Despite having already bought a ticket, part of the crowd prefers to follow the game on a phone screen, a behaviour explained by very concrete motivations.
Attending a live match delivers sensations no screen can replace: the atmosphere of the chants, the roar after a goal, the closeness to the pitch. Yet in the stands, it is not unusual to see spectators with their eyes glued to their smartphones. This behaviour, which may seem paradoxical for someone who has paid for their seat, in fact responds to several logics.
The first is visibility. From certain seats, particularly in the corners or on the side stands, part of the play can escape the eye. A spectator who cannot clearly see a decisive action, or who sits at a distance from a particular sector, may turn to his phone to benefit from a replay or a fuller view. The phone then becomes a complement rather than a substitute.
The second reason is information. In a stadium, the circulation of news remains uneven. Scoreboards do not always display results from other fixtures, and public address announcements are sometimes drowned out by the crowd. Following another match, a score or statistics in parallel allows some supporters to keep an overall picture, especially when the sporting stakes go beyond the single match they are attending.
The social dimension also plays a role. For part of the crowd, the phone serves to share the moment: sending a photo to a loved one who is absent, chatting with friends scattered around the stadium, or commenting on the match live on social networks. The smartphone becomes an extension of the conviviality of the match rather than a distraction that opposes it.
Finally, this should no doubt be seen as an evolution in sports consumption habits. Spectators are now accustomed to having permanent access to a multitude of data streams. The stadium is not immune to this logic, and some supporters naturally combine physical presence with digital tracking.
Organisers, for their part, seek to reconcile these practices with the collective experience. Between attachment to the fervour of the stands and the reality of connected habits, the phone has established itself as an object that is both troublesome and useful, and its place in stadiums continues to be debated.
The first is visibility. From certain seats, particularly in the corners or on the side stands, part of the play can escape the eye. A spectator who cannot clearly see a decisive action, or who sits at a distance from a particular sector, may turn to his phone to benefit from a replay or a fuller view. The phone then becomes a complement rather than a substitute.
The second reason is information. In a stadium, the circulation of news remains uneven. Scoreboards do not always display results from other fixtures, and public address announcements are sometimes drowned out by the crowd. Following another match, a score or statistics in parallel allows some supporters to keep an overall picture, especially when the sporting stakes go beyond the single match they are attending.
The social dimension also plays a role. For part of the crowd, the phone serves to share the moment: sending a photo to a loved one who is absent, chatting with friends scattered around the stadium, or commenting on the match live on social networks. The smartphone becomes an extension of the conviviality of the match rather than a distraction that opposes it.
Finally, this should no doubt be seen as an evolution in sports consumption habits. Spectators are now accustomed to having permanent access to a multitude of data streams. The stadium is not immune to this logic, and some supporters naturally combine physical presence with digital tracking.
Organisers, for their part, seek to reconcile these practices with the collective experience. Between attachment to the fervour of the stands and the reality of connected habits, the phone has established itself as an object that is both troublesome and useful, and its place in stadiums continues to be debated.
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Source: Ouest-France