God, football is so great.
Saw a great college game tonight, #1 OU Sooners v. the up-and-coming Tigers of the University of Missouri. Ranked #11 coming into the game, undefeated in 2010, and playing at home, MU manages to pull out the big game and, concurrently, the rug from under incipient Sooner-Land dreams of a national championship run this year.
(My pet cat is a tiger, by the way. A miniature, housecat-sized tiger; so, small for a tiger. But straight tiger, seriously. Like, elephant-mauling, on a regular basis. She eats Indian villagers for breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner.)
I mean, so I had no real allegiance tonight. Brett's from Columbia, MO; I was watching the game with him, so of course I was like, Yeah Tigers! Woo! But my dad was born an Okie, he's crimson and cream, so I feel his pain when the 'ol Sooners stumble. But, dad, in true hat-tipping style, I'll say this: you have to grant that OU has one of the proudest, strongest, longest-standing traditions of excellence in the history of college football. They have been #1 before, and they will be #1 again.
But Mizzou, long-suffering Mizzou. They played a bona-fide game tonight: created (and capitalized) on opportunities, corrected mistakes, and believed that they could win the game. Importantly: not that they "would" win, that they were destined to, but that if they worked hard and got some breaks, fate could smile on them.
And: what, then, of my Broncos? I'm about to go to bed, wake up, and find a rabbit's foot to rub. It's the Raiders tomorrow, the schizo Raiders, and they always manage to eff things up for us. It's, it's...it's about this belief thing: the Broncos should put the Raiders down tomorrow, like a dying dog. It should be a shotgun to the head, quick and merciful. The Raiders are a mess, really, but the Broncos are poised on the doorstep. Time to step on through, right?...We'll see...
Sigh. Football.....(!)
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Democracy In Action, Football-Style
I was at a party the other night and found myself wrangling with some former philosophy major about the definition of justice. Justice is a slippery concept, and often subjectively defined; in the case of two opposing parties, what's justice for one is often injustice for the other, according to which perspective you're looking at the situation from. Anyways, to make a long story short, I found myself using the National Football League as an example of a just system. Football is an ideal ground for generating a just system, because the end goal is simple and universally agreed-upon: namely, to compete and win. Everyone involved with football, from the players to the fans, wants to see a fairly-adjudicated contest that determines a winner. Asterisks are inherently less satisfying; everyone wants to walk away from the game knowing, more or less, that one team beat the other.
The NFL never stops trying to make sure that this result is achieved. Discussion regarding rule-modification is continuous, and moves in response to perceived illegitimacies that occur on the playing field. Instant replay is a perfect example. Imperfect when originally introduced, it was often the source of controversy; yet, at the same time, the advent of replay-technology and the god's-eye-view it provided made it impossible to simply ignore. Accordingly, modifications to the replay system were introduced, and it is now a satisfying and important part of the game. The key innovation was to limit instant replay's sphere of influence. Namely, what the rule says is that if the replay doesn't show clear, compelling evidence, then the call stands as it was made on the field by the human official. Written this way, the rule satisfies everyone: both the players and officials on the field of play, and the fans on couches at home watching on television sets. It makes a logical concession to the tv-viewers (who have become an integral part of the modern game), while centering primacy for decisions with those who are actually on the playing field.
I excused myself from the conversation with the philosophy major after about fifteen minutes because he was, well, a philosophy major. But part of why I'm writing this blog is to explore my own deep engagement with football, to parse why I find it so damn enjoyable and satisfying. As such, it was pretty fun to find that football was an ideal reference point in a high-falutin' discussion about something like the nature of justice. Besides, philosophizers don't want answers, they just want to keep talking and arguing and talking, forever and ever. Football gots no time for that sort of b---s---. Football wants results, wants to get things done. Thank god for football. Football!
The NFL never stops trying to make sure that this result is achieved. Discussion regarding rule-modification is continuous, and moves in response to perceived illegitimacies that occur on the playing field. Instant replay is a perfect example. Imperfect when originally introduced, it was often the source of controversy; yet, at the same time, the advent of replay-technology and the god's-eye-view it provided made it impossible to simply ignore. Accordingly, modifications to the replay system were introduced, and it is now a satisfying and important part of the game. The key innovation was to limit instant replay's sphere of influence. Namely, what the rule says is that if the replay doesn't show clear, compelling evidence, then the call stands as it was made on the field by the human official. Written this way, the rule satisfies everyone: both the players and officials on the field of play, and the fans on couches at home watching on television sets. It makes a logical concession to the tv-viewers (who have become an integral part of the modern game), while centering primacy for decisions with those who are actually on the playing field.
