My name is Cristie, and I’m a football hypocrite.
I spent the better part of the weekend with football on every television in our house. I got a manicure during the Penn State game, watching the ticker obsessively to see if my beloved Mountaineers were victorious (They were!). I sat at dinner on Thursday with the rest of my family as we reveled in a Dallas defeat, because no matter how terrible our own team is, we all still love a Cowboy drubbing even if we do hate the Eagles.
I love football. Really, really love it. I hang a college flag on weekends, still follow my high school on the internet and hold dear the warm memories of those freezing cold Saturdays spent cheering on the sidelines for my classmates in CYO.
From an early age, I attended schools where football came second only to academics and even that placement is arguable at times. Football is in my blood. And yet…
I have two young boys, and I thank my lucky stars every night that they love to play soccer (the other football in this country). I worry that they’ll break bones and cut themselves wide open, but I rarely lose sleep over head injuries that may land them in a dumpster after having taken their own life, afraid they might be an embarrassment to me.
Quite honestly, I never thought twice about the brutality of the sport until I had my own potential pint-sized linemen, and then all I could focus on was how many times in one game a man’s head hits something else, hard. It was a no brainer (no pun intended) then for me to decide to keep my own two from the sport. Full disclosure, neither ever expressed much interest but when they have I have expressed my fears pretty openly. I am not sure though how much I could have stood against their desires if were much stronger. There are days when I am kinda jealous of my mom-friends who have their own Boys of Fall. If they really wanted to play, I may just have let them play. Luckily for me they chose soccer and I get to rest easy about their brains, barring the occasional header here and there.
But what do I do about my love of the sport? What about all the other sons of someone who have irreparable brain damage because of this game we all love? Can I continue to watch it when I won’t let my own children play? Can I get my boys (and girl) on the bandwagon and then turn around and tell them they can only watch? Can we all love it even if we know it may slowly be damaging people?
None of this is new. There are old timers with horror stories of crippling arthritis and injuries that keep them from living a normal life after their days are over. Lately though, it’s the brains that get ya. It seems everywhere you turn there is a new story of someone paying the ultimate price for their days on the field and some of them never even enjoyed and NFL salary.
I know from the press releases that flood my inbox that the NFL is trying to do something by educating youth coaches and parents alike about ways to make the game more safe. Is that enough? If not, what is? I know there are real problems in the world that should take up more of my mind. But right now, with a fresh new possibly- football-related death in the news, I can’t help but focus on this one. This football problem I have, it’s a big one and I’m here to call myself out on it.
I think I may just go count the days until baseball season.
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This will come as no surprise to you given that our brains seem to be pretty darn in sync…this is a topic that’s been heavy on my mind lately. As we hang our UCLA flag, dress in head-to-toe blue and gold, and shout at the TV, I have to look away every single time they show a play in slow motion. I couldn’t help but laugh when Big used to say that he wanted to be in the UCLA band because he wanted to be a part of the football experience, but the game was too rough for him. They always joked that Little could be on the team since he’s tough and fast, but I pray he isn’t and continue to steer him toward soccer and baseball. I know two (seriously…only two) boys in our area who play tackle football. This uptight Silicon Valley area has decided our kids’ brains are too important to risk, yet we just built a brand new 49ers stadium so we can watch others put themselves in harm’s way. It’s a really important topic and I’m glad you raised it.
WOW! This is such a powerful piece and so true. I often find myself thinking the same thing. I was so grateful when my very athletic son gave up football at the age of 8 after 2 years of flag football at the Y. I still live in fear that a high school coach is going to see how athletic he is or his friends will talk him into trying out when he gets to high school.
I read the book League of Denial last fall. After reading the book, you never think of the sport the same way. The thing that stuck with me… according to the above book, “if 7 out of 10 moms don’t want their son’s to play we will lose the sport in a generation.” I think we are there. My son hangs with a very athletic group, none of them play football competitively.