It's All About the Pigskin

Please note that this same article has also been posted on The Sports Nut.

Alright sports fans, time to buckle up the chin straps, slip on the pads, and get your mouthpieces in. That’s right, the long awaited and much anticipated 2008 football season is nearly upon us. So it’s still over a month away, it’s close enough that we can start measuring the time until opening kickoff in weeks not months, and that is cause for any red blooded American male, not to mention a growing number of females, to get excited. In less than six weeks we will be spending our Sunday mornings prepping for the National Football League, and in less than five we will be waking up on Saturday mornings to Chris Fowler, Kirk Herbstreit, and Lee Corso on ESPN getting us ready for the day’s college gridiron action. From Corso’s “not so fast my friend” to Boomer’s “he could go all the way” we are in for another great college and pro football season, and weekends will once again be full of life and meaning and relevance. Get your yard work done over the next few weekends, because come September the yard goes dormant, the pool gets dirty, and the garage will remain in its present state until the bye week in late January.

There is no sport that is as classic Americana as football. Once upon a time baseball was our national pastime. It represented who we were as a nation in the early to mid 20th century, rural, pastoral, easy going and slow moving. It’s rhythms and cadence was in sync with the national populace for the first half of what has been termed the American Century, and I’m not referring to the sponsor of the celebrity golf tournament in Lake Tahoe, but to the century during which America became first a player on the international scene, then one of the two major superpowers of the world, and finished as the undisputed heavyweight champ in terms of politics, military power, and economic might. As we have grown into a more urban and industrial power, a process which began in earnest after the Second World War and had pretty much been accomplished by the start of the 1960’s, we have changed our pace and tempo. We became much more aggressive, much more dominant in the world, and much more militaristic. We also became a nation defined not so much by baseball, and the other big sports of the first half of the century, boxing and horse racing, and became a nation that embraced the passion and controlled violence of football, along with the other dominant sports of the day, basketball and NASCAR. But make no mistake, while baseball remains a big deal in our culture and sports landscape, and while basketball has become arguably the second most popular pastime with those under the age of 40, football is king.

Football is the perfect blend of brute strength, flash and finesse, incredible stamina, with strong doses of intelligence and creativity. There is something beautiful and symmetric about a march down the field that starts at the 20 yard line, a few runs up the middle, some short swing passes out to the flat, a big completion over the middle for first down on 3rd and 8 at midfield to keep the drive alive, an exciting cut back 12 yard run on 1st and 10, a precision strike 20 yards down field to get into scoring range, a big push by the offensive line and a fullback plowing ahead for a first down on 3rd and 1, and the finish, the touchdown pass, catch, and run, the ball breaking the plain of the goal line and the home crowd going crazy as six points are registered on the big board.

We hold the head coach and his lieutenants in the highest intellectual esteem, we throw around terms like creative genius to describe men in gray sweatshirts who spend most of their waking hours holed up in their coaching bunkers, watching game film and plotting strategy like military generals. Those who do it well are heralded and regaled by the public, those who don’t succeed are ridiculed and pushed to the boiling point by fans and media alike, until they are put on the next train out of town, only to resurface in some new outpost with a new crew and fresh hope. We marvel at the physical dexterity of the skill position players, the prima donna ballerina wide outs, the dashing and daring running backs, the highway bandits known as defensive backs. We stand in awe at the ferocity of linebackers and defensive lineman who get us slobbering on our chicken wings and spitting out our beer when they jack someone up. We are amazed at the sheer size and strength of offensive lineman, enormous men in excess of 300 pounds who can nonetheless move with a measure of grace and fluidity as they open holes and keep would be assassins away from their quarterback. We cringe at kickers the way we do when we see that certain neighbor that we would rather avoid, but we love them when they work their magic. And quarterbacks, ahh quarterbacks. They are the gunslingers of the modern era, the dashing leading men admired by men and women alike, the fearless leaders who ride in from the sideline on their white horse and take us to the Promised Land. We love them and hate them, cheer them and curse them, name our sons after them, my own son is named Jake, in part for my favorite Arizona State QB, Jake Plummer, and follow their moves like heads of state. In fact the only person getting more publicity and media coverage right now than Brett Favre is probably Barack Obama.

Some of us prefer the pros on Sundays, others are more partial to the collegians on Saturdays, and others like me are equally enamored of both, although I must profess a slight partiality to the pro game. Each has its own unique qualities and advantages. While the professionals are undoubtedly the more physical and more skilled, and while pro teams represent the passion and hopes of their respective cities, there is nothing quite like the raw emotion of rooting for your favorite college team, be they your alma mater or the team that portrays your home state in a positive or negative light. There is nothing quite like the intensity of the great college rivalries, the closest thing to civil war that we have had since the Yanks and Rebs squared off for keeps. There is nothing that matches the anticipation of the weekend’s upcoming games, making predictions, breaking down the matchups, analyzing the point spreads, and setting fantasy rosters. When the smorgasbord comes to a conclusion with the final gun on Monday night, we go to bed exhausted but with smiles on our faces, knowing that after a couple days to recover and occupy ourselves with the rest of our lives, it will be time to start breaking down and looking forward to the next weekend’s slate of action.

So get the chores done, the errands run, and the long term projects completed. Take the family trips, spend some quality time with the wife, and write some letters to the in-laws. Watch some more baseball, enjoy the upcoming Olympic Games in smog choked China. Then get your hats on and bust out the jerseys, fly the flags and stock up on beer, meats that lend themselves to the grill, and anything and everything with cheese in it, and I’m not talking about those goofy foam hats either. Only four more Saturdays and five more Sundays without our beloved pigskin on the tube, and in our hearts and minds. Then the air gets clearer, the views get sharper, especially if you have high def, the food tastes better and the world gets more interesting. May your college team make a run for the roses, or your bowl of choice, and may your pro team be playing well into January. Here’s to another great football season, enjoy it while it’s here, because before you know it, it will be February and we’ll be suffering from the post Super Bowl blues and wondering how we will ever occupy our time for the next seven months. But for now, that is light years away, and life starts anew in just a few short weeks. Then it will once again, be all about the pigskin.