
Why there is more to soccer jerseys today than mere colours, fabrics and tribalism
Joey D'Urso is showing me football jerseys, lifting them up to the screen from his sunny London apartment. Among them are Venezia, Aston Villa and Schalke. To the uninitiated, his haul might seem excessive. Yet, these shirts have been but a fraction of those D'Urso has collated over the past five years.
D'Urso is senior data journalist at The Times of London, but he previously worked as a political correspondent for the BBC and an investigations writer for The Athletic. He regularly worked on stories about how Asian gambling companies came to dominate the
Premier League
,
Saudi Arabia's
growing influence on sport in general, and the nature of how jersey sponsors are chosen to represent more than modified trims, polyester collars and the colours that will go on to trace a young person's life.
That led to him writing More than a Shirt: How Football Shirts Explain Global Politics, Money and Power, a new investigative book set on tracing the lines between the seemingly innocuous colour combinations and a nation's fiscal struggles, social values and political ideologies as geopolitical issues seep into every aspect of the beautiful game. Partly, the task was personal.
'It's such a cliche,' D'Urso says, 'But it's so much more than football [to me]. It's like the North Star in my life. And I think that's true for so many people. Like, my family have all moved houses, relatives have died, all those sorts of things ... but I will always have one physical place that will be the same as when I went for the first time when I was four. And that's my community.'
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For most of football's history, the idea of a non-partisan recognition would have been beyond belief. From its earliest days, the game was a tribal affair, defined by who is in and, more importantly, who is out. In the modern era, D'Urso argues, the cultural currency of jerseys has given credence to a universality, allowing us, in no small way, to think about one singular idea in a world divided.
'Culture is entirely fragmented at the minute,' he says. 'If you see, say, a great TV programme, there are so many streaming platforms now that chances are your friend isn't subscribed to the same thing. Same with music, art ... [but] football runs counter to that.'
Joey D'Urso: 'I wasn't expecting to see a football shirt with a Pablo Escobar protege on the back'
Yet, with this, the possibility for infiltration runs deep. With 3.5 billion fans worldwide and a vintage jerseys market booming, the ability to connect millions of fans with a positive idea of totalitarianism or climate change has never been easier.
'This Schalke jersey has Gazprom across the front, which is a Russian gas company, and it kind of tells the story of how
Russia
, essentially, bought off Germany through cheap gas,' D'Urso says.
'That manifested itself in Germany basically being soft on Russia compared to other European countries. Then, when Russia invaded
Ukraine
in 2022, this all imploded spectacularly.
Lionel Messi, right. of Barcelona celebrates with Cesc Fabregas after scoring against AC Milan in the Champions League in 2012. Photograph: Manuel Queimadelos Alonso/Getty
'In Germany today, there are people with this shirt with a blue sticker over it, because they're embarrassed to be wearing something that's deeply linked to the invasion of Ukraine.'
In Medellín, Colombia, the methods were more subtle.
'An old kit from Envigado FC features a little silhouette of a man on the back,' D'Urso says with a smile. 'That man was a drug warlord whose son, the owner of the club, ordered him to be on it to honour his father. The club was later sanctioned by the American government for big-time organised crime, resulting in the club not being allowed to have any sponsors for years. And that club is where James Rodriguez, top scorer at 2014 World Cup, got his start. But yeah ... I wasn't expecting to see a football shirt with a
Pablo Escobar
protege on the back.'
Even clubs that seemed untouchable weren't immune to political agendas. 'Barcelona at one stage didn't have a sponsor,' he says. 'And then suddenly they had Unicef, and they actually paid
Unicef
. And this was worn by the best football team of all time: Messi, Iniesta, Guardiola.
In his book, D'Urso urges readers to look at the examples he shares to change the way we might see the world
'But then, when
Qatar
was awarded the World Cup in 2010, Barcelona suddenly had Qatar Foundation and Qatar Airways on their shirt. In that way, sponsors in particular and shirts in general, kind of have the ability to warn you of the future. From lofty ideals to selling out to a Middle Eastern oil state.'
