August is finally here, which begs one very important question: Are you ready for some football?
Ready or not, pigskins are about to fly. The National Football League’s lockout has ended, training camps have opened, and the exhibition season begins with a slate of games on August 11. Meanwhile, the NCAA is preparing to kick off its regular season football schedule on September 1.
The men may be ready for some football, but wives and girlfriends across the nation are asking another question: Why do men like this sport so much? (At least that’s what my wife is asking, anyway.) Well, I’ve given it some thought, and come up with some answers, which we’ll get to in a moment.
First, understand this: football is America’s new national pastime. Sure, we still love our old national pastime, baseball. But football is the new king of sports. USA Today reports that Pro football games marked eight of last year’s top 10 television programs. Football is flat-out whipping every other American sport like a rented mule. The gridiron game also dominates sports talk radio. We just passed Major League Baseball’s July 31 trading deadline and are entering the home stretch in several pennant races, but talk show hosts can’t quit talking football. The networks aren’t stupid: they’ve done the research and know football generates ratings.
Why the fascination with football? We love the game for the many reasons, including the following.
We can watch the entire season.
Major League Baseball teams play 162 games every season. The average MLB game lasts approximately three hours, so watching every game would require an annual investment of approximately 486 hours. And that doesn’t include spring training or playoff games. Sure, some men are willing to make that kind of sacrifice. Those are the same guys who also have a hard time getting a girlfriend.
The NBA and the NHL both maintain 82 game schedules, not including an extensive four-round best-of-seven playoff format that could extend the season by as much as 28 games. Watching every single one of those games requires tying up two or three evenings a week for months on end.
On the other hand, the NFL maintains a reasonable 16-game schedule. Major college football programs play a 12-game regular season schedule. Even throwing in playoff and bowl games, you realistically can watch every snap of your favorite team’s season by committing just one afternoon per week for approximately four months. That’s doable.
As a bonus, you’ll still have time left to actually have a life.
We can relate to the players.
Football has a place for men of all shapes, sizes and stations in life. Review any NFL or D-1 college football roster, and you’ll find born-again Christians from the Bible Belt lining up beside gangbangers from the inner city. You’ve got Ivy League grads squaring off against men who used to stock grocery store shelves. (Kurt Warner still is my favorite player.) Linemen usually are wide and tall; wide receivers and defensive backs are skinny; running backs can be short and squat. No matter what you look like or where you come from, football’s got a position for you.
Football also is the most integrated sport. American professional sports remind me of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Some black sports fans complain that Major League Baseball and the National Hockey League are too white. Some rural sports fans believe the National Basketball Association is too urban and too black. But sports fans of all classes and colors have found that the NFL and its NCAA counterpart are just right.
We love the big hits.
Some Christians criticize football because they believe it’s too violent. I’d be lying if I told you big hits aren’t part of the game’s appeal. Men like to see other men get the snot knocked out of them – literally. It’s why we like boxing, wrestling, martial arts and action heroes. Hey, even the Apostle Paul used wrestling and boxing analogies in his epistles.
Besides, the violence on the gridiron isn’t exactly the equivalent of the gladiatorial contests of ancient Rome. Football fans don’t want to see members of the opposing team get their heads chopped off or be maimed by wild beasts. Nothing beats seeing a wide receiver get blasted after catching a pass in the middle of the field, only to have him jump right back up and signal “first down!”
In recent years, the NFL and the NCAA have taken steps to try to protect players from injury while maintaining the integrity of the game. These efforts generally have been applauded. Only a fool wants to see another man get hurt. Knocked down, sure: knocked out, no.
We love the combination of strategy and athletic prowess.
Men typically enjoy games and events that employ strategy. That’s why we like studying military history and playing chess. All professional sports include some level of strategy, but football has the most. Teams have offensive and defensive playbooks filled with dozens of strategies for either scoring touchdowns or shoving the ball down the opposing team’s throat. On every play, each of the 11 players on both sides of the ball has a specific assignment. If players execute those assignments perfectly, the result could be a touchdown for the offense or a turnover for the defense.
Of course, most of the time players don’t execute their assignments perfectly. That’s when athletic prowess comes in handy. Nothing beats watching Michael Vick slither out of a lineman’s grasp and dash for a first down, or seeing Peyton Manning sling it 60 yards for a touchdown. We admire that athletic prowess because most men have played football at some level – even if it was just in the backyard – and know it isn’t nearly as easy as the pros make it look.
Writing this makes me nostalgic for the days of Detroit Lions running back Barry Sanders. I loved watching him play. Many times it looked as if he would be tackled in the backfield. Then he’d put on a little juke move, and the defense would be grasping at air as Sanders sailed downfield for a big gain. Former St. Louis Rams running back Marshall Faulk was the same way: he could make guys miss like no one else. He left fans with their mouths agape, asking “How did he do that?!”
Hey, I’m ready for some football!