Posted on January 18, 2023 by Tim Eagan
If you follow these writings closely (as my dog does), you know that a few years back I stopped watching football. It’s just too violent.
When I say “stopped watching,” of course, I mean “kept on watching.” It has been difficult, moreover, for me to shake my lifelong habit of watching grown men savagely assault one another. I do like to tell myself, however, that the reason I still tune in is not for the brutality, but for the ascendant feats of athletic brilliance on display during these contests. That’s my excuse, anyway, and I’m sticking with it.
I can also say, as a further defense, that I don’t watch as much as I used to. The playoffs are now underway, for instance, and rather than spending three hours in catatonic transfixification, I have relegated football to just one position in my channel-surfing rotation. As I sweep by the game, I am keeping an eye out for great plays, comebacks, and other sports heroics. If there’s nothing, I move on. Usually.
Another reason I continue to watch is that I still have a rooting stake in these games. I want some teams to win, and I want others to lose. The Niners, for example, are my home team, and they must always win. The Dallas Cowboys, on the other hand, must always lose. You may remember that it was they who killed JFK.
Preferences involving other teams are strictly relative and subject to my complex and arbitrary rating system. The politics of players, coaches, and owners is an important variable, as are their various personalities, uniforms, mascots and haircuts. Sometimes the slightest offense can tip the scales for or against a team. Mispronouncing “Jaguars,” for instance. There is no such thing as a “Jagwire.”
At least I have a code. Otherwise, I’d just be into football for the bloodlust. Like Iam was for boxing.
When I say “stopped watching,” of course, I mean “kept on watching.” It has been difficult, moreover, for me to shake my lifelong habit of watching grown men savagely assault one another. I do like to tell myself, however, that the reason I still tune in is not for the brutality, but for the ascendant feats of athletic brilliance on display during these contests. That’s my excuse, anyway, and I’m sticking with it.
I can also say, as a further defense, that I don’t watch as much as I used to. The playoffs are now underway, for instance, and rather than spending three hours in catatonic transfixification, I have relegated football to just one position in my channel-surfing rotation. As I sweep by the game, I am keeping an eye out for great plays, comebacks, and other sports heroics. If there’s nothing, I move on. Usually.
Another reason I continue to watch is that I still have a rooting stake in these games. I want some teams to win, and I want others to lose. The Niners, for example, are my home team, and they must always win. The Dallas Cowboys, on the other hand, must always lose. You may remember that it was they who killed JFK.
Preferences involving other teams are strictly relative and subject to my complex and arbitrary rating system. The politics of players, coaches, and owners is an important variable, as are their various personalities, uniforms, mascots and haircuts. Sometimes the slightest offense can tip the scales for or against a team. Mispronouncing “Jaguars,” for instance. There is no such thing as a “Jagwire.”
At least I have a code. Otherwise, I’d just be into football for the bloodlust. Like I
