What disappears in translation is not the words. It is the meaning.
A North African coach gives a post-match press conference in Arabic. The translator condenses it for the European press. The condensed version is what gets quoted. The condensed version is then summarised by the original journalist, who has never seen the full Arabic. The summary is what readers consume.
By the time the quote reaches print, three layers of mediation have removed everything that made the original interesting. The nuance is gone. The cadence is gone. The cultural register is gone. What remains is a flat, declarative statement that the coach may not even recognise as his own.
This is not a hypothetical. This is how nearly every quote from an Arabic-speaking football figure reaches English-language audiences.
The result is a press that consistently misreads North African football culture. Coaches are described as defensive when they were being modest. Coaches are described as boastful when they were being polite. Coaches are described as evasive when they were being precise.
The fix is not complicated. It is bilingual journalists. It is journalists who can hear the Arabic and translate the meaning, not the literal words. There are not enough of them, and the European press is not in a hurry to hire more.
Until then, the misreadings will continue, and they will be presented as the truth.