TThe summer months offer a break in my rhythm of life. The school year ends, personal life changes and, at least in principle, the weather changes. For those of us who find solace in the pages of football, summer becomes a rare moment to take a breather between seasons, a time when the sport that so often dictates our days takes a back seat. Yet even in this lull, I find myself drawn to the Olympics, fascinated by sports that I barely recognize and quickly forget in the four years between Games.

Like many others, every four years I am a fan of BMX, rugby sevens, synchronized diving or other gymnastics for two weeks. This brief, intense passion lasts until the next Olympic Games. It is a pleasant distraction, a temporary escape, but in truth it is also a way of filling the gap left by the absence of football, a sport that, for better or for worse, has shaped much of my life.

I often wonder how healthy this relationship with football is. The Olympics prevent people from withdrawing from football. I spend far too much time searching for meaning in this arbitrarily meaningless game. I wonder how my life could be better if I didn’t spend so much time planning my schedule around football games or thinking about where our team could improve or whether our pitches could be improved. Sometimes I imagine that life could be easier if I fell in love with a less time-consuming sport, like one I just watched. Maybe rock climbing.

This summer I hoped I could finally take a breath, but found I was holding it. News of far-right unrest was deeply disturbing. It was more than reminiscent of the football hooliganism of the 1980s, as Simon Kuper described in the FT. Tribalism was sparked by the false claim that an asylum seeker was responsible for gruesome murders in Southport. This lie sparked violence that left me angry and depressed. Eventually this turned to hope and pride as communities came together and gave us a glimpse of the true nature of our country.

We all search for a narrative in our lives that offers us coherence and hope. Then we cling to it like a lifeboat. Politicians play a crucial role in showing strength in enforcing the law, but more importantly in offering a vision of a future that works for everyone. Stability and hope are necessary to weather storms. Fear, chaos and violence are the winds that blow to our core and rob us of our grip on the present.

We are creatures searching for meaning, and this is particularly evident in our involvement in sport. It is why we invest so much emotional energy in these fleeting moments. Viktor Frankl argues in his seminal work Saying Yes to Life Anyway that the primary drive in human life is not pleasure, as Freud believed, or power, as Nietzsche believed, but the pursuit of meaning. Frankl’s experiences as a Holocaust survivor taught him that even in the most horrific circumstances, people somehow find meaning by finding a deeper meaning in their suffering.

This thought comes to mind when we consider the stories that weave through sport, particularly the Olympics and the start of a new football season. Athletes undergo grueling training, face numerous challenges, and sometimes suffer defeat, yet they doggedly pursue victory because it gives them a deep sense of meaning. They dedicate their lives to perfecting their craft, often for a moment of glory. For us as spectators, these moments convey a sense of possibility and connection. We look to those athletes who embody our ideals, represent us as a city or a nation, and perhaps even inspire us to strive for excellence in our own lives. These great stories of triumph and defeat provide us with a canvas onto which we can project our own hopes, dreams, and fears.

But there’s a simpler reason sport is important. On the way to the first game of the season at Fleetwood, I was chatting to a good friend who runs an inner-city academy. He said that over the last decade there has been less laughter and less joy in lessons and classrooms. He puts this down to the rigour and structure imposed by governments, which have stifled the spontaneity and joy that should be part of education. That’s why sport is a crucial part of the solution; it provides an outlet and a chance to have fun. In an age of heightened social media anger and the relentless pursuit of success, we sometimes lose sight that having fun can be enough.

Beyond the spectacular performances of elite athletes, the joy of sport is often reflected in smaller but equally big victories. Moments like when the President of Botswana declared a national holiday to celebrate Letsile Tebogo’s victory in the 200m. Or when Cindy Ngamba, representing the Refugee Olympic Team, became the team’s first medallist in boxing and her victory was a glimmer of hope for millions. And there are more light-hearted moments too, like the women’s beach volleyball final when a tense exchange between the players was defused by the DJ playing the John Lennon song Imagine. The sugary lyrics sparked a mass karaoke voice in the crowd and the players couldn’t help but smile.

Sport provides a powerful framework for fun and meaning. Whether it’s the fleeting passion for the Olympics or an enduring commitment to Grimsby Town, our involvement reflects our deepest desires and aspirations. As the football season begins, there is a chance to use this opportunity to create new stories, find meaning in the shared sporting experience and, most importantly, remember that it’s all about having fun.