I just finished watching my beloved Philadelphia Eagles decimate the Carolina Panthers (go, birds!) and it got me thinking.We Americans love our football. It inspires video games, fantasy leagues, and beer-guzzling, couch-slouching Sunday afternoons. And Sunday evenings. And Monday nights.
What is it about American football that's so... stimulating?
Is it the violence? Well, kind of. It's a very physical game, with powerful players pushing and pounding on each other. You gotta love a hit that's so hard it rattles your TV. But I don't think that's it.
Is it the athletes? Those mega-millionaires who, because of fortuitous genetics, have become our modern-day heroes? Some of them think they're above the law, and even after conviction and incarceration are still revered as long as they continue to perform on the playing field. Could that be the reason we love the game? No way.
Is it the attitude? That take-no-prisoners approach that pits brother against brother and even family against family in rooting for their favored franchise? Maybe a little, but that's not the real reason.
How about the complexity? Football is a convoluted melange of complicated plays, micro-managed coaching and consummate player specialization. But, no, it's not that, either.
For me, and I think for most fans, it comes down to emotion, a thrill-of-victory, agony-of-defeat kind of thing. The fervor of an action-packed competition between world-class athletes. The heart-swelling love for your home team. The shrieking, leaping joy of a touchdown and the gut-wrenching pain of viewing a season-ending injury. The pulse-pounding euphoria of a hard-earned win, and the dispiriting melancholy of a lost championship.
Every single facet of the game is filled with passion, and that's why I love it. And to top it off there's the spectacle of bulging muscles and sculpted butts in skintight pants.
Oops, is that the real reason I watch football? Nawwww, not me.
