Neto’s exile shows clubs still care, even when they shouldn’t

By its very nature, competitive sport in the modern day is a petty thing. It has evolved over the millennia from an age of bloodthirsty gladiatorial spectacles to one of Ashley Young being knocked over by the wheezing of an opposition defender, and of Alessio Cerci walking his cat -- lead and all-- through Florence. Yet instead of chuckling at the sheer ludicrousness of the footballing juggernaut’s foibles and followers, the modern day supporter reacts as if life itself is still on the line (of course, if you’re Robin van Persie and you dare to venture near Ashley Williams, it is).

Indeed, one imagines that if Twitter had existed in the Roman Republic, the 140-character ramblings of its sports-going citizens -- let’s say of the settlements of Nuceria and Pompeii in AD 59, between whom a swordfight broke out after what Tacitus described as a “trifling incident at a gladiatorial show” -- would be scarcely more spiteful than the average supporter’s feed after an underwhelming performance. Sport in the modern day has changed beyond recognition, but the base instincts of those involved certainly have not.

And what is true of the fans, is true of the clubs. Modern day football teams may be criticised as being results-producing machines filled with and owned by careless foreign robots, isolated from the passion and the spirit of the fans they’re supposed to represent -- but hell still hath no fury like a club snubbed.

Fiorentina’s decision, however, is rather more illogical. If they had a young up-and-comer ready and waiting, who could benefit from a few months of learning the ropes (after all they have little to lose in a very underwhelming mid-table position) then dropping Neto is understandable. But they don’t. Tătăruşanu is 28 and is as good -- or, as the case may be, as average -- as he’ll ever be. And as such, their decision to isolate Neto is a hot-headed, illogical one as detrimental to the club as it is to a player who has presumably been handed a few good offers to further his career, and who has hardly treated them with disrespect. The club may feel like they’ve been jilted, but in a dispassionate light, Neto is fully within his rights to move on after a couple of years of first-team service.

Certainly, that’s all very well for the neutral to say; fans of Fiorentina no doubt feel a different way. Indeed, one poor soul was sufficiently hurt by Neto’s decision to leave that he went and etched his kind regards down on the beach:

But fans by definition care for their clubs, and as such, expect the players to care too. It’s not particularly pleasant to think that your hero doesn’t reciprocate your love for the colours -- even when there’s no inherent reason, save for the passage of time, to believe that they would. Things have probably been the same way for as long as sport has existed. To that end, pettiness among fans is to be expected.

However, when it comes to sporting decisions like Fiorentina’s, things are rather less understandable. Freezing Neto out will only make the remainder of their season more difficult, and cause bad blood with a player who is making a decision that most other outsiders would too. Perhaps the only good thing that can be said for their decision is its demonstration that, in an era of footballing corporatisation and globalisation, clubs do sometimes still care -- even when it might be better that they didn’t.