…in which Le Colonel Chabert demonstrates that she understands neither Deleuze, nor football:

The occasional jungle and zoo metaphors from brazenly racist coaches or the mechanical or chemical imagery of the elite commentariat aside, the irresistible appeal of the game as spectacle is its wholly, irreplaceably human and social character. On the pitch, there can be no animal but human beings, and no divine daemons. No lines of flight from us as we are, no becoming- machine or becoming-animal are invited or encouraged by the football context: humanity precisely as human is what is required here.

She can’t have seen Steve Bell’s running commentary on the world cup. Or, for that matter, have read k-punk on Ronaldo…

There is, incidentally, no shame in not understanding either Deleuze or football - I myself understand little of either (probably better on Deleuze than football; although I do believe the little I understand of Deleuze significantly augments the still less I understand of football).

But…the human precisely as human? What - as they say - the heck is that?

(To the extent that I enjoy watching football at all, I’d say the joy of it is in its becomings…)