Understandings of play are frequently tied to a sense of instinctual gratification—a something that must be completed, that all humans, young or old, should or need to partake in. Indeed, for many, play is characterised as a unique activity that stands apart from the ordinary and every day. While such assessments prefigure a clear demarcation between the fun of play and the more laborious, boring aspects of profane life, what this distinction alludes to is a greater sense of the creativity (...) that underlies play. Drawing from a Lacanian perspective, the following chapter will determine that an essential aspect of play and sport is the creativity it provides, namely, by considering how the act of creativity is intricately tied to the very lack that constitutes the Lacanian subject. To do so, the concept of sublimation is used to consider how the codified rules and regulations that sport both asserts and requires renders apparent the importance of the limit. Rather than conceiving of this limit as a barrier to creativity, what is revealed in sublimation is how this limit proves constitutive of our very creativity. That is, the ability to sublimate—to creatively perform unique displays of physical or artistic expression— lies in the mundanity and utter importance of the playful and sporting activity and, more importantly, the inherent restrictions and constraints these activities impose. It is in accordance with the limit that one’s creativity can expose an emancipatory potential in the context of play and sport. (shrink)

The underlying contention guiding this collection is that psychoanalysis can provide a novel approach to theorising our investments in sport. When exploring, examining, discussing, and debating the fascination and frustrations that characterizes sport, what this collection will consider are the very ways in which we become “stuck” in sport. For us, getting “stuck” helpfully describes the degree to which one can both be interested in sport, following a particular team or training regularly, while also being frustrated, angered, and undermined by (...) sport (grievances, which, in most cases, in no way discount or prevent one’s very love of sport). What compounds this contradiction is that a psychoanalytic approach to sport does not necessarily provide or outline any answers to the problems of sport. Rather, we double-down on the fact there is no rational explanation as to why millions of people choose to partake in strenuous forms of physical exclusion for years on end, with the only reward being a medal or personal best for the lucky few—not to mention the multitudes who choose to watch these athletic spectacles. Certainly, this is not to say that sport does not have its explanations. We are all too familiar with the cliched responses and tired explanations: “it makes me feel good”, “it keeps me busy”, “it releases endorphins”, “I enjoy the social-side”, “my Dad followed this team, so, in a way, I’m continuing the tradition”. What goes amiss in such routine responses is why this specific activity—sport, in whatever form—is chosen? When so much of sport requires one to partake in choices that fundamentally affect one’s life, then we require a theoretical space in which we can begin to ask important questions of both sport and ourselves. On this basis, sport is not necessarily detached from our lives, a mere weekend past-time, separate from the world of work (although it can be described as such); instead, as this collection will assert, a psychoanalytic account of sport can allow us to question and explore what it is that makes us human and what is it about our inherent sociality that makes sport such an important part of so many lives. To do so, requires an investigation into the desires, fears, and fantasises that underscore the subject—the very phenomena that psychoanalysis seeks to examine. (shrink)