Y’know, let’s talk about religion first. I think that will make people less angry.
I’m on board with people engaging in whatever wacky religions they choose. I think there’s something fishy about the way children are raised with certain religious ideas, kind of forced to engage in them before they’re old enough to make their own decisions. But whatever. What can you do? Some people wear bonnets, some people teach their kids it’s cool to slam a Dew at 1 AM on a Monday.
The one thing I’m not cool with is when you bring your religion to me in a way where I have to actively turn you down.
A couple weeks ago, I was in the grocery store shopping, and two different groups of young people approached me and asked if I wanted to join their Bible study. I turned down the first one very nicely, and the second, I said “Nope”, kept walking, and didn’t respond to the follow-up questions, the same questions asked by the first group. Get some walkie-talkies and coordinate, fools.
I’m fine with the fact that there are like a hundred churches in this neighborhood and no decent spots for groceries, but I’m not cool with people ringing the doorbell and asking if I’ve heard about Jesus. Yes, I’ve heard about Jesus. Chances are, if I have the wherewithal to be indoors in a place that I rent or own, I’ve heard of Jesus. Jesus is like the most famous person ever. I’m sorry to break the news, but you’re not telling me something shocking when you tell me about Jesus.
I’m fine with someone quietly placing a Bible in hotel rooms. I’m not fine with people aggressively handing out those tiny, cheapass Bibles, person-to-person.
I feel like religions totally have the right to exist, and I’d just like to be extended the same courtesy. Recognize that I have the right to exist too. I’m aware of you. We all are. We will come to you if we have a change of heart, okay?
Maybe a better example is Girl Scout Cookies. I’m cool with being asked, as I go in the grocery store, “Would you like to buy some cookies?” I don’t really eat cookies, and I don’t really care to buy them, but I’ll always stop and say, “No, thank you, but thanks for asking.”
But if you get asked in three different spots on the same day, it’s not the individual Girl Scout’s fault, but boy does it get annoying. If Girl Scout season ran half the year, fuck me, I’d probably just buy a box and carry it around as a decoy box so I could just hold it up and be like, “Sorry, dude, already got me some.”
Alright, last comparison. Beyonce. I did not like that Beyonce song about putting a ring on it. And the thing is, disliking a Beyonce song is a tough row, because you will hear that song. At Target, at a bar, at any kind of social function where there’s music. If you don’t hear it TWICE at a wedding, something’s gone wrong.
I mean, what can you do? I recognize other people like it. I think it’s crazy that we have to hear the same half-dozen songs SO MUCH. Do people not have enough access to this song that it has to be happening in the grocery store? Couldn’t they at least play the album straight through? I like Nirvana, but fuck me, I don’t really need anyone to play Smells Like Teen Spirit for me again. I got it covered.
What I’m getting at here is that it’s not really up to you whether or not you hear Beyonce. The world has spoken, and you will hear Beyonce.
What I’m getting at with the Girl Scout Cookies is that there’s some level of annoyance that comes into regular life, and you have to just swallow that because, eh, it’s really not a big deal.
And with the churchy stuff, the point is that the more enmeshed we are with something, culturally, the more it’s accepted to be just a little obnoxious about it. I would probably be thought insane if I went door-to-door and told people about books I really liked.
Let’s bring it around to football.
I couldn’t tell you the last time I watched a Super Bowl. I do not care about football, regardless of the stakes of a given game, and I think the commercials are never all that hilarious. And so, I wasn’t going to watch today.
I worked on some stuff at home, went and had a coffee, went to the gymnasium at about half-time. All cool. And driving around town, it was amazing. It was like the Omega Man, the parts where the vampire weirdos are all inside. There were barely any cars on the streets. Honestly, it reminded me why I used to like the place I live better. When it was a smaller town, you could drive across in 10 minutes. It’s kinda sucky in some ways, but when it was small, it was pretty nice.
And tonight I went for a run. I’m on a totally deserted street, and I start seeing fireworks go off, and I hear horns honking all over. And a truck comes down the street, which is empty except for me, and from a good block away, they start honking. A girl leans out the window and yells “Go Broncos!”
I get back in my car to go home, and people are honking everywhere. I get back to my block and people are shouting “Go Broncos!” so fucking loud that you can hear them from inside the house. Over and over.
I understand he’s been put out of commission, but in my hometown, there was a guy who used to shoot an honest-to-god cannon whenever the Broncos scored a touchdown. The police had to explain to him why that wasn’t acceptable.
I work in a library, and on Fridays and weekends during Bronco