “negro” translates simply as “black,” it is sometimes used as a self-identifier (as in the case of an organization in Honduras that I am quite familiar with, called the Organización Fraternal Negra Hondureña.). Nevertheless, I know that it is also used as racial abuse, to maintain the social distinctions within communities, and to hurt people. It was incredibly careless of me to slide past this without more emphasis, and I apologize to all who have read and been hurt by that. I will also make a note of this in the text.

      On the rest of your critique, respectfully, I think we disagree on a few points, and I think your critique actually demonstrates the broader point of my argument. For instance, I absolutely agree that the story of FIFA is one of corruption, nepotism, and violence of a variety of sorts. But I think that FIFA’s history *is* colonial, it’s structures of power and the dynamics of its corruption reflect and replicate longstanding colonial dynamics. A big point that I can’t do justice to in a comment thread, but certainly there has been much written about this (perhaps not enough) and certainly Eduardo Galeano has said some important things in this vein.

      Finally, your last two paragraphs make points that I entirely agree with. Indeed, I think they demonstrate precisely my point. Suarez, like so many footballers from the global south (and even from the margins of the global north) is a high-pressure affair where players are placed in an incredibly difficult situation where they are encouraged to do whatever they must to be selected to highly ranked teams. As you say, they may sacrifice many things, including education, in that pursuit. The pursuit of making an “elite” team can encourage players to act out behaviours that are damaging to themselves and to others. Suarez is one example of many. I find it outrageous – and deeply colonial – for the media and institutions connected to those elite clubs to turn around and punish Luis Suarez for behaviours that are (partly) generated and encouraged by their own institutions. The same companies (Adidas, for instance) that maintain and benefit from poverty in the global south are the ones that sponsor players who perform well in the high-pressure context you described. Then, when that pressure manifests itself in acts of violence, Adidas acts “offended” and drops it’s sponsorship, washing it’s hands of a mess it helped to create. I call this a colonial dynamic because it is corporate power (rooted in Europe and North America) taking advantage of people in postcolonial states, using their bodies and abilities as profitable spectacles, and then dumping them and acting outraged when the people inside those bodies don’t behave perfectly.

      In that sense, I think your points actually aren’t so different from the argument in making here. Perhaps I did not explain it well enough in the original piece. I hope this clarification helps. Thanks again for your thoughtful comment. And let’s hope for a good result for Uruguay even without Suarez.

      Tyler

  6. I appreciate this article, as well as its speedy production shortly after the sentencing. I support these critiques of the neo-liberal FIFA moralities that have been ongoing since ‘The End of History.’ Especially when Fifa chances to show its ass by so lavishly choosing the range of NationState humps soon to be suckling on the get rich quick teet in Russia and Qatar – proving that 2nd and 3rd worlds of old are ready for the saddle, “All in one Rhythm.” I would however counter with what Uruguay represents in World Football. Historically, it is a demigod, the original Brazil. Suarez is not just one lucky kid, but also one talented young man who comes from a proven footballing nation. Afterall, this desperation of clinging by the skin of his teeth narrative has always been said about rags to riches footballers from the likes of Diego and Best to Gazza… Each of them scoundrels to the end. With this comparison, can we not also give Suarez the beneficial thespian courtesy of fully knowing his craft and plying it for the annals of history? The hands of god against Ghana in ’10, the fangs of god against Italy in ’14.

    I take your point for the British media preference of European veteran footballers like Chiellini over the sly, deviant and dirty Uruguayan. However, how can Italian, Spanish or Greek footballers not be givin the same sympathetic analysis? Do you suggest that Uruguayan clubs do not have ultras supporting neo-fascistic politics or supremacies like that of the Old Lady? As Juan Maria Bordaberry and Juan Peron have much to discuss in their slated afterlives with Benito Mussolini from the banks of the Rio de la Plata in heaven. The British press always dogs the swarthy but loves even more to remonstrate their own on the national stage. And to that –

    My last point would be…John Terry, JT. I think the relevance of these two players, Terry and Suarez, receiving the can opener at the same time is worth analyzing. He too fell from Mr. England to desperate housemates for similar actions both physical and verbal as that of Suarez and serendipitously at the same times. Is it that the English system can replace a Terry as captain for his indecencies in 2010 but that Uruguay cannot and are predisposed to choose a villain for their #9 in 2014? Does the morality of Italian hero and England coach Fabio Capello matter versus that of unapologetic Óscar Tabárez’s management for his round of 16 bound side? These seem too flimsy as logic carried through to the fullest from the arguments of a proscribed essentialist British press hatred of once poor, now wealthy, ladino footballers like Suarez.

    Solidarity

  7. Luz Roberta says:

    Ms Andrea Goncalez
    I don’t believe for a minute you are Uruguayan. An Uruguayan never would say Soccer instead of football, and “branquito” is not a Spanish or Uruguayan Spanish word, perhaps you meant to say blanco.

  8. Brian says:

    No one seems to appreciate that when Suarez told Evra “tranquilo negrito” he was responding to Evra calling him a “surthaca” (not sure if thats how its spelt) which is a racist derogatory term used in Spain by the Spanish to describe South Americans. So Evra was definitely being racist to Suarez, whilst Suarez was being patronizing (rather than outright racist) towards Evra by calling him ‘negrito’. He probably could’ve called him ‘francesito’ or used the diminutive ‘ito’ at the end of a word to describe Evra.

    I know of a fair few racist terms that are used across South America that are specifically racist against blacks, and I’m sure if Suarez really wanted to be racist he could’ve used one of those terms!!!

    Not sure why he bites people, and there is no excuse, but no player’s career will ever end from a bite. FIFA should focus on eradicating studs up tackles and diving before biting!!

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