Football. As American as apple pie, pickup trucks, misogyny, violence, toxic masculinity and I seem to be doing a bad job of defending this sport right off the bat. See? I just used a baseball idiom to talk about football. I'll start again.
Football. And by that I mean the American version--not Futbol, or soccer, which I will grudgingly admit is far more popular globally. Neither do I mean Australian Rules Football, or Canadian Football, or Foosball for that matter. I mean football. Friday night lights football. Square-jawed BMOC quarterback football. Cheerleaders, striped shirt referees, touchdowns, the whole bit.
I realize that there's a lot to criticize about the game and the culture that has grown up around it. I am very aware of the dangers of chronic traumatic encephalopathy (known as CTE); of bone and muscle injuries; of corruption in the NCAA and even in high schools; of the illegal gambling that goes on regarding the game; of the propensity of NFL players to be domestic abusers and the further propensity for the league and for America to ignore those cases when the man in question is a quality player; of homophobia in those who play the game; of horribly wrongheaded messages sent directly to young men and indirectly to young women as a result of football culture--I am aware of all this and much, much more that surrounds the sport.
I nevertheless champion it.
Injuries are part of what makes football great. I realize how that sounds. I myself have been injured playing--in fact, I have scar tissue on my cerebral cortex (discovered when I had an MS scare a few years ago) due to a particularly nasty concussion I suffered, one which caused me to believe I was engaged to Kathleen Turner instead of to my lovely and much superior wife, Sue. I have witnessed broken bones, torn ligaments and tendons, blown out knees, and in one case, an injury to a player so severe it resulted in the eventual amputation of the young man's lower leg. I nevertheless remain in support of the game. It is because of these dangers--more significant than in most other sports, but still much less so than in, say, riding a bike on city streets--that the sport has value. Facing danger--real, actual danger that will result in physical pain and perhaps physical injury--and living through it is important. Bravery, at its most basic level, means placing one's body in peril because of a need. Yes, the need here is artificial--the advancement of an inflated pig's bladder over a chalk line--but the danger is real. Facing that danger and deciding to throw one's body into it is a huge step, one that can transform an individual. Despite all the possibility for injury--and make no mistake, significant precautions are taken to mitigate this risk--I still champion the sport.
As to the culture around football, I maintain that all the negativity and poison is not part of the game. It simply is not--we have allowed it grow, and that is unacceptable. But there is nothing about the game of football that demands those who play it, coach it, watch it, or officiate it become monsters. I cannot deny that this has happened: I would have to be blind to not see that. And though I could point out many, many instances of professional players who have set up foundations to help disadvantaged youth, or who have donated time and money to the underprivileged, or of dead-end lives that were saved from the sport and exposure to it, I will agree that there is far, far too much toxicity and cultural poison seeping into the game. I maintain that this need not be, however. Yes, there is a bit of the "no true Scotsman" fallacy lurking around my argument, but make no mistake: I am not saying those players who engage in evil behaviors are NOT true football players. I am saying this is need not be inimical to the game itself. I am saying that football can teach bravery, as I have shown above, as well as it can teach teamwork, dedication, selflessness, and yes, mercy and compassion. The structure of the game is inherently different from, say, baseball: in the latter sport, each player has a chance to play individually at the plate. He or she is part of a team, but is playing individually. In football, each and every play depends on eleven players doing his or her job well. It may appear that the quarterback or ballcarrier is the "star" of the team, but each and every player on each and every play has a job to do, often overlooked. I'm reminded of the feeling I had playing center in college: blocking an opponent into the turf so hard and so well that chunks of grass and sod embedded themselves in my face mask, then picking myself up from the ground and seeing through the green and brown debris in my mask that we had scored. I recall being proud of my contribution to the effort, despite not being the ballcarrier, not receiving any statistics nor public recognition for my efforts. It was more than enough to know I had helped spring Brian into the end zone. I'd done my job, and done it well, and that was all that mattered.
Football can teach mercy and compassion. When our team is beating an opponent and beating them soundly, players I coach see me pull back on the reins, as it were, so as not to embarrass the opponent unduly. Victory need not be an exercise in humiliation, and players can learn that an opponent is not an enemy. People working towards a different goal (or goal line) should be opposed, but not demonized nor crushed. Football can teach that. It can teach respect for an opponent even while working in opposition to him--someone who showed up deserves respect, even if they showed up to block you. Football can teach compassion when an opponent is injured--we all stop the game to tend to the injured player, and reflect on our knees that no one is here to permanently hurt another person. It sometimes happens, but we do not wish it upon our opponent. When it does, we all recognize the game is small compared to another person's well-being.
Football can be all these things and more. It need not be the home of brutish, boorish, sadistic men who carry their aggression off the field and into their homes. Football can teach so much--and yes, it is the only sport and only activity that can teach all these things together. You'll notice I did not say football can teach a boy how to be a man, because the lessons football can teach--bravery, teamwork, dedication, selflessness, compassion, and mercy--are sex/gender neutral.
I've just ended another season of football with my freshman team at West Ranch. As always, each season is a lifetime. I met the boys for the first time in June, and am saying goodbye to them as players in late October. Less than five months, and yet I've come to know them and love them in some ways better than a parent. We've been through danger, disappointment, and defeat together, and enjoyed victories both collective and individual too numerous and intimate to explain. We've shared a season of football together, and no matter what their futures bring, I know that the lessons learned from the gridiron will help guide them in the years to come.
