Musings on Football

The masses converge at Bobby Dodd Stadium, Atlanta, GA.

Organized sports have never occupied a place of importance in my life. As a shy, nearsighted, and overweight child, I quickly developed a disliking for any activity involving exertion, coordination, and competition. My inability to perform athletically left me uninterested in watching other people perform feats of physical prowess, so I never learned the rules to anything - baseball, basketball, football - and any enjoyment I did glean from the observance thereof relied mostly on the festive atmosphere of sitting in a particular stadium and eating the related foods (Dodger dogs, peanuts in a shell, frozen lemonade, etc.).

Fast forward about 20 years and I find myself married to a very devoted college football fan. Due to favorable geographic and financial circumstances, we decided to purchase season tickets for the beloved team (Georgia Tech). I decided it was high time to learn the rules of the game (and also, those tickets weren't cheap, so I was determined to get as much out of the investment as possible). I purchased two books: Football for Dummies and the appealingly-titled Get Your Own Damn Beer, I'm Watching the Game!: A Woman's Guide to Loving Pro Football.

Five months later, the football season over, and the ACC Championship game next weekend (yes - we bought tickets!), I must admit that my appreciation for the sport has grown considerably. I still ask embarrassing questions at each game ("I know I have asked this before, but what, exactly, is a sack?" or "Why did they only get six points if they scored a touchdown?" (yes, I am an idiot)), but I am getting there. Who would have thought that football was really a more violent version of chess, where instead of little wooden figures, the coaches use big burly men to carry out their strategy against one another, and instead of a chess board, the action occurs on a gigantic field? While I admire the ability of players, coaches, and ardent sports fans to understand the seemingly obscene amount of intricacies to the game, I must confess I do still feel a twinge of moral indignation whenever I hear people comment, re-hash, and discuss the stuff that happened in one game for minutes to hours afterwards. As someone who grades college papers, I have read papers written by high school coaches, as well as former athletes, and I can't help but wish a bit more of the paper-writers' time was spent reading and, er, learning how to spell. But I leave off griping here, as this is a sore spot that is best not indulged at the moment.

When it comes down to it, college football games are thrilling; the athleticism truly impressive, and the fact that it is all being orchestrated by a particular coach is fascinating. It is fun to have a team to root for. From whence cometh this inherent desire for strife, for competition, and, in some fans' cases, for picking fights? One theory I have is that organized sports (college football in particular, and college football in the South, especially) fills the void left by the end of family feuds. If we can no longer challenge someone to a duel, the next best thing, I assume, is to trash talk the fans and players of the opposing team.

Go Jackets!