Guilt Watching Football

They say in certain parts of the United States that there are two sports -- football and spring football.  Football means big dollars for those universities who play it well and has some, if difficult to define, value at schools whose players play before sparse crowds and have little if any chance to play professionally.  But football programs are not moneymakers at most schools; the stats suggest that at FBS schools only one in five make money.  And if you look at the costs involved in running a football program at the collegiate level, well, they are high.  At some colleges you might see more personnel attending to the football program -- which services say 100 kids -- than there are deans to administer to a student body that can number in the thousands if not more. 


The NFL, of course, is a big business. 


At colleges and in the pros, fans can turn out to tailgate, bond, have fun, eat, drink, cheer, what have you.  They devote entire weekends at times to doing just this.  People also bet on games, because the theory is that football is the easiest game to bet on -- there is a point spread.  In every other professional sport you get a set of numbers -- you have to bet $2200 on Manchester City to win $100 in a match versus Huddersfield, or $170 to win a $100 if you have the Phillies at home over the Marlins. 


Football players suffer horrific injuries.  Some end seasons; others can end careers.  Players play with injuries that might have a civilian walk with a limp or on medication for a month.  The long-term effects are stunning.  Pick up a magazine, a newspaper, a twitter feed, and almost every day you read a story about the long-term effects of the game.  From Ricky Dixon to George Andrie to Antwaan Randle-El to Kevin Turner to Andre Waters, the list goes on and on.  And atop that, the horrors that have persisted for former players and their families to collect funds from the class-action lawsuit settlement fund, whether it be callous, uniformed rejections of claims to unscrupulous lawyers trying to get a slice of the settlements. 


Yet, we still root.  We go to parades when our teams win, and we adjust our weekends to make sure we will be available to watch our team on Sundays or in the playoffs.  Is this a Christians versus Lions thing?  A gladiator thing?  What urges or needs are we satisfying if we feel compelled to watch young men -- most of whom are carrying way too much weight according to various healthy weight standards -- bash at each other week after week so that one team can get this oddly shaped ball across a goal line to rack up points?  Would we, ourselves, want to take the risks that for short-term glory and big bucks (and, yes, the average pro career is about 3 seasons and many players end up broke, depressed or divorced after their careers end) in exchange for long-term damage to our mental and physical well-being?  Would we want our friends or loved ones to do this? 


I am by no means an expert on how people make decisions, but how they make decisions fascinate me.  Some go by reason, some go by feel, others go by experience, and yet others go by impulse or emotion.  My sense is that people lie to themselves that their favorite players will be okay or that their fandom is justified because the players know and assume the risks and therefore if they get maimed or cognitively impaired, well, that comes with the territory and it's not their -- the fans' -- problem.  Or they just don't think about it, period.  But the evidence is there -- young men are getting hurt and impaired for the long-term.  That's not an opinion, that's a fact.


The pageantry, logos, uniforms, choreography and physical talent attract, tantalize and enchant the fans.  But I, for one, watch with great ambivalence and great reserve.  Sure, I like my hometown team, and I want them to beat the teams from other cities, especially those whose fans disrespect the area where I grew up (and there are many, as that is Philadelphia).  But I didn't feel the rush when the Eagles won that I felt in 2008 when the Phillies won the World Series or 1983 when the 76ers won the NBA title.  Perhaps it's because I like those teams and sports better; I went to those teams' games with my father, who died young.  Or perhaps it's because I don't like the fact that impressionable young men are being sacrificed for the glory of wealthy institutions who, in the end, treat them like commodities, especially at the college level, where the Lord-like coaches get paid huge sums while the players are subject to all sorts of ridiculous rules that virtually indenture them to a school with little compensation or recourse. 


The facts are there.  Young men are getting hurt, and far worse, impaired.  This game is hazardous to their health.  If football were a cigarette, it would come with a "black box" warning that exclaims that participating in it is hazardous to a player's health and could kill him.  Does football at all levels have a better lobbying group than the tobacco industry did?  Or does the general population just like football more?


We all should think about how we will feel about our society fifty years from now when more data emerges, data that suggests even more long-term danger for participants.  And, given the size and speed of the players, football fifty years from now, if it exists, will resemble a combination of Greco-Roman wrestling (only using the upper body), flag football and rugby -- with almost no hitting allowed. 


And, believe it or not, American civilization will survive and might even like the newly configured game. 


Because right now, it is hurting former players' quality of live, cutting lives short, and, yes, killing people.