Canada’s soccer spying scandal is a humiliating way to kick off Paris 2024

After finding out from French authorities that a staffer working for the women’s national soccer team had been taping opponent practices via drone, the Canadian Olympic Committee first acted with authority.

On Wednesday, the arrested official and his supervisor, an assistant coach with the team, were sent home from the Paris Games.

The obvious next step was to look at the person in charge – head coach Bev Priestman. But Priestman was ahead of her bosses. She’d already suspended herself.

“I have voluntarily decided to withdraw myself from coaching the match on Thursday in the spirit of accountability,” Priestman said via a release that was sent out by the COC.

Ah, the spirit of accountability. I guess that must be accountability’s cousin.

As far as the COC is concerned, that’s that. Please move along to modern pentathlon and rhythmic gymnastics. There’s nothing more to see here.

I guess these team functionaries only intended to shoot some New Zealand pleasure practice, the sort meant to be enjoyed at home with family.

Here’s COC CEO David Shoemaker’s rationale for clipping two privates and leaving the general in charge:

“At the end of the day, the drone footage related to the filming of two New Zealand practices and it remained in the hands of the pilot of the drone and the advantage that, I guess, was intended to be obtained was not obtained, at least to the best of our ability to ascertain,” Shoemaker said. “I was persuaded by the fact that Bev Priestman had no involvement, no knowledge of the incident.”

I don’t intend to turn to a life of crime, but if I heard that David Shoemaker had switched careers and become a prosecuting attorney, I might consider it.

It beggars belief that two coaches are fiddling with the rules in a highly organized fashion – who brings a drone to the Olympics? – but that no one else on the team knew it was happening.

How did they intend to pass on this information? Claim they heard it from a burning soccer ball?

Earlier in the day, a reporter at Canadian practice in Saint-Étienne put it to Priestman straight – “Did you know anything about [the spying]?”

The 85-second word salad that followed contained just about every word in the English language, except the one Priestman needed to say – ‘No.’

She didn’t outright deny it. She did say the word “values” a lot. “Leadership” was in there a few times. Hours later, Shoemaker would pick up where Priestman left off. She couldn’t have done it because she didn’t. That seems to be the theory.

Even still, Shoemaker couldn’t fully commit to the bit. When asked whether this behaviour taints the soccer team’s gold medal in the previous Summer Games, he waffled so hard he could open a Hut.

“I must say, because I was there, nothing about what I’ve heard today tarnishes the incredible gold medal we won in Tokyo …” – then, in a lower register – “… we might in the future.”

This is the sort of thing we have come to expect from the Canadian sports establishment – a lot of loud talk about the spirit of various things, but no follow-through when something goes wrong. Then it’s time to hide.

If we weren’t all Canadian, it’d be hilarious. But we’re the ones who have to explain to other countries why we are this way. They all cheat, too, but when they’re caught, they have the decency to issue flat denials.

Only Canada feels the need to be transparent about its opacity. Only this country treats its several million stakeholders – you and I – like we’re complete dopes.

If you’re going to throw around words like “accountability” and “leadership,” then you have to do those things, too.

This isn’t the 48th-ranked speed walker in the world getting caught taking banned cold medication. This is a major Canadian team, an Olympic defending champion, caught bright-red-handed trying to twist results in their favour. This is a five-alarm scandal.

The consequence should be obvious – everyone in charge who was anywhere near this has to go. It’s not about what everyone knew when or who has the authority to do what. It’s about ethics. The soccer team lost sight of its own. That should have consequences.

In many other countries, Priestman would have quit as a matter of principle. She’s right about one thing – the buck stops with her. Except she and her temporary bosses at the COC just let it drift on by.

Whatever this team does now is put in the shade by what’s happened. If they win, they’re suspect. If they lose, then maybe they were a drone-dependent paper tiger. There is no succeeding for the soccer team in Paris. All they have to look forward to is a lot of hard questions.

Bigger picture, something is clearly amiss in the Canadian soccer set-up.

FIFA thinks so – it is investigating everyone involved. Canada Soccer thinks so as well. It has announced an independent third-party investigation of the matter.

The only people acting like this isn’t that big a deal are the ones who should care most – Canada’s Olympic bosses.

Flying that drone didn’t just make the soccer team look ridiculous. It makes Canada look like a bunch of hypocrites. We’re the ones who are always banging on about fair play. And then this.

Bad enough that they did it. But to pull such a high-risk, zero-reward stunt in the days before the Games start, ensuring that any screw-up would become international news, is unforgivable. It’s like they say – it’s not the crime, it’s the stupidity.

More than the incident itself, the way it’s being handled reveals a misapprehension in Canada’s Olympic thinking.

Priestman and the COC seem to think this is primarily a sports event, and that saying sorry is enough.

It isn’t and it’s not. This is a sensitive, crucial, biennial community outreach. It’s where Canada goes to show our international colleagues what we are all about.

Right now, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, Canada is not just a bunch of low-aspiration cheaters.

We’re also the sort of saps who don’t know how to handle a problem we created for ourselves.