Vale, mi amicis.
Be seeing you!
Football. And by that I mean the American version--not Futbol, or soccer, which I will grudgingly admit is far more popular globally. Neither do I mean Australian Rules Football, or Canadian Football, or Foosball for that matter. I mean football. Friday night lights football. Square-jawed BMOC quarterback football. Cheerleaders, striped shirt referees, touchdowns, the whole bit.
I realize that there's a lot to criticize about the game and the culture that has grown up around it. I am very aware of the dangers of chronic traumatic encephalopathy (known as CTE); of bone and muscle injuries; of corruption in the NCAA and even in high schools; of the illegal gambling that goes on regarding the game; of the propensity of NFL players to be domestic abusers and the further propensity for the league and for America to ignore those cases when the man in question is a quality player; of homophobia in those who play the game; of horribly wrongheaded messages sent directly to young men and indirectly to young women as a result of football culture--I am aware of all this and much, much more that surrounds the sport.
I nevertheless champion it.
Injuries are part of what makes football great. I realize how that sounds. I myself have been injured playing--in fact, I have scar tissue on my cerebral cortex (discovered when I had an MS scare a few years ago) due to a particularly nasty concussion I suffered, one which caused me to believe I was engaged to Kathleen Turner instead of to my lovely and much superior wife, Sue. I have witnessed broken bones, torn ligaments and tendons, blown out knees, and in one case, an injury to a player so severe it resulted in the eventual amputation of the young man's lower leg. I nevertheless remain in support of the game. It is because of these dangers--more significant than in most other sports, but still much less so than in, say, riding a bike on city streets--that the sport has value. Facing danger--real, actual danger that will result in physical pain and perhaps physical injury--and living through it is important. Bravery, at its most basic level, means placing one's body in peril because of a need. Yes, the need here is artificial--the advancement of an inflated pig's bladder over a chalk line--but the danger is real. Facing that danger and deciding to throw one's body into it is a huge step, one that can transform an individual. Despite all the possibility for injury--and make no mistake, significant precautions are taken to mitigate this risk--I still champion the sport.
As to the culture around football, I maintain that all the negativity and poison is not part of the game. It simply is not--we have allowed it grow, and that is unacceptable. But there is nothing about the game of football that demands those who play it, coach it, watch it, or officiate it become monsters. I cannot deny that this has happened: I would have to be blind to not see that. And though I could point out many, many instances of professional players who have set up foundations to help disadvantaged youth, or who have donated time and money to the underprivileged, or of dead-end lives that were saved from the sport and exposure to it, I will agree that there is far, far too much toxicity and cultural poison seeping into the game. I maintain that this need not be, however. Yes, there is a bit of the "no true Scotsman" fallacy lurking around my argument, but make no mistake: I am not saying those players who engage in evil behaviors are NOT true football players. I am saying this is need not be inimical to the game itself. I am saying that football can teach bravery, as I have shown above, as well as it can teach teamwork, dedication, selflessness, and yes, mercy and compassion. The structure of the game is inherently different from, say, baseball: in the latter sport, each player has a chance to play individually at the plate. He or she is part of a team, but is playing individually. In football, each and every play depends on eleven players doing his or her job well. It may appear that the quarterback or ballcarrier is the "star" of the team, but each and every player on each and every play has a job to do, often overlooked. I'm reminded of the feeling I had playing center in college: blocking an opponent into the turf so hard and so well that chunks of grass and sod embedded themselves in my face mask, then picking myself up from the ground and seeing through the green and brown debris in my mask that we had scored. I recall being proud of my contribution to the effort, despite not being the ballcarrier, not receiving any statistics nor public recognition for my efforts. It was more than enough to know I had helped spring Brian into the end zone. I'd done my job, and done it well, and that was all that mattered.
Football can teach mercy and compassion. When our team is beating an opponent and beating them soundly, players I coach see me pull back on the reins, as it were, so as not to embarrass the opponent unduly. Victory need not be an exercise in humiliation, and players can learn that an opponent is not an enemy. People working towards a different goal (or goal line) should be opposed, but not demonized nor crushed. Football can teach that. It can teach respect for an opponent even while working in opposition to him--someone who showed up deserves respect, even if they showed up to block you. Football can teach compassion when an opponent is injured--we all stop the game to tend to the injured player, and reflect on our knees that no one is here to permanently hurt another person. It sometimes happens, but we do not wish it upon our opponent. When it does, we all recognize the game is small compared to another person's well-being.
Football can be all these things and more. It need not be the home of brutish, boorish, sadistic men who carry their aggression off the field and into their homes. Football can teach so much--and yes, it is the only sport and only activity that can teach all these things together. You'll notice I did not say football can teach a boy how to be a man, because the lessons football can teach--bravery, teamwork, dedication, selflessness, compassion, and mercy--are sex/gender neutral.
I've just ended another season of football with my freshman team at West Ranch. As always, each season is a lifetime. I met the boys for the first time in June, and am saying goodbye to them as players in late October. Less than five months, and yet I've come to know them and love them in some ways better than a parent. We've been through danger, disappointment, and defeat together, and enjoyed victories both collective and individual too numerous and intimate to explain. We've shared a season of football together, and no matter what their futures bring, I know that the lessons learned from the gridiron will help guide them in the years to come.
Vale, mi amicis.
Be seeing you!
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