Three deaths among World Cup journalists shock the press in Qatar. A ruthless overhaul has crept into the coverage of the tournament, creating a dangerous maelstrom. A story about intoxication, collapse and the unhealthy meritocracy.
“Three weeks with little sleep, high stress and a lot of work have made my body go limp,” US journalist Grant Wahl wrote in his World Cup blog early last week, “what started out as a cold has turned into a cold developed into something more serious on the night of the round of 16 between the USA and the Netherlands. (…) Now I’ve been on antibiotics and (…) I’m feeling a bit better. But still: No bueno!”. choice continues. According to his own statements, he received medical treatment twice. He collapses early on Saturday in the quarter-final game between Argentina and the Netherlands. Any help comes too late. The reporter dies. The cause of death is still unclear.
Following the worst possible misfortune, which the authors of this text observe from just a few meters away, speechlessness prevails. How could that happen? It is a moment in which a horrified look back at the past few weeks at the World Cup shows how much a way of working has crept into the minds of many journalists in Doha that does not tolerate rest and, in most cases, does not make it possible at all. This has to do with the tournament, the kick-off times and the working conditions, which at first glance seem ideal, but expose the body to constant and abrupt changes in temperature. This has to do with the rush in the tournament as much as with the nerve-wracking volume that cannot be escaped.
The tight schedule of the tournament with four games per day in the group phase, the kick-off times of the late games at 10 p.m. local time, which are pleasant for the European market but challenging on site, pull the authors into an irrational, black tunnel in which it is only about the paths, the games, the texts, the press conferences and a thousand other subjects. There was also too much stress at the 2010, 14, or 18 World Cups – but unlike previous tournaments, in Qatar during the preliminary round it’s possible to watch two, maybe even more games a day. A privilege, but also a problem.
Just before the collapse
Short ways become long, very long ways. From Al Thumama to Lusail, from the media center out into the desert to Al Bayt and back around 3am local time. There is always something to see, to tell, to talk about. Four, five hours of sleep and on. Agency journalists talk about their daily work at games and press conferences. “In other tournaments,” says one, “each of us played maybe six games, now we all come up with clearly double-digit numbers.”
The feeling of having everything covered never arises. There’s always something new happening, you’re never really “done” with your work. An almost toxic productivity sets in, sucking the authors into the black tunnel from which there is no escape. It goes like this for three weeks at a time. Write the first text at breakfast. Take a short shower. Get out into the world, conduct interviews, make observations, do research. Maybe write another text around noon because FIFA boss Infantino is going crazy again. In the evening in some stadium, from which one no longer remembers which games one has already watched there. Then in the mixed zone or at the press conference. Until late at night. Somehow home. The game report is waiting there. Good night.
All of this confuses the authors and robs them of their sleep. Nibbles more and more on the psyche. Makes her more irritable. more vulnerable. After several short nights in a row and the subsequent DFB-Aus, which is being worked on in Doha until half past five in the morning, one of the authors is on the verge of collapse the next day. Sweats, flickering before the eyes, panic. The cycle is in the bucket, too little food and energy in the system. Walking is extremely difficult, but he’s already sitting in the stadium for the next game. Somehow he sneaks into the subway. Days later, the limbs turn into rubber again and again.
Why only this spiral of stress?
No break. There’s always something to do. Much of this is self-imposed. The intoxication of the next story. The World Cup will be a four-week intensification of all unhealthy parts of the meritocracy that are rampant in journalism. Research and write down everything faster and faster. A comment here, an analysis there. Satisfy the greed. In Qatar, writers are caught up in this mindset. Escape impossible. It’s interesting how firmly anchored it is: family, friends and colleagues warn that you shouldn’t overwork yourself. But you do it anyway. Just don’t listen to the advice that you would give the other way around and think it’s right and important. Just why? Because the desolation of the glittering facades of Doha doesn’t offer any variety anyway? Because performance counts as confirmation and self-esteem often results from work?
Working a lot and so-called stress resistance enjoy collective acceptance. You can really make a name for yourself with this. The work in Qatar clearly shows how unhealthy that is. When the DFB spread the news of Oliver Bierhoff’s departure after South Korea’s round of 16 against Brazil, midnight was approaching in Doha. Because the rhythm is completely destroyed anyway, that is still being processed. A colleague says that he only dictates his private messages into the phone. He has no more signs in himself.
It only cooled down last Saturday. Only 25 degrees left. Before it is up to 32 degrees warm. In the cooled down stadiums, the temperature drops below 20 degrees, in the air-conditioned rooms of the media center and the shuttle buses, in which the photo colleagues edit their pictures, it shivers. Then again 25 degrees at 3 a.m., the way to the subway, cold, warm. A constant change. The fact that this burden takes on completely different dimensions in the summer and that the suffering of the migrant workers and their susceptibility to overwork, exhaustion accidents or heart muscle inflammation must be enormous is another topic.
No escape, no rest
Journalists cough in the elevators of the media hotels, drag themselves to breakfast with the last of their strength or go to the hospital with a fever. One of them keeps telling me how he sat in his room for days. With a bad cold, with fruit and water and feverish eyes. People are testing for Covid everywhere, but the virus is little present despite the measures that have been completely lifted in Doha. It is the exhaustion, the periods of weakness caused by the air conditioning and the lack of sleep and restlessness that dominate in Doha.
In the eye of the tournament, sucked into the deep black tunnel, one rarely manages to step back. Ever faster, ever more and ever louder. Because no matter whether in the stadium or in the malls of the city, the music bangs, the lights bang directly into the exhausted bones. Crowded metros or buses, crowds of people, banging boxes that unleash the worst party hits on the body and mind in a continuous loop. It rattles so loudly in the arenas that before the games kick off, it’s impossible to think clearly.
Roger Pearce, technical director of British TV broadcaster ITV Sport, died on November 21 during the World Cup. Photojournalist Khalid al-Misslam from the Qatari news channel Al-Kass also died on Saturday. Exact information about the cause of death is not yet available. If overhaul played a role, it would come as no surprise to journalists in Doha. No escape. No rest. Because it always goes on. Because the adrenaline has long since taken over the body – until it collapses.