When I was young, and waiting all week to watch a television show on one of the five stations we had back then, I would go into my parents room and ask how much time was left in the football game they were watching. I could never understand how two minutes left on the clock could stretch out long enough to preempt my entire program.
I hated football. To me, it was just another boring, senseless thing adults did, and the kids that liked football were no friends of mine.
In high school, football was simply not on my radar. While the jocks were getting sweaty, we were getting high.
I started to take an interest in football in college, when a Bears game meant another excuse for partying. Doing bongs, drinking beer, and eating pizza with a group of friends was a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
My wife has watched football all her life. She talks often about sitting with her much older brother-in-law, who explained to her the nuances of the game.
Much of our marriage has been spent yelling at the TV screen, cursing the owners, the coaches, the quarterbacks, and the referees, not necessarily in that order.
One thing that has made watching the Bears games bearable, was turning the sound on the TV off, and listening to the home team radio broadcast. For many years we were treated to the play call of Wayne Larrivee (who traitorously moved to Green Bay), and commentary by Hub Arkush (who is still involved in Chicago sports publishing).
They were replaced by the young team of Jeff Joniak (a recognized name in Chicago sports broadcasting) and Tom Thayer (center for the Superbowl winning '85 Bears). Each week, Joniak's announcing got stronger, and Thayer's analysis more insightful.
We have listened to many games on autumn drives to small-town festivals. We listened as my wife and I sat at a picnic table, while our boys played in a natural spring (and our son Nik floated a very indignant frog down the creek in a plastic toy boat).
We listened to the game one time, on the way back home from a bluegrass show in Springfield, during the worst wind storm in recent memory. All the way up I-39, I fought the wheel till my muscles trembled and my hands were numb. It was brute force against brute force. When we finally exited the expressway, and I pulled into a parking lot so my wife could take over, she likened the drive to a marathon, and said she'd never seen such a test of will. The Bears test of will against the Vikings did not go as well.
When I became bedridden, football was an eagerly anticipated distraction. Football became the number one weapon in my insomnia-fighting arsenal. No matter who was playing, no matter how exciting the game, kickoff signaled three hours of blissful repose.
But like everything else, over the years, football became more politicized. I'm talking about the whole uber-patriotic, love it or leave it, Toby Keith bullshit.
The whole CTE situation left a bad taste in my mouth. Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy is a degenerative brain disease caused by repeated blows to the head. CTE is now being diagnosed across the sports spectrum, from rugby players to rodeo riders, from boxers (from which we get the term "punch drunk") to wrestlers. CTE is caused by serious concussions, but also from repeated blows to the head that do not produce concussions. It can affect high school athletes in as little as two years of participation in sports.
CTE is also being investigated in cases of domestic violence.
Symptoms typically manifest years after the initial head trauma, and the degenerative process occurs in stages. ADHD, confusion, disorientation, dizziness, and headaches are followed by memory loss, social instability, impulsive behavior, and poor judgment. The later stages include progressive dementia, movement disorders, speech impediments, tremors, vertigo, deafness, depression, and suicidal tendencies.
The league knew for years how dangerous the repeated concussions were to the players, and said nothing. Then the NFL fought tooth and nail to deny liability, and when a settlement was reached with the player's union, the judge had to step in and increase the amount to cover future claims.
I am allured by the Roman coliseums, the gladiators battling it out, the pomp and pageantry, but I never required permanent brain damage as a cost of my entertainment.
Now, this Colin Kaepernick thing. He made one simple gesture. He kneeled during the national anthem to protest police brutality in the black community. That's it. He didn't spit on the flag. He didn't make rude gestures at the fans. He didn't run up and down the sidelines with a sign.
He knelt silently with his head reverently bowed. For that he was blackballed (and the irony of the word should not be missed). Oh, the controversy, the political firestorm. One (black) player said the lesson was clear - "boy, stay in your place," while another (black) player said, "he's not worth it."
What Boomer Esiason said, does not bear repeating.
When the Bears have third string has-beens like Mark Sanchez on the squad, there's no room for Kap? Maybe he's asking too much. Maybe he's not good enough to be a starter. But to not have a job?
Once again the owners and the NFL caved to the money. God forbid they should upset their rabid fan base with concepts like injustice and compassion. The players in the National Football League are 70% black. It's the whole Dixie Chicks "shut up and sing" routine. The message from the league, the owners, and the fans is "shut up and play."
Now there's not a game played where at least one player doesn't kneel during the anthem. Usually it's several players, black and white. In last week's Sunday Night Football game, a player for San Francisco (Kaepernick's team when he first made the gesture) was kneeling, surrounded by teammates, with one white player resting his hand on the shoulder of his kneeling teammate.
The camera panned onto the player, and Al Michaels said, "Well, there's the inevitable player kneeling during the national anthem. We can check that box off."
I thought, "You motherfucker. With one glib remark you dismiss those players as if they should thank God, America, and their lucky stars for the great honor that has been bestowed upon them to be able to play in the NFL."
Then. THEN. Some hot blonde in a tight, black sheath was happy to welcome Fox Sports' newest team member, Mike Vick.
Yes. The same Michael Vick convicted of running a dog-fighting ring. The same Michael Vick who served 21 months in a federal prison.
I believe that everyone in America should be given a second chance. Players come back all the time from suspensions and prison terms for drug violations, gun violations, punching a girlfriend in the face, but the majority of black ex-cons do not find that second chance as a TV personality (Judge Mathis notwithstanding). No offence to Michael or Mike, but this is clearly another callous programming stunt by Fox to pander to that same low mindset.
These guys are jerks. Jocks and jerks. What the hell am I doing supporting such an institution? I am not going to form a group called Antifo (Anti-football Aktion), and counter-protest games, but I may not watch as many, and certainly not with the same gusto. But I may tune in from time to time, especially when I need a nap.
No comments:
Post a Comment