These globalising impulses have undoubtedly shaped all sport, not just soccer. However, what brings it closer to home for Irish fans is the Borders chapter, framed around
Rangers FC
and Club Deportivo Palestino.
'Football is often the embodiment of borders,' D'Urso says. 'And, weirdly, from what I understand, it's that the better the politics become [of a place], the more toxic the football is. Club Deportivo Palestino, in Santiago, has a huge Palestinian diaspora, and they recently had green and white in their kit because they have a kind of link with the fan base of
Celtic
. It's people expressing their identity. And, to me, it's better that people do that through football than through like, violence in the streets.'
Inevitably, kits will continue to fascinate for some time – perhaps as the single unifying act of an unstable sport in an unstable world.
As a tribalist among the like-minded, D'Urso urges 3.5 billion of his closest friends to take the 22 examples he shares in the book to change the way one might see the world. 'Every shirt tells a different story,' he says, with a smile. 'With this book, I'd like to give people the tools to find out those stories for themselves.'
More than a Shirt: How Football Shirts Explain Global Politics, Money and Power by Joey D'Urso is published by Seven Dials and is available in bookshops

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Irish Times
an hour ago
- Irish Times
Johnny Giles was the footballer, John Giles was the pundit – both were geniuses in their own way
Forget honesty of effort, forget doing your stuff. The first time I became aware of Johnny Giles , he was doing a rabona. Nobody called it that, not at the time he did it in March 1972 nor whatever year in the 1980s it was when I came to see it on video. But he pulled it out, insouciant as you like, in a famous passage of play during a Leeds game when they were 7-0 up on Southampton. Even now, when you look it up on YouTube, the astonishing thing is that none of the Southampton players went over and buried him for it. Leeds were, to put a Fifa-approved technical term on it, prick-acting about – Billy Bremner was doing keepy-uppies and back-heeling passes for no reason other than to embarrass the opposition. Given that it would have taken the wielding of a chainsaw to be sent off in those days, it was always a wonder Gilsey didn't get a slap for his messing. God alone knows why we had it on video. Ours was not a Leeds United house, nor anything close to it. 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He finished up with Newstalk during the week, bringing an end to a media career that lasted twice as long as his actual playing career. Throughout it, you could tell what he stood for, always. You could tell what he thought was nonsense, always. If it didn't make sense to send your centre-half up as a spare striker in the first five minutes, it doesn't make sense to do it in the final five either. The good players take touches that give themselves time on the ball, the less good ones take touches that cut down their time on the ball. If a midfielder has found himself ahead of the ball in the opposition half, he hasn't understood what being a midfielder is. Core beliefs. Changeless as canal water. John Giles has retired at the age of 84. Dunphy's podcast has wound up, probably for good. Dear old Billo went to the presenter's chair in the sky a whole 10 years ago . The world keeps turning and new voices take over, as they should. 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Irish Times
an hour ago
- Irish Times
Anyone for tennis from a burning planet?
