WHY FOOTBALL ROCKS: A Response to Evan Rogers's Calumnies of the Second Greatest American Sport

In a post dated September 20th, Evan let loose a torrent of vitriol for the sport of football. His chief complaints where that 1) manipulation of the game clock too often upends the suspense of the second half; 2) complaints against officiating are too predominant; 3) the kicking conventions make no sense in a game based on seizing territory; 4) come-from-behind wins are rare. Commenting on Evan's post, Joel added the fifth criticism that football is "a coach's game" that negates whatever teamwork you think you're seeing on the field. Allow me to dispel these harmful allegations from the best vantage point imaginable--the first row of the end zone.

Which is, in case it isn't obvious where this is going, where I sat with Courtney and Nicole, a UF friend of ours whom you might recall from the wedding's after-party, at yesterday's game between UF and Alabama.
It's from this vantage point that I can debunk all of Evan's criticisms, because at the end of the day, a football game is an experience you have to have first-hand. None of this TV nonsense will do. I'll come back to this, but first let me address the accusations made by Evan & Joel.

1) When you're on the field, the elapsed time of clock management doesn't register--except for in the last minute or so of some games when the leading team often intentionally downs the ball in order to run out the clock. On the field, the effect is actually quite the opposite: you see the players scrambling to get the play in order, and a sense of panic sets in as the playclock approaches zero. On TV, the suspense of that device may seem ill-motivated, especially since the pace of TV viewing is hastened by advertisement montages, but on the ground the clock situtation is more fretful--not so much a deliberate wasting of time (as in my strategies to maintain a lead in the waning moments of a game of NBA Jam '94), but a rush for the offense to get a sense of the defense's plans before deciding what to do with one of their precious possessions.

2) Evan's post came after a week when two games (LSU-Auburn and Oregon-Oklahoma) had controversial calls that affected the outcomes of the contests. Frankly, both of those calls deserved to be contested by all parties because both of them could have gone either way, but the media coverage of those 'scandals' was an exception to the rule. Mostly that kind of bitching just takes place in sports bars.

3) I could hedge here and say that other sports have wacky conventions, too, but that would be poor argumentation. Instead, I'll take the high ground here and just say that it makes more sense when you see it, like here, as kicker Chris Hetland spots up for an extra point:
Moreover, on punts and kick-offs, the effect is that it creates a whole field of chaotic openings through which the receiver can run. The chaos of those returns rarely occurs during the course of an average drive.

4) In each of Florida's three SEC games, the Gators have overcome a deficit to win. So while generally the stronger teams do win out--as they do in most sports--there's still room for all the drama and tension one comes to expect from a sporting event.

5) Yes, this is a coach's game. All team sports are. The only games where that maxim isn't in effect are golf, bowling, and a bunch of other shit that's never televised. Moreover, sports is never a place to think through an allegory for class or other fields of power relations because, frankly, the athletes are treated way too well to be analogues for the working poor, the sexually oppressed, or what have you.

Now, on to my own thesis: that the value of the game is experiential. Functionally, a D-I football game shares a lot of characteristics with other events that people in our circle might more readily assent to--Phish concerts, to name one example. The energy in such a place is simply huge. There's no way of adequately putting it into words. The energy of the band, here shown marching up to the student section before closing off the half-time show,
radiates throughout the stadium, and the energy of the fans is intense. You could take legitimate potshots at the kind of folks who tend to create that energy, and you could even take legitimate potshots at the role that kind of energy has played in history--say, in Nazi rallies--but it's an energy that's addictive and it completely changes the experience of the game. Here's Dallas Baker (#81) and company celebrating his touchdown reception that gave us the lead for the rest of the game:
Can you really tell me that that kind of enery doesn't radiate?

I know that may seem like an unfair argument for football since so many of the Hendrix gang haven't had that kind of experience, but believe me: it's true. I was incredibly reluctant to even go to a game, but when someone offered me a spare ticket to the Arkansas game in my first fall at UF, I figured I couldn't pass by the opportunity to socialize. Only then did I come to enjoy the game.

So you guys should try to come down here and visit on a game weekend. Give me some notice, and I ought to be able to rustle up a couple of tickets for you.

PS: The Gators won 28-13. "Take that, you fucking George Wallaces," say Al and Alberta: