Many metaphors have been employed in the epic debate between determinists and indeterminists, compatibilists and free willists, Calvinists and Arminians. Years ago I began conceiving of these two pictures as analogous to the difference between a game of foosball and football. If you imagine that the foosmen are conscious, foosball is an apt picture of the compatibilist picture. The foosmen are controlled by forces beyond them — “their feet can’t touch the ground” —, but their desires pass through them and move them. Like foosball, football is constrained by rules, boundaries, and conditions beyond the players’ control. But, by contrast, within those bounds, the players have the freedom to dig in their cleats, to dribble or pass, to turn right or left. Most important to the comparison, I take it as revelatory that God chose to win the “game” by descending and playing amongst us. The incarnation, and God’s direct appeal to us as fellow sons of men, makes so much more sense if we are not controlled from outside. In honor of the 2026 World Cup, for your consideration, “Foosball or Football“.

#Foosball or Football

[Intro]
A vinyl laminate arena
Lit by basement fluorescents
Stick figures, impaled mannequins
Two players, lords of men

On a pitch out in the open air
At twilight under floodlights
Cut grass and studded cleats 
Two teams, fallen sons of men

Two matches and two goals
It’s a game of life or sudden death
Real Vida verse the Fates
Time to choose you this day

Two ways to play the game
Rules made and bounds laid
Lace up and field the question
Which kind of game are we in?

---
[Verse 1 — Foosball]
Foosmen all look center forward
Determination on their painted faces
Positions and teams already fated
In wanton chests they feel desires
Nerves of steel move them like wires
Look up, upside down, spin around
Their boots can’t touch the ground
Moving left or right, they play a part
Each little figure locked into the plot
Game is tied five points to five, but
It was decided long before this bout

---
[Pre-Chorus]
Foosball only goes when the hand says so
If a lucky shot was set in motion long ago
But under the bright lights, one has to ask

---
[Chorus]
Foosball or football?
Was it he or we who tripped and fell?
What kind of God designed this epic game?
Foosball or football?
He could, but would he win from above?
Or step in and play for the love of the game?
Mud and blood in the wind and the rain
Or are both these games all the same?

---
[Verse 2 — Football]
Footballers hear the whistle howl
It looked bright but a decisive foul
From the start we knew the rules 
But we kept missing all the goals
Timeout: rain delay, a fresh start
Then players clumped and parked
Timeout: Coach spread us all out
Some freed agents took the field
Timeout: Coach drew up the plays
Rotating captains each had their days
Time and again we gave up the turf
And the Fates were killing us, a rout

[Chorus]
Foosball or football?
What kind of God designed this epic game?
Coach taught us, led us, helped our chances
He let us make ten thousand choices
Foosball or football?
Blocked, injured, tackled, elbowed
Dribble, pass, kick, hustle, and play
Cleats dug in, we went our own way
This is football!

[Verse 3]
Down and out, kick-off, second half
A new substitute born for this game
The Son of God and a Son of Man
He called out each and every name
Played like he’d written all the rules
He juked the fools and rebel ghouls
Rall-eed and lifted up the bruised
Called us to leave it all on the field
He crossed to poor forgotten souls
And we found our footing in our roles

---
[Bridge]
But the crowd booed the reversal
The throng cheered for the Fatal
Silencing the Real Vida faithful
Frenzied hooligans demand blood
Ole ole, ole, death they say
The fans sway and authorities delay
By end of day, the referees give in
The whistle blew, the fix was in
A scapegoat, a harsh red card

---
[Verse 4]
Betrayed, He took the foul, didn’t gainsay
Lights out, captain of the team sent away
Three nights, two games, we were in disarray
Wondering how we’d face the next day 

Then the tunnel opened
And the boots came back on the grass
And the madding crowd could not explain it
He didn’t quit, invited us to the banquet
He didn’t win from the heavens above us
He spoke to us and won for us beside us
He didn’t just spin us from a safe distance
Played every minute to win it

---
[Final Chorus]
Foosball or football?
Now we know which kind of God is there
Surely He would have won either way
But He’s not just the hand above the table
He wore our jersey, gave it all for the rabble
Foosball or football?
He won by being in the game (always was)
He took the red card and the blame
He walked the tunnel, defeated death
This game will never be the same
Neither will we
Neither will we

---
[Outro]
There’s a table in the basement
With little plastic men
And a pitch out in the open
Where a new season began
We’ve seen the star player
We’re members of the team
And we’ve got the Spirit within
There are no byes or ties, suit up
Each of us must face our Fate
Life or death, choose you this day