Beckham Came to Define Football — and Redefine our Cultural Horizons
The midfield player may take some consolation that if his life as a professional player has indeed come to an abrupt halt, it has done so with a remarkable (almost fateful) symmetry. As a 14-year-old boy from East London, Beckham landed a dream opportunity when he was signed by his beloved Manchester United in 1989, making his debut at Old Trafford three years later.
Beckham was playing against, rather than for, Manchester United (representing Milan in the quarter-final of the Champions League) but that did not diminish the outpouring of adulation for a man with a keen sense of history, his face illuminated by the light of a thousand flashbulbs as he made his way down the Old Trafford tunnel.
Beckham obliterated all of that. It is not just that he likes wearing his wife’s knickers and the odd dash of make-up. It is not just that he has undergone so many personal reinventions that he is a walking tribute to cosmopolitanism. It is not just that he weeps in public and is so palpably in touch with his feminine side.
By broadening and softening the contemporary notion of masculinity, Beckham nudged the nation towards a wider vision of inclusiveness: the idea that it is not what you are or what you wear that matters, but what you do. “I always liked to look good, even when I was a little kid,” he once said. “I was given the option when I was a page boy once of either wearing a suit or wearing knickerbockers and long socks and ballet shoes — and I chose the ballet shoes and knickerbockers.”
But the defining reality of Beckham as a brand and as a person is not the glitzy superficiality that his critics suggest, but his durability. He triumphed for Manchester United in their 1998-99 treble-winning season after enduring national vilification for his sending-off against Argentina at the World Cup finals; he battled his way back into the first team at Real Madrid after he had been forced to train with the reserves by Capello; and he made a triumphant return for England having been dropped by Steve McClaren in 2006. The move to Los Angeles felt like an acceptance of second-best to football observers, but looked like an act of recompense to many towards a wife who had trailed him to Madrid, where his image was tarnished by an affair with Rebecca Loos.
“I’ve never really had a steady line throughout my career,” is how Beckham put it recently. “It’s always kind of been a rollercoaster. I’ve had more ups than downs, of course, but there have been those moments that have been difficult. I’ve always felt that the best way to respond is to work hard and to play the game. Usually that’s been good enough.”
He has been written off prematurely many times before, but this really does seem like the end of the road for the most influential, enigmatic, contradictory and beautiful British sportsman of modern times.
A ruptured Achilles tendon, sustained during an Italian league match for AC Milan on Sunday evening, will almost certainly rule David Beckham out of the World Cup and looks likely to mark the end of his career as a serious footballer — even if Fabio Capello, the England manager, did leave the door open for the European Championships in 2012 last night.
The midfield player may take some consolation that if his life as a professional player has indeed come to an abrupt halt, it has done so with a remarkable (almost fateful) symmetry. As a 14-year-old boy from East London, Beckham landed a dream opportunity when he was signed by his beloved Manchester United in 1989, making his debut at Old Trafford three years later.Last week he played what may turn out to be his final game on these shores at his spiritual home, the Theatre of Dreams reverberating to the acclaim of 80,000 fans as their most famous modern son draped himself in gold and green, the original colours of the club and the symbol of opposition to the current ownership regime.
Beckham was playing against, rather than for, Manchester United (representing Milan in the quarter-final of the Champions League) but that did not diminish the outpouring of adulation for a man with a keen sense of history, his face illuminated by the light of a thousand flashbulbs as he made his way down the Old Trafford tunnel.On any assessment, it has been a remarkable career. He holds the record of 115 outfield appearances for England, captained his nation on 59 occasions, twice reached the quarter-finals of the World Cup, won nine major honours for Manchester United, including six Premier League titles, two FA Cups and one Champions League winner’s medal, and twice finished runner-up in the FIFA World player of the year.
But it is Beckham’s influence beyond the pitch that will engage the army of pop sociologists who will ultimately deconstruct the cultural history of our times. They will note that before Beckham there was an assumption that in order to be a footballer you had to be a real man, and that in order to be a real man you had to be macho, overflowing with testosterone and virulently heterosexual.
Beckham obliterated all of that. It is not just that he likes wearing his wife’s knickers and the odd dash of make-up. It is not just that he has undergone so many personal reinventions that he is a walking tribute to cosmopolitanism. It is not just that he weeps in public and is so palpably in touch with his feminine side.It is that he openly embraced the affections of the gay community, not least when he posed half naked for the cover of Attitude magazine in 2002. “I am very honoured to have the tag of gay icon,” he proclaimed. “Beckham has made it possible to be a real man and gay,” was the assessment of John Amaechi, the first professional basketball player to come out as a homosexual.
By broadening and softening the contemporary notion of masculinity, Beckham nudged the nation towards a wider vision of inclusiveness: the idea that it is not what you are or what you wear that matters, but what you do. “I always liked to look good, even when I was a little kid,” he once said. “I was given the option when I was a page boy once of either wearing a suit or wearing knickerbockers and long socks and ballet shoes — and I chose the ballet shoes and knickerbockers.”Sure, he made buckets of cash as he surfed and ultimately redefined our cultural horizons. The synergy with Victoria, his wife and erstwhile Spice Girl, was undoubtedly a powerful factor in the potency of Brand Beckham, a phrase that neatly encapsulates the industry the couple eventually became. On the last Sunday Times Rich List their wealth was estimated at £125 million.
But the defining reality of Beckham as a brand and as a person is not the glitzy superficiality that his critics suggest, but his durability. He triumphed for Manchester United in their 1998-99 treble-winning season after enduring national vilification for his sending-off against Argentina at the World Cup finals; he battled his way back into the first team at Real Madrid after he had been forced to train with the reserves by Capello; and he made a triumphant return for England having been dropped by Steve McClaren in 2006. The move to Los Angeles felt like an acceptance of second-best to football observers, but looked like an act of recompense to many towards a wife who had trailed him to Madrid, where his image was tarnished by an affair with Rebecca Loos.
“I’ve never really had a steady line throughout my career,” is how Beckham put it recently. “It’s always kind of been a rollercoaster. I’ve had more ups than downs, of course, but there have been those moments that have been difficult. I’ve always felt that the best way to respond is to work hard and to play the game. Usually that’s been good enough.”Beckham is no politician — that is part of his charm — but some of the more sophisticated observers in Westminster will recognise his centrality to the new Labour project. It has become easy to decry Tony Blair but history will doubtless be kinder, pointing to the social legislation — civil partnerships, equalising the age of consent, abolishing Section 28 — that has made the nation more at ease with itself.
Legislation alone, however, can never wholly transform the quality of life for those who live — or merely look — a little different to the majority. Broader attitudes and assumptions matter most, and no cultural icon has done more to shape them, and to soften them, than Beckham.
Matthew Syed
