On the End of Football

It appears that Junior Seau’s suicide has sparked a rash of renewed interest on the topic of “The End of Football.” John Gruber links to an article at Grantland and an older piece in the New Yorker. Of the two, the New Yorker piece is by far the more interesting, talking about incidents of head trauma in boxing and football. Mainly football. The Grantland piece basically says the that football will eventually be sued into oblivion. I’ve also seen other blog posts discussing the general topic of football eventually becoming extinct.

Certainly it’s plausible. As a parent, reading the above linked article about head trauma, it certainly gives me pause. The boy had become much more interested in football this past year. Really, the first time he’d shown any interest in it. He’s asked a lot of questions about playing football and, if I were to guess right now, he expects the opportunity to play some day. Assuming there’s a program available, he’ll get his chance.

Of all the scenarios discussed, the liability angle seems the most likely to bring about the end of football as we know it. In particular, I can see a concerted effort backed by medical research that results in high school football slowly being eliminated. Followed by the college game. At that point, assuming football maintains it’s current form, the NFL will have to sink money into some kind of farm system. When that happens, the quality of play will drop off because the money will be drying up and the top athletes will no longer want to play football. Perhaps it swings back to baseball. Or maybe US soccer gets a big shot in the arm.

Mind you, I’m not predicting that end. I’m just saying it won’t surprise me. As a society, we’ve become extremely risk averse. In particular, our intellectual leaders (aka: pundits of all stripes) don’t have much tolerance for it. The safe thing to do is not play football. And really, who could argue?

But if that day were to come to pass, it will be a sorry day. What football players do, at the college and especially the pro level, is not something that just anyone can do. Sure, hitting is a part of the game (BTW- I refuse to use the word “violent’ regarding football. Violence is senseless, chaotic and brutal. Violence is getting beaten on the street, or worse. Football is not violent.) But it’s only part of the game. Watch a running back follow his blockers down the field reading the blocks and seeing his lanes; watch a quarterback throw a 35 yard laser on a deep crossing pattern to a receiver perfectly in stride; watch a defensive lineman charge full speed 10 yards upfield, and then turn around and spring in the other direction and still make a tackle, all in less than 4 seconds. That stuff isn’t just luck. It isn’t something that can be duplicated by a bunch of guys playing touch football.

Football players aren’t just ordinary people. They’re men who have committed themselves to something and made themselves the very best at what they do. Sure, a bunch of guys can go out on a Saturday and play flag football. Someone might even do something noteworthy, like make a long run or catch a pass. Maybe that guy gets bragging rights for the weekend. But he pales in comparison to the guys we watch on Saturday and Sunday. That weekend hero can’t even get on the same field as those guys.

There’s glory waiting for the athlete that chooses to go there, where lesser beings fear to tread. As long as they continue to do so, people will watch them if only to see how far he can make it, to be amazed at what can be. They’ll watch just based on the slimmest of hopes that they’ll see something they’ve never seen before, be it a big hit, a one handed grab, or a winning touchdown as time expires.

Yes, there’s a price to be paid. But it’s the athlete’s choice, not the pundits and their medical studies.