I excused myself from the conversation with the philosophy major after about fifteen minutes because he was, well, a philosophy major. But part of why I'm writing this blog is to explore my own deep engagement with football, to parse why I find it so damn enjoyable and satisfying. As such, it was pretty fun to find that football was an ideal reference point in a high-falutin' discussion about something like the nature of justice. Besides, philosophizers don't want answers, they just want to keep talking and arguing and talking, forever and ever. Football gots no time for that sort of b---s---. Football wants results, wants to get things done. Thank god for football. Football!
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Poor Brett Favre
Oh, Brett Fav-Ree. Things aren't looking so swell for you these days. Against the Jets on Monday night, following the weekend's revelations that Brett likes to text-message photos of his wiener to girls who aren't his wife, 'ol Fav-Ree looked horribly old for the first 3 quarters of the game. He looked like a man whose head was elsewhere, quite possibly mulling over the fact that his marriage, public image and career were adrift in iceberg-strewn waters. He threw passes to nowhere, the football just dropped out of his hands (repeatedly) onto the ground as though he'd forgotten he was holding it. He looked like a man with serious problems. Watching his reaction after making yet another terrible play, hands on his head, you didn't need to be a telepath to read his mind: "...shouldn't have sent that text, damnit, I really shouldn't have sent that text..."
And then, suddenly, 41 year-old Grandpa Brett caught fire. On third-and-17 from the Jets 37, with 2:10 left in the 3rd quarter, he reared back and threw a perfect bomb to newly-reminted Viking Randy Moss for the Vikings first score of the game; 'ol Fav-ree ran down the field and leapt into Moss's arms like a joyous teenager. On the Vikings two following drives he was scintillating, firing the ball all over the field with pinpoint accuracy, cutting through the much-vaunted Jets defense like the proverbial knife through butter. And just like that, the Vikings were back in the game: with the ball on their own 20 yardline, 1:43 left and down 22-20, in perfect position to take the victory home. And 'ol Fav-ree drops back on 3rd down, and fires the ball straight into the arms of New York Jet Dwight Lowery, who takes it in with ease from 26 yards out for the touchdown: Jets 29, Vikings 20, ballgame over.
Maybe it's silly to say I feel somewhat sorry for Brett Favre. After all, it seems like he was born to play football, and that's exactly what he's done with his life, longer than almost anyone ever has. But it also seems, given that in-born destiny, that he keeps playing because he simply has no idea what else he could possibly do with himself. When he looks his age, he also looks much older; worn out, beaten-down, like Father Time's personal punching bag.
The diminishing returns, the cringe-inducing blunders, are hard to watch. But at the same time, he is still capable of playing the quarterback position with a verve and skill that is kind of breathtaking. Time will take Brett Favre out, eventually, as it takes all football players, as it takes all of us. Watching him fight it is both sad and oddly inspiring. I hope that he finds the clarity to make a graceful exit, so that the memory of the inspiring is what will win out, for him and for the rest of us, in the end.
And then, suddenly, 41 year-old Grandpa Brett caught fire. On third-and-17 from the Jets 37, with 2:10 left in the 3rd quarter, he reared back and threw a perfect bomb to newly-reminted Viking Randy Moss for the Vikings first score of the game; 'ol Fav-ree ran down the field and leapt into Moss's arms like a joyous teenager. On the Vikings two following drives he was scintillating, firing the ball all over the field with pinpoint accuracy, cutting through the much-vaunted Jets defense like the proverbial knife through butter. And just like that, the Vikings were back in the game: with the ball on their own 20 yardline, 1:43 left and down 22-20, in perfect position to take the victory home. And 'ol Fav-ree drops back on 3rd down, and fires the ball straight into the arms of New York Jet Dwight Lowery, who takes it in with ease from 26 yards out for the touchdown: Jets 29, Vikings 20, ballgame over.
