Published: 12:28 AM, 18 July 2026
Football, Fandom and Algorithmic Amplification
Afra Rahman
I opened X after the final whistle expecting tactical analysis, player ratings and thoughtful discussions about what decided the match.
Instead, my feed was flooded with posts declaring “Rigged FIFA,” “Cry more,” AI-generated conspiracy videos, referee decisions dissected frame by frame and endless Lionel Messi-versus-Cristiano Ronaldo debates.
Somewhere between the ninety minutes on the pitch and the endless hours online, football had stopped being just a sport. Football rivalry has always been part of the game’s appeal. From Brazil versus Argentina to Barcelona versus Real Madrid, these rivalries have long given football its colour, emotion and drama. Fans tease one another after painful defeats, celebrate unforgettable victories and passionately defend their favourite teams.
Increasingly, however, many supporters watch matches not only to celebrate their own teams but also to relish their rivals’ defeats—a phenomenon known as hate-watching. Missed penalties, controversial refereeing decisions and red cards become sources of entertainment. Psychologists describe this tendency as schadenfreude—the pleasure derived from another person’s misfortune. Research analysing 19 million tweets from 380 English Premier League matches found that social media amplifies both support and hostility during live games.
What has changed is not the rivalry.It is the algorithm. Today’s football conversations are shaped not only by what happens on the pitch but also by what social media platforms choose to show us. These platforms are designed to maximise engagement and few things keep users scrolling longer than outrage and controversy.
Communication scholars explain this through Agenda-Setting Theory, which argues that media influences what people consider important. Today, social media algorithms have joined traditional news organisations as powerful agenda setters, determining which football clips, debates and controversies dominate our feeds.
Agenda-setting influences what people talk about. Framing Theory explains how they talk about it.
Instead of conversations about tactical innovation, youth development or coaching philosophies, our timelines are increasingly dominated by VAR controversies, refereeing decisions and accusations of FIFA corruption. A referee’s decision can be framed either as “human error” or as “daylight robbery.” The incident remains exactly the same; only the interpretation changes.
Algorithms reinforce those interpretations through what communication researchers describe as the echo chamber or filter bubble effect. By learning what users like, share and engage with, platforms continuously recommend more of the same content. Brazil supporters are shown more pro-Brazil narratives, while Argentina supporters increasingly encounter posts defending Argentina. Gradually, both groups begin inhabiting different versions of the same football world.
This phenomenon becomes particularly visible in Bangladesh.
During every FIFA World Cup, streets are adorned with Brazilian and Argentine flags, university dormitories transform into arenas of friendly rivalry and Facebook timelines overflow with memes, banter and sarcastic posts.
There is nothing inherently wrong with that. Football has always been about identity, belonging and shared emotion. Supporting a team creates friendships, communities and memories that often outlast the tournament itself. The problem begins when algorithms reward the most extreme expressions of that passion. Moderate opinions rarely go viral. Outrage does.
Conspiracy theories, manipulated videos and clickbait headlines spread far more rapidly than thoughtful discussions because they provoke stronger emotional reactions. Gradually, losing a match no longer feels like watching a favourite team lose. It begins to feel like losing an argument, a reputation or even a part of one’s identity.
Sadly, the consequences do not always remain online. Bangladesh has witnessed reports of football-related clashes, assaults and even deaths linked to international football rivalries. Although such incidents remain relatively rare, they serve as a reminder that digital hostility can spill into real life. When online outrage becomes constant, the boundary between sport and identity begins to disappear.
Ironically, the players themselves often display the respect that many supporters fail to emulate. Footballers exchange shirts after fiercely contested matches. Rival captains embrace after the final whistle. Yet supporters sitting thousands of kilometres away continue arguing long after the players themselves have moved on.
Perhaps the real opponent is no longer the team wearing another jersey. It is the algorithm—and the media ecosystem that understands our emotions better than we understand them ourselves.
Football should unite strangers for ninety minutes, not divide neighbours for years. Rivalries are an essential part of what makes the sport beautiful, but they should never become more important than the people around us.
When the final whistle blows, the match should end. Respect should remain, memories should endure and life should move on. Yet in the age of algorithms, the game rarely ends. It is replayed, reframed and reignited until outrage becomes more valuable than sport itself.
Perhaps the greatest challenge facing modern football is no longer what happens on the pitch, but what happens in our feeds. The real victory lies not in winning an online argument, but in refusing to let an algorithm turn passion into permanent division.
Afra Rahman is a student of
the Department of Mass
Communication and Journalism
at Bangladesh University
of Professionals (BUP).
