When you are free and in a contemplative mood, having watched the Mexico Vs England World Cup match at 6 AM. The question, Why do people watch other people play? What is that is happening with sport? appears to be one of the least-examined habits of humanity, yet there is a massive business built on it. The curious mind of a marketer began formulating theories to answer the question, well aware that everything in life, including the consumer decision, is hardly logical.
It’s a fact that Millions of people sit for hours watching sport, watching other people run after a ball, hit a ball, throw a ball, kick a ball, catch a ball, or occasionally miss a ball or shuttle, or engage in other such activities.
The participants sweat, and the accompanying snacks most likely contribute to their weight gain. Yet most consider the experience worthwhile.

The question is simple. Why?
What makes a person who may not have ever held a tennis racket watch two strangers battle for four hours at Wimbledon? Why does someone who may have never touched a golf club willingly spend a Sunday watching a golfer walk across acres of manicured grass? Why do millions watch wrestling despite suspecting that the punches are as authentic as political promises?
To get the answers, I approached Vermajee, the mentor and a marketing consultant in his own right. And he looked at me and then, with the voice of a knowledgeable seer, said – People do not watch sport! They watch themselves.
That sounded philosophical, which is always a dangerous territory.
But once you start the conversation with Vermajee, you no longer control it. So he continued.
“Tell me, when people watch the French Open, what are they really watching?”
“Tennis.”
“No. They are watching perfection. They are watching a human being do something they themselves cannot do.”
That made sense.
Nobody watches a professional golfer because they plan to replicate a 300-yard drive on Monday morning. Nobody watches a Formula One race expecting to drive to the office at 280 kilometres an hour. And nobody watches an Olympic gymnast and thinks, ‘I should try that after lunch.’
People watch excellence.
The human species has always been fascinated by exceptional performance.
Thousands of years ago, villagers gathered to watch the strongest warrior.
Today, they gather around a television to watch the strongest athlete.
The venue has changed. The instinct has not.
But that alone does not explain everything about watching sports.
If excellence were enough, then why does the Nobel Prize ceremony not attract higher viewership than the World Cup? I threw a counterpunch, and that was a mistake.
Vermajee played along and smiled.
“Because sport offers something that achievement rarely does.”
“What?”
“Uncertainty.”
A Nobel Prize winner has already won.
A cricket match has not. A tennis final has not. A golfer standing over a four-foot putt has not.
Sport is excellence wrapped in suspense.
The ending remains unknown. Humans are addicted to unfinished stories.
That is why people binge-watch series.
That is why people follow elections and unpredictable polls.
That is why people slow down to look at traffic accidents, even though they have no intention of helping.
The brain likes uncertainty. It gives it something to work with.
Sport industrialises it. Every ball, every point, every lap creates a fresh possibility.
A billion-dollar entertainment industry has been built on the question: “What happens next?”
But that cannot be the complete answer.
Look at wrestling. It is the world’s most gloriously confusing sporting entertainment. Half the audience believes it is real. The other half knows it is scripted. However, both watch it with the same intensity.
Vermajee’s explained, “Wrestling proves that people are less interested in reality than they claim.”
People watch heroes, villains, revenge and everything that has the uncertainty of a drama.
The same ingredients that power mythology, cinema, politics, and corporate boardrooms.
Wrestling simply removes the inconvenience of subtlety. The villain announces he is evil. The hero announces he is righteous. Someone gets hit with a chair. The audience goes home satisfied.
Life rarely offers such clarity.
Then there is the element of national pride. It is perhaps the most powerful performance-enhancing substance available to spectators. The quality of viewing, its intensity and engagement can suddenly improve by 500% the moment your country is involved.
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Article first appeared in MXMINDIA.com on 8th July 2026
An ordinary game becomes a matter of national honour, including even the A-series cricket match that I just watched on TV where the field had no spectators.
Watching has the added advantage of commenting without committing. People who cannot locate half the participating nations on a map become instant experts on international sport. I just became aware of a country called Curacao a few hours back.
A missed catch ruins dinner. A last-minute goal improves family relationships. A victory achieved by strangers feels like a personal accomplishment. No other form of entertainment creates such irrational ownership.
And that, according to Vermajee, is the real answer.
People do not watch sport because of the sport. They watch aspiration, uncertainty, identity, excellence and the stories that evolve with every passing minute.
Most importantly, they watch emotion. The ball is merely a delivery mechanism. Whether it is cricket, football, tennis, golf, wrestling, kabaddi, or competitive cheese rolling down a hill, the format matters less than we think.
What matters is that for a few hours, someone else’s struggle becomes our own. We want someone to win and someone to lose. Someone else’s victory feels personal. Someone else’s defeat hurts.
And we willingly volunteer for this emotional roller coaster repeatedly- even after knowing that our viewing or not does not in any way impact results or our lives.
Vermajee summed it up best.
“Humans have always needed heroes. And sport gives us new ones every week.” Then he paused. “Besides, watching other people exercise is considerably more comfortable than exercising yourself.”
For once, I had no counterargument. I switched on the India-A match against Sri Lanka and realised the young superstar had again perished in the nineties, disappointing everyone. And then I made a note of the time for the India Vs South Africa Women’s World Cup match. Atleast I was a bit more aware of why I could be watching the match.

