He liked other sports too. He liked watching basketball and golf and boxing and horse racing but the sport I remember watching the most with him was football.
On Sunday we would come home from church and while Mom toiled in the kitchen to concoct the All American Sunday Dinner, the old man would sit in his chair and turn the TV to whichever seasonal sport was on. I remember loving football the most because it was on during the fall and into the winter and I could postpone whatever school work I had to do because the old man would let me watch football with him.
As I became an adult and I got my own place and I could watch whatever I want whenever I want, I still watched a lot of football. The last few years I haven't watched as much because I work on Sundays, but I still watched Sunday Night Football, Monday Night Football, and Thursday Night Football. During each football season I usually belonged to two different fantasy football leagues and I spent an inordinate amount of time watching game highlights, reading team newspaper reports and sports blogs so that I could use the gathered information to compete in my leagues. I always knew there were better and more productive ways to spend my time, but hey, whatever man.
I always dug the beautiful symmetry of a perfectly executed run play; the offensive linemen blocking and the running back dancing through the labyrinth of carnage. I loved watching a speedy wide receiver crossing up his defender and catching a brilliantly thrown pass.
But what really got my attention was the defensive hits. For years the NFL ran a show called Jacked Up wherein they showed play after play of guys getting their bells rung by other guys and I only ever felt bad about it when the guy who got nailed had to be removed on a stretcher.
But then players I enjoyed watching started missing games and even seasons and even retiring because of concussion related damage. Merrill Hoge, Troy Aikman, and Steve Young among others. I, belatedly, began to pay attention to the fallout of all the headshots these guys took.
Then guys started dying.
But first they'd suffer dementia, depression and various other malladies. So the NFL, in their wisdom, convened a group to study the effects of head trauma. They appointed a *ahem* rheumatologist to be their head trauma point man. Then he, and the NFL, denied for years that repetetive head trauma, you know, like the ones routinely suffered by their players, was the cause of any problems.
If you've got the time, I'd highly recommend this documentary about how all this stuff came to light.
Let's shift gears here for a minute.
The NFL franchise in Washington D.C. is named the Redskins. Being a white male, it was convenient for me to ignore the offensiveness of this team name. The NFL and the Washington franchise owner cried aloud that the name was meant to honor Native Americans and that they were proud to do so and that the public should just relax. So I did.
And then I saw this:
So pretty much the name change was to avoid confusion so that the team could make more money, and had nothing to do with honoring Native Americans. Ugh.
And now I think the NFL and Daniel Snyder, the owner of the Washington franchise are awful. They are full of lies. They, like other corporations, only want my money. They will lie, prevaricate, deceive, and con anyone in their path to keep making their money.
And, I'm ashamed to say, I was still planning on watching football and participating in fantasy football this year. I was just going to swallow a jarful of purposeful amnesia so I could continue to enjoy this game that I have always loved.
But now, I can't. Here, lemme splain.
If an NFL player gets busted for smoking marijuana, that player gets automatically supsended four games for a first offense and more games for further violations of the drug policy. Hang on to this nugget of info, we'll get back to it later.
A few months ago, Ray Rice, a running back for the Baltimore Ravens was in Las Vegas with his fiancee, Janay Palmer. In an elevator, they fought, and Rice apparently knocked her out cold. There's video of him dragging her limp form out of the elevator.
And now the NFL has reviewed all of the facts, and they have suspended Rice for two games.
Got that? Smoke a joint, four or more games. Knock a woman out cold and drag her limp body around, two games.
And that was it. I decided that I would, as headline reads, vote with my feet. I will no longer give the NFL my time or my money. I will make every effort to display them as mysoginistic, racist, money grubbing assholes until either I die, or they are able to treat their players and fans as human beings with all of the respect that they deserve.
Postscript: Two days ago, Ray Rice reported to off season workouts for the Ravens. He received a standing ovation from fans. I'm confident now that I've made the right choice.
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