Every Sunday as I hunker down and prepare to engross myself in hours of NFL football, I seldom ask myself, "What is it that makes this game so great?" I feel obligated, as an homage to the sport and a justification to those people I ignore each and every Sunday, to explain the reasons I am so entirely enthralled by this wonderful game.
First—to a large extent this rings true to most men and perhaps to a lesser extent women—the physicality of the game draws my attention. The sheer power of the players on the field is in a word, "awesome." The stunning combination of athleticism, speed, and strength is a spectacle in itself, reminiscent of Roman Gladiators entering the Coliseum two millennia ago.
Second, it is in our nature as people, and especially as Americans, to enjoy violence so long as it is framed within the confines of a game, a TV show, or a movie. We can't help but be struck by the ferocity with which this game is played.
When you combine the aesthetic elements of violence, power, and sheer athleticism with the mechanics, teamwork, and complexity of NFL football, you have something for everybody. The brutish male can drool as he eats pork rinds and vicariously opines about what he would have done on fourth and one, instead of what that dumb ass coach chose to do. The professorial types can ogle the stats, symmetry, timing, and precision of the game. Others may simply enjoy the speed and grace of the athletes.
I think the final stone that remains unturned in my quest to explain the enormous popularity of this sport is what I call the "soap opera element." The style and pizzazz of the game itself draws us in so much so that we begin to know the players, coaches, referees, announcers, analysts, and so forth. This cast of characters creates a drama that perhaps has its genesis on the field, but often is entirely unrelated to football as the theatrics play out.
The Minnesota Vikings have the Brett Favre saga, and now the Childress-Favre Cold War. The Dallas Cowboys boast the moniker "America's Team," which makes their abysmal 2010 season all the more fascinating, and might I add, enjoyable. The Green Bay Packers have a home grown feel, which leads the talking heads to wax poetic about the history of the game, the way things used to be, and the purity of the Green Bay tradition.
There are also old hatreds, which may hold more of a place inside the minds of the media and fans, than in the thoughts of the players. McNabb vs. Philly, Rex Ryan vs. Bill Belichick, and the historical rivalry of Bears vs. Packers are just a small sample of the currently ongoing "feuds" in the NFL.
There are stories of redemption, which allow us the guilty pleasure of building up and tearing down athletes. Michael Vick's resurgence this year, Favre's brilliant return last year, and Vince Young's comeback from the brink of suicide are all scenarios that attract our interest, either to celebrate their redemptive qualities or to squawk about these players' past indiscretions. Throw in Chad Ochocinco, add a dash of Terrell Owens, and sprinkle some Albert Haynesworth on top, and you have a casserole with a flavor everyone can enjoy.
The secret to the NFL's success is the combination of a brilliant game that is backed by an equally juicy storyline. The NBA markets individuals, the MLB markets stats and history, and the NFL markets stories. Stories, as it turns out, that we all love to read.
--from Adam
First—to a large extent this rings true to most men and perhaps to a lesser extent women—the physicality of the game draws my attention. The sheer power of the players on the field is in a word, "awesome." The stunning combination of athleticism, speed, and strength is a spectacle in itself, reminiscent of Roman Gladiators entering the Coliseum two millennia ago.
Second, it is in our nature as people, and especially as Americans, to enjoy violence so long as it is framed within the confines of a game, a TV show, or a movie. We can't help but be struck by the ferocity with which this game is played.
When you combine the aesthetic elements of violence, power, and sheer athleticism with the mechanics, teamwork, and complexity of NFL football, you have something for everybody. The brutish male can drool as he eats pork rinds and vicariously opines about what he would have done on fourth and one, instead of what that dumb ass coach chose to do. The professorial types can ogle the stats, symmetry, timing, and precision of the game. Others may simply enjoy the speed and grace of the athletes.
I think the final stone that remains unturned in my quest to explain the enormous popularity of this sport is what I call the "soap opera element." The style and pizzazz of the game itself draws us in so much so that we begin to know the players, coaches, referees, announcers, analysts, and so forth. This cast of characters creates a drama that perhaps has its genesis on the field, but often is entirely unrelated to football as the theatrics play out.
The Minnesota Vikings have the Brett Favre saga, and now the Childress-Favre Cold War. The Dallas Cowboys boast the moniker "America's Team," which makes their abysmal 2010 season all the more fascinating, and might I add, enjoyable. The Green Bay Packers have a home grown feel, which leads the talking heads to wax poetic about the history of the game, the way things used to be, and the purity of the Green Bay tradition.
There are also old hatreds, which may hold more of a place inside the minds of the media and fans, than in the thoughts of the players. McNabb vs. Philly, Rex Ryan vs. Bill Belichick, and the historical rivalry of Bears vs. Packers are just a small sample of the currently ongoing "feuds" in the NFL.
There are stories of redemption, which allow us the guilty pleasure of building up and tearing down athletes. Michael Vick's resurgence this year, Favre's brilliant return last year, and Vince Young's comeback from the brink of suicide are all scenarios that attract our interest, either to celebrate their redemptive qualities or to squawk about these players' past indiscretions. Throw in Chad Ochocinco, add a dash of Terrell Owens, and sprinkle some Albert Haynesworth on top, and you have a casserole with a flavor everyone can enjoy.
The secret to the NFL's success is the combination of a brilliant game that is backed by an equally juicy storyline. The NBA markets individuals, the MLB markets stats and history, and the NFL markets stories. Stories, as it turns out, that we all love to read.
--from Adam
This is beautiful Adam. May I add that the NHL's relative success is most likely due to beards and fighting.
ReplyDeleteAgreed!
ReplyDeleteGood thoughts. Especially liked/agreed with the comparisons between sports.
ReplyDelete