Arsene Wenger was one of the few kind men in a dehumanizing sport, and I’ll miss him

When Bob Wilson was introducing Wenger after Arsenal’s match against Burnley to say his goodbyes to the fans, he noted Wenger’s achievements, especially in leading the only unbeaten team in Premier League history. Then, after he listed what Wenger had achieved on the field, Wilson said: “Above all, Arsene is a man who cares deeply about people and helping them be the best they can be.”

Almost to prove Wilson’s point, Wenger, on the day dedicated to him and a celebration of his 22 years in charge of the club, came out and started his speech by saying:

“Before I start, I just want to say ... that I would like to wish my fellow manager Ferguson well.”

Sir Alex Ferguson had been rushed to the hospital a day prior for a brain hemorrhage. Ferguson and Wenger had been equal parts friends and rivals during their overlapping time in the Premier League, and there is a great deal of respect between the two. A week before Ferguson had presented Wenger with a gift before Arsenal’s match against Manchester United.

Wishing Ferguson a quick recovery was the decent thing to do, but it wasn’t surprising that Wenger would put his colleague first before everything else. As important as soccer was to him, it was always second to his tenderness towards others.

Wenger’s compassion is not an entirely radical attitude, but it stands out in a sporting world that reduces everything to economical terms.

Soccer, like most sports, thinks of everyone in it — players, managers, and even fans — in their relation to the all-consuming market. Players are defined by their transfer fees, they are to be bought and sold, those who can’t perform are labeled as “deadwood,” the successful and marketable ones become brands, fans are gate receipts and consumers, agents are superstars for their ability to move their clients, managers come and go quickly, and speculation of who the next one will be drives news cycles. The transfer windows are their own sport within the sport.

Because of the fact that soccer is a competition, the value of any athlete or manager is on what they can and cannot do, and what they’ve done recently. The humans within the sport are often reduced to things. It’s how they must exist within the sport, but it’s an existence at odds with humanity and compassion.

Wenger tried to act against this contradiction. He was kind when the world he occupied gave him right not to be. He treated human beings as humans, even while being as obsessed with winning as any other great manager.

When Wenger announced he was leaving Arsenal, one of the people who praised him was Abou Diaby, a former Arsenal player who was infamous for being injured most of his career:

Diaby was at Arsenal from 2006 to 2015, but in his first year he suffered a broken ankle and from then on would be besieged by injuries, hampering his great potential and putting him in the category of lost causes. In that time he appeared in just 181 games, playing only seven in his last three years.

Yet, Wenger never abandoned him. He didn’t do so just out of hope that Diaby would overcome his injuries, even though that hope was there, but because someone had to take care of him. After his release in 2015, Diaby said he could never thank Wenger enough for his compassion:

“The most important thing for me was that he believed in me,” said Diaby. “He is someone who understood me. He is someone who was enormously patient with me. Things started well but afterwards I had injuries and problems etc. But he was always there for me. I will never be able to thank him enough for what he did for me.”

In a sporting sense, Diaby was useless to Wenger and Arsenal, but in the human sense, he was a person who needed help. He was deprived of his talents and potential, which reduced his personhood entirely. He needed to be loved and cared for on those terms. For many years Wenger did so. Even after Diaby’s contract was up and Arsenal decided not to renew, he was allowed to use the medical facilities and to train with the team. Wenger even helped find him a new club.

That kindness can be seen as silly, Wenger kept a player who could do nothing for him. The best thing for the team would have been to move on. But that’s the greatness of Wenger: he did kind things even when he didn’t have to. Keeping Diaby did nothing to harm the team, but it did so much to help the man.

Diaby sounds like a lot of Wenger’s former and current players. When they talk about him, they talk about him as a caring person and often refer to him as a father figure — everyone, ranging from Jack Wilshere to George Weah. Players come to Arsenal to play for Wenger, and some stay in the bad times to repay the faith that he had in them.

And not just players. Since he’s been at Arsenal, Wenger has expanded the club’s charity work from London to across the world.

That level of caring is not essential to being a great manager, but it’s critical to being a good person, and more than anything that’s what was so endearing about Wenger. From all available information, he cared about people deeply.

The irony of the economical nature of soccer is we still want the players and managers to be human and relatable. We want those involved in sports to be good people because we want to like them. We need to like them. The emotional connection is what makes the suffering in sports worthwhile, and gives weight to the victories. The stories of the individuals involved matter as much as their talents.

Beneath the money in soccer is the truth that sports are also a way for people to connect to other people, communities, and ideals that they cherish. Wenger’s values gave Arsenal an aura of class that survived regardless of results.

Last year when Arsenal were having their Arsenal For All celebration, which championed diversity and inclusivity in the club and the sport, Matt Lucas, the honorary of an Arsenal fan group called Gay Gooners, spoke about how much the club has done to reduce homophobia in the game.

After the match, Wenger spoke of the responsibility of sports to society, and of own his personal philosophy:

“Personally, I preach sometimes in the desert a little bit because, for me, when you listen most of the time to people it’s only about winning [or] it’s only about buying — but for me a football club is first about values.”

Beyond what he won and what he lost at Arsenal, Wenger was a good example of a human being. He was both a genius and ridiculously stubborn, but first and foremost, he was a kind man. It’s what I will miss most about him.