Maybe it's silly to say I feel somewhat sorry for Brett Favre. After all, it seems like he was born to play football, and that's exactly what he's done with his life, longer than almost anyone ever has. But it also seems, given that in-born destiny, that he keeps playing because he simply has no idea what else he could possibly do with himself. When he looks his age, he also looks much older; worn out, beaten-down, like Father Time's personal punching bag.
The diminishing returns, the cringe-inducing blunders, are hard to watch. But at the same time, he is still capable of playing the quarterback position with a verve and skill that is kind of breathtaking. Time will take Brett Favre out, eventually, as it takes all football players, as it takes all of us. Watching him fight it is both sad and oddly inspiring. I hope that he finds the clarity to make a graceful exit, so that the memory of the inspiring is what will win out, for him and for the rest of us, in the end.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Heroin Has Nothing on Football
I don't like watching television. In general, watching TV makes me feel old, tired, stupid, angry. I loathe commercials; I think (hope) that most of the people involved with making TV ads will spend the afterlife in a private circle of hell, staring at a television that shows nothing but ads, and none of the ones that are actually somewhat amusing.
Football, for me, is the huge exception. In many ways, I think that the main purpose of TV is to show football games. There are, oh, maybe 4 or 5 activities in life which I find perfectly satisfying, activities I can engage in with 100% of my attention. Eating is great, but afterwards there is either a bill to pay, or dirty dishes to wash. Sex is obviously pretty cool, but afterwards there's the talking you have to do when you just want to fall asleep. The thing with football, is that there are no negatives. The only bad thing about watching a football game is that it will end, and that I will have to do something other than watch football when the game is over.
This is the beauty, though, of being addicted to football, as opposed to another substance which is equally addictive; like, for example, heroin. I have never tried heroin, and I don't plan to, because it doesn't have the same curbs built into its usage system that football does. I mean, from what I know about heroin, I'd imagine that its effect is pretty wonderful: you take it and everything bad or worrisome or scary in life just melts away, and you feel, well, pretty wonderful. But the problem with heroin is that there's always more to take, and no reason to stop taking it. The only built-in curb on heroin use is lack of money, and that's not much of a curb, really, because you can always get more money; for example, by stealing the neighbor's flat-screen television, which is a really bad thing to do, because then the neighbor cannot watch football.
But a person cannot get "more" football. Once the last game of the weekend is over it's just plain over, and you cannot get more until the next weekend. Once football season is over, you cannot get more football until the next season begins. Football-watching is available only in limited quantities and during set periods, which makes it one of the best addictions available. Having addictions is just a basic reality of human existence. Which is one of the reasons for this blog's title, because without football, I would probably be using a ton of heroin.
But I don't need heroin, because I have football. Football!
Football, for me, is the huge exception. In many ways, I think that the main purpose of TV is to show football games. There are, oh, maybe 4 or 5 activities in life which I find perfectly satisfying, activities I can engage in with 100% of my attention. Eating is great, but afterwards there is either a bill to pay, or dirty dishes to wash. Sex is obviously pretty cool, but afterwards there's the talking you have to do when you just want to fall asleep. The thing with football, is that there are no negatives. The only bad thing about watching a football game is that it will end, and that I will have to do something other than watch football when the game is over.
This is the beauty, though, of being addicted to football, as opposed to another substance which is equally addictive; like, for example, heroin. I have never tried heroin, and I don't plan to, because it doesn't have the same curbs built into its usage system that football does. I mean, from what I know about heroin, I'd imagine that its effect is pretty wonderful: you take it and everything bad or worrisome or scary in life just melts away, and you feel, well, pretty wonderful. But the problem with heroin is that there's always more to take, and no reason to stop taking it. The only built-in curb on heroin use is lack of money, and that's not much of a curb, really, because you can always get more money; for example, by stealing the neighbor's flat-screen television, which is a really bad thing to do, because then the neighbor cannot watch football.
But a person cannot get "more" football. Once the last game of the weekend is over it's just plain over, and you cannot get more until the next weekend. Once football season is over, you cannot get more football until the next season begins. Football-watching is available only in limited quantities and during set periods, which makes it one of the best addictions available. Having addictions is just a basic reality of human existence. Which is one of the reasons for this blog's title, because without football, I would probably be using a ton of heroin.
But I don't need heroin, because I have football. Football!
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