It’s been a while since my last blog post and I needed a break from writing about economics and politics, so here’s a post on another important part of my life: football (for my international friends, I mean real football, not that silly game where they actually use their feet)
.jpg)
February 1, 2015: Undrafted rookie Malcolm Butler runs onto the field in a game that is all but over. 2nd and goal on the 1. Up by 4. Beast Mode ready across the line of scrimmage. But he’s seen this play before. In an instant, certain defeat has transformed into sure victory – and utter misery into sheer euphoria.
Why do we love football? For millions of people, Sundays from September to February have a single purpose – they put their lives on hold to watch a bunch of strangers play what is, on the surface, just a game. I am one of those people. But I’ve often wondered why we care so much about the result of a game that will seemingly have no real effects. Whether the Patriots win or lose, my life goes on essentially unchanged. And yet I spent Super Bowl Sunday pacing around my apartment so tense you would have thought my life depended on it. Why? Aren’t there more important things in life than stupid games?
February 5, 2012: The ball is in his hands. Wes Welker. One of the most sure handed receivers in the history of the NFL. The pass is a bit high, but the ball is in his hands. Until it isn’t. The catch that should have sealed the game ends instead with number 83 lying on the ground, only his head left in his hands.
And why do players and coaches dedicate their lives to this game? Sure some get fame. Some get respect. Some get paid large sums of money. But is that really enough to justify spending every waking hour preparing to play a game that will almost certainly be detrimental to players’ future health? Is it enough to justify staying up late at night watching film to gain even the slightest advantage over another team, or spending a large portion of the year on the road away from their families?
February 3, 2008: An undefeated season on the line. Maybe the best offense to ever play this game has been held to a meager 14 points. And yet somehow they’re up by 4 with 2 minutes to go. Eli Manning breaks away from defenders (who were held) and throws up a prayer. There’s no chance he catches this. It lands on the helmet of David Tyree. There’s no chance he catches this. Rodney Harrison’s arms come inches from the ball. There’s no chance he catches this. He falls to the ground, ball pinned to his head. He caught it.
Perhaps it’s just our savage desire for violence. Does our love of the pigskin come from the same place as the Romans’ love for the gladiators? Is it some sort of evolutionary instinct that compels us to watch grown men beat each other up for 60 minutes? Maybe our ancestors will look back on us with a mix of surprise and disgust. They were entertained by that?! Barbarians!
February 6, 2005: Dynasty. It’s something that’s not supposed to happen in the NFL. The league is designed around the concept of parity. 3 Super Bowls in 4 years? Unheard of. Unheard of, that is, until Tom Brady and Bill Belichick became the ultimate football pair.
We’re not getting anywhere. In fact, football seems like a terrible creation, a blight to be eliminated from a refined society. So let’s talk about something else. Why do we love art? Is it because it looks beautiful? Of course that must be part of it, but I think there’s something deeper. A Picasso painting isn’t beautiful in the common sense of the word, but we still find something about it enticing. It’s unique. Something nobody else in the world could have done. All forms of entertainment share this characteristic. They appeal to us in a purely materialistic sense – because we like what we see and hear. But they also offer us a glimpse at the incredible person behind the creation.
February 1, 2004: Tie game with 4 seconds left. For any normal person the pressure would be suffocating. For Adam Vinatieri it’s just another day at the office. Statisticians say “clutch” doesn’t actually exist. Obviously they haven’t met Mr. Clutch himself.
No other human being on the planet could make the catches made by Odell Beckham. Nobody else can throw a Hail Mary like Aaron Rodgers. To be the absolute best at something, anything, is an experience the vast majority of us can never have (to quote Homer Simpson: “No matter how good you are at something, there’s always about a million people better than you”). But we absolutely love watching those that can. Football offers an opportunity for people to be great. And we love greatness. We love seeing people dedicating their lives to something, becoming the best they can possibly be.
February 3, 2002: The Greatest Show on Turf against a no-name backup quarterback. Nobody gave him a chance. Even with the game tied late in the 4th quarter, the announcers count him out. Just take a knee and play for overtime says John Madden. Instead, he leads the team down the field and Vinatieri splits the uprights for the victory.
We love the stories. Teams on the brink of defeat that never give up and come through with a win. Players that are counted out from the beginning but show up every day determined to prove the world wrong. And these stories are driven by talented individuals pushing themselves to the limits, breaking the boundaries of what people thought was possible.
February 5, 2017: 28-3. Few Super Bowls have been so one-sided. One team has dominated on both sides of the ball. Their quarterback has a perfect passer rating. Their defense puts pressure on the QB despite lockdown coverage in the secondary. No team has ever come back from more than 10 in a Super Bowl. But no other team has had Tom Brady.
A Picasso painting. A Mozart symphony. A Spielberg film. And a Tom Brady Super Bowl? Many will say I’m crazy to put these in the same category, but I find it hard to find a good reason why they shouldn’t be. The product is different and whether people appreciate one form over another will always come down to a subjective value judgement. Some people are bored to tears by museums. Others can’t stand watching sports. But the final product is less important than the once in a lifetime talent and dedication that created it.
April 16, 2000: With the 199th pick in the NFL draft, the New England Patriots draft Thomas Edward Patrick Brady Jr. Nobody knows it yet, but he’s destined to become the best quarterback of all time, a symbol of everything we love about the game of football.
Great post son. Go Pats!