Amid the opening-day downpours of Wimbledon in 1922, 'diehard old-timers' declared that the 'wrath of heavens' had unleashed itself upon the Championships. They blamed the sin of ambition: the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club, responding to the superstar status of French postwar phenomenon Suzanne Lenglen, had just relocated to new, larger grounds. 'Our hearts were as leaden as the skies,' backroom staff member Norah Gordon Cleather, later the acting club secretary, wrote of that rain-thwarted first day. Walk into Wimbledon today and heaven's wrath will be well hidden. The site in the SW19 postcode of London is a purple-hued playground with textures far lovelier than can be captured by television. Even when it rains and those squads of highly trained teenagers pull the covers over the courts with military speed, there's an aura and a bloom. This is a place to prioritise pleasure. In New York, at the sweltering fourth Grand Slam tournament of the year, the mood can turn darker. 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I thought it was the hot mess of Grand Slam tennis I was seeking: the gladiatorial competition, the chasing down of lost causes, the agony of match points squandered, the audacity of drop shots, the no-look handshakes, the last gasps of glory in injury-stalled careers. As a television viewer, it is the juxtapositions that compel. All sports hinge on rules, precision and fairness, but because tennis is more than averagely wrapped up in etiquette inherited from the Victorian leisure class, emotions and bodily functions that would be unremarkable in other sports can seem incongruous on its hallowed courts. Order and chaos have a habit of colliding, nevertheless. Other species, for instance, seem to love nothing more than rocking up to remind humans they can't control everything. Snakes, bees, cats and various birds have all been known to interrupt play. At Wimbledon, players have had to swat away flying ants with their rackets – the sight of Danish former number one Caroline Wozniacki shaking her personal swarm out of her plait in 2018 was one 'distinctive blend of sport and nature'. [ Everywhere you look in the world of sport now climate change is biting Opens in new window ] Billie Jean King, the legendary champion and equality trailblazer, once defined tennis as the 'perfect combination of violent action taking place in an atmosphere of total tranquillity'. It's an old quote and I wonder if it's still true. When I watch, from home, a rally played during an earthquake (in Acapulco), a server rattled by the sonic boom of a fighter jet (in Paris) or those handshake-free matches between opponents whose countries are at war, tennis doesn't seem tranquil. But when I'm a fan-flapping spectator, tranquillity – the civilisation of it all – turns out to be what I value and aspire to most. 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Buying tickets for outdoor tournaments in Italy or France, I study online seat maps closely as I try to work out the aspect of arenas, the quantity of sunshine I covet and the amount of exposure I will be able to take before I reach, in tennis parlance, break point. Heat, even in climates where it is expected, can feel ominous. Everyone wants to see exceptional play, or what commentators call 'tennis from another planet'. No one wants to see tennis from a burning planet. Back at sustainability-championing Wimbledon, it is still hard to conceive of the wrath of heavens as something dry, cloudless and stealthily deadening, even as climate scientists forecast more extreme and prolonged heatwaves for our future summers. But sooner or later, players, spectators and courts alike will be baked in ways that would never have been predicted when the first Championships was held in 1877. Sport, the epitome of our pursuit of excellence and a release valve for so many, must adapt fast to this global heating, parching, melting, and that means being prepared to change the rules. 'It gets late early,' is an old saying of baseball catcher Yogi Berra , or 'Yogi-ism', sometimes cited during best-of-three-set tennis matches that whizz by too quickly for the losing player to mount a comeback. In the climate emergency it gets late early, too. Some unforced errors, as players know, cost you the match.


Irish Times
an hour ago
- Irish Times
Saipan the movie triggers a two-word reaction from Jason McAteer
It was a 'been there, done that' moment for former Republic of Ireland midfielder Jason McAteer this week when the trailer for an upcoming film circulated online. Saipan, due for release later this year, looks back on the spat between Roy Keane and manager Mick McCarthy on the Pacific island before the 2002 World Cup, which prompted the team captain's absence from the tournament and devastated a chunk of the nation. A line from Keane's criticism of the FAI's planning for the competition – 'fail to prepare, prepare to fail' – became famous and will surely be delivered by Éanna Hardwicke, who plays the former Manchester United captain, in the film. 