Stop Freaking out About the Luis Suarez Bite

Luis Suarez (photo via)

Biting is the one indisputable reminder that humans really are what they wish they were not: animals. Biting is for raccoons, rats, and the rabid—an ignoble inconvenience you have to suffer through in order to feed yourself. Even though Americans typically don't give a shit about soccer, when Luis Suarez tried to take a chunk out of Branislav Ivanovic's arm yesterday, the zombie bite drew national attention. It was bizarre and very funny, but it was also an embarrassing reminder for many that we have primal appetites and urges. Weirdly, it also got me thinking about Plato and his claim that the soul was divided into three parts: reason, spirit, and appetite. Reason was the greatest part and rare was the man whose soul was controlled by reason.

Most people, said Plato, were controlled by appetite. They rooted around in their own filth, having sex with members of the opposite sex, snuffling around for olives to accompany their crudely butchered goat meat. They were not what mankind should aspire to. They were never going to find the truth in life. They were the kind of people who, had they played soccer—a game sadly absent from ancient Athenian life—would perhaps have seen fit to sink their teeth into an opponent.

We like to imagine we’ve come a long way since fifth-century Athens. We like to imagine that, despite all the evidence to the contrary, our actions nowadays are essentially guided by reason. It may be a terrible or misguided reason, but it is a reason nonetheless. We are not animals. We do not bite. So when Suarez sunk his teeth into Ivanovic on Sunday afternoon, the world erupted as if the army of darkness were invading. On Sky Sports, the former Liverpool player Graeme Souness looked as though he were going to break down, as though the Suarez bite were the apex of human cruelty—an indelible blot on the reputation of the magnificent club he’d devoted the best years of his life to.

The Suarez/Ivanovic bite in all its slo-mo, circled glory.

“He is making it very difficult for himself to stay at Liverpool…This club is a world-renowned football club… but this is going to show Liverpool in a very bad light, especially in this week of all weeks,” Souness said, referring to the recent death of the indefatigable Hillsborough campaigner Anne Williams, as well as the Boston marathon bombings (Liverpool's owners have strong links to the city).

The idea here seems to be that the Suarez bite was especially regrettable because it came in a week in which a couple of awful things had happened. As if Suarez’s biting of Ivanovic were a grave and dreadful insult to the people of Boston. As if his act of on-field madness was a calculated fuck-off to the victims of the Hillsborough disaster. Various newspapers and talking heads seemed to agree. The “this week of all weeks” line was repeated in amazement and disgust. But the bite had nothing to do with the death of a Hillsborough campaigner or the detonation of explosives in a city thousands of miles from Liverpool.

It was an act of madness, an act of comic violence, but it was no worse than any of the dangerous tackles, stampings, or buttings—things that are generally far more painful and career threatening than a bite—that go on in soccer matches every weekend. What made it seem worse was its animalistic nature, the use of teeth as opposed to fists or studs. After all, a fox can bite, but only a noble human can place his studs on another man’s leg and, in doing so, apply enough force to snap that leg.

Souness, given the opportunity to exercise some reason from afar, obviously never reflected that, as a player, he’d been guilty of some horrendous tackles. More hilariously, when he was the manager of Galatasaray he once incited a riot by running on to the pitch of arch rivals Fenerbahce and pitching his team’s flag in the center circle.

The first time Suarez bit a player on the pitch, in 2010 while he was playing for Dutch club Ajax.

There’s no doubt that Suarez should be banned for a number of games, but everyone needs to stop piously pretending that Liverpool will even think about selling him. If they didn’t sell him after he was found guilty of racially insulting Patrice Evra, they’re not going to sell him now. And what kind of message would that send anyway? That Liverpool Football Club can tolerate racism but not biting? Discriminating against a man for the color of his skin is A-OK, but bite a man—it would seem—and you are a disgusting animal that needs to be put to sleep.

This week, Branislav Ivanovic will get up and go to training as usual. He's not pressing charges and he probably won’t even have to get a tetanus shot. A bite is no worse than a terrible tackle; it does not end careers, and it is certainly no worse than using racist language to antagonize an opponent. Suarez is no saint—we know that. The soccer he plays is an all-out war, guided by the dominating Uruguayan philosophy of garra (literally "claw," but implying a kind of hardheaded, streetwise cunning); for Suarez everything and anything is permitted. His relentless competitive streak means he will do absolutely anything to gain an advantage; biting is just part of that. It’s not right, and it’s kind of distressing, but it’s also entertaining and quite funny. Plus, Suarez—who will not be sold—has already been fined and has requested that his fine go to the Hillsborough Family Support Group, so that should appease everyone who spotted the direct link between the bite and the Hillsborough disaster 23 years ago.

Next to one of the articles I've read chastising Suarez today was an ad for a T-shirt bearing the Eric Cantona quote “When the seagulls follow the trawler, it's because they think sardines will be thrown into the sea.” Cantona said this in response to the press’s reaction to his jumping into the crowd and kung-fu kicking a fan. Today’s outrageous soccer crimes are tomorrow’s fondly remembered moments of madness.

Follow Oscar on Twitter: @oscarrickettnow