Fandom for Football

As a wild year of political vitriol, anxiety and division wimpers to a highly anticipated end, there has been one thing that’s pushed me to continue forward, strengthened my bond with family and kept me in contact with friends on all corners of the county — football.

Now look, sports are an inherent roller coaster ride of emotion. There’s the thrill of victory – when your team blocks a last second field goal to ice the game against an arch rival. There’s the agony of watching your starting quarterback, arms draped on the shoulders of athletic trainers, hobble off the gridiron after taking an unnecessary hit in the waning minutes of a game that was all but lost.

Lady Victory is a merciless, heartless and fickle temptress. For most, she’s simply a siren, singing out with the promise of prestige and glory to lure hopeful players into the rocks of defeat. Only one team gets the honor of walking hand-in-hand with her into the history books by becoming Super Bowl Champions on the second Sunday of February.

Football is about way more than simply winning. It’s a microcosm of life – full of trials, tribulations and overcoming obstacles to achieve an ultimate goal.

It’s about a kid who came into the League full of piss, vinegar and potential, but never got a true shot due to injuries and terrible management finally finding home in a franchise that believes in him and showing the world all that he’s capable of.

It’s about seeing a master of their craft exemplify grace under pressure. Watching as he drops back in the pocket – swarmed by a storm of two-or-three-hundred pound elite athletes who’ve spent their entire lives perfecting the art of hitting a quarterback – standing tall in the face of chaos and delivering a 40-yard pass that could thread a needle with just the flick of a wrist.

Around 2,000 years ago, the poet Juvenal wrote of the Roman people, “give them bread and circuses and they will never revolt.”

It’s a quote that creeps into my mind anytime I think about my football fandom. For all its flashy fanfare and juicy off-season dramatics, the National Football League is the greatest circus of all time. I say, who doesn’t need a little break from the looming stressors of life? Whether a fantasy book of orcs and warlock, mindless video games or watching millionaire modern day gladiators try to get a pigskin down a field for eight hours on Sundays– we could all use an escape.

Football has given me an excuse to call my brother to recap the Packers game and what “we” should do in the trade market, a reason to stay in contact with buddies from high school for our annual fantasy football league and a way to bond with complete strangers just because I recognize the silly logo on their hat.

In recent years, I’ve tried not to let the outcome of grown men playing a children’s sport dictate my emotions, maybe it’s from being over 25 with a fully developed frontal cortex. Instead, I try to appreciate what it is those god-given genetic freaks are doing, the lifetime of hours put into honing their craft and use it as inspiration for what happens when talent works hard.