'What makes him a great player on the pitch makes him a pain in the arse off it,' says Steve Coogan, who plays McCarthy, of the Corkman in the trailer. READ MORE McAteer, whose goals against the Netherlands in the qualifying phase helped Ireland to reach that World Cup, responded to a post on social media website X featuring the trailer, simply stating: 'Seen it.' Roy Keane and Jason McAteer during a Premiership match between Sunderland and Manchester United in 2002. Photograph: Getty He is played by Oliver Coopersmith in the film. McAteer was critical of Keane's departure from Saipan, and the pair memorably clashed months afterwards when Manchester United visited Sunderland. In an on-field confrontation during the game, McAteer gestured as Keane was being restrained, advising him to 'put it all in the next book'. Keane was later sent off for delivering an elbow to the side of McAteer's head. Department of Agriculture secretary general Brendan Gleeson with Environmental Protection Agency director general Laura Burke. 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With big cuts to agriculture-related carbon emissions needed by 2030, uncertainty over whether tariffs will hit the multibillion euro agri-food sector and ongoing unhappiness among farmers about the level of 'red tape' they face, Gleeson's successor in Agriculture House will have plenty of complex issues to grapple with. Pope Leo XIV wears a Chicago White Sox hat during an appearance at St Peter's Square in the Vatican earlier this month. Photograph: Filippo Monteforte/AFP via Getty Pope Leo's expanding wardrobe An image of Pope Francis sporting a white designer puffer jacket went viral a couple of years back, but many were left disappointed when it turned out to have been generated by artificial intelligence (AI). Some assumed a photograph that appeared earlier this month of Pope Leo XIV decked out in a cassock and a Chicago White Sox baseball cap for an outing in St Peter's Square might also have been doctored. Oh ye of little faith. The pope wore the White Sox hat soon after being honoured with a mural near where he sat when he attended his hometown club's opening 2005 World Series game. Should we see an image of him in a red GAA jersey in the near future, there's every chance it too could be legitimate, as he was recently gifted one during the Vatican's Jubilee of Sport. The weekend event brought athletes together to reflect on the role of sport as a source of resilience and fraternity. Catherine Hallinan, Niamh Ryan, and Katie Molloy of Rome Hibernia GAA club. Photograph: Vatican News Among those who attended were members of the Rome Hibernia GAA club – Co Tipperary woman Catherine Hallinan, Niamh Ryan from Co Limerick and New Yorker Katie Molloy. They caught the pope's attention during an audience in St Peter's Basilica and passed on the top, featuring an image of St Michael the Archangel on top of Castel Sant'Angelo in Rome, to his handlers. 'We got the jubilee logo printed on the sleeve, written as Gaeilge,' Molloy told Vatican News. Hallinan later joked that they now considered Leo an honorary GAA member. Having a fan in the Vatican hasn't turned around the fortunes of the White Sox, who sit bottom of their division having lost 28 games in the seven weeks since Leo's election. The version of the fence which Dún Laoghaire-Rathdown County Council and An Bord Pleanála took issue with Balls to the boundary wall in Milltown Those travelling on Lower Churchtown Road in Dublin these days can snatch a clearer glimpse inside the exclusive Milltown Golf Club and see its golfers in action following the resolution of a planning dispute over a boundary fence. 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One observation on the application argued that it created 'a hostile boundary with the neighbourhood' and the use of decorative flowering climbers was 'totally not in keeping' with the vegetation along the other 1.6km of the boundary. However, the council recently granted temporary permission for the fence, but said the structure would have to be removed if further approval for its retention has not been granted by it or An Bord Pleanála within three years. The club will be hoping the fence has more than its fair share of climbers by 2028, but not of the unwanted trespasser kind. Lord Mayor of Dublin Emma Blain in the Mansion House. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw Lord Mayor throws Mansion House party as term nears end Fine Gael councillor Emma Blain held a bash in the Mansion House this week as her term as Lord Mayor of Dublin neared its end. It wasn't one to rival the events she would have attended in her days as a member of the Sunday Independent's culture-curious '03 team'. Nor would it compare to those thrown by councillor Nial Ring, whose hospitable ways during his stint as the city's first citizen more than exhausted the free beer allowance provided by Diageo to the Mansion House. Blain issued an invite to 'anyone living in Dublin who is 100 years old or over' to join her for The Centenarians of Dublin Afternoon Tea on Thursday. She has been keen to resume the Dublin City Centenarians Project, which started in the 1990s but stalled for reasons not clear to the outgoing mayor. 'People who have reached the age of 100 have seen so much and have a wealth of life experience to teach the rest of us,' she said. Blain intended to present each party guest with 'a beautiful framed scroll', 'a small gift' and to invite them to sign a roll of honour. 'Hopefully we can make this an annual event again going forward. It's so important that we take care of and honour our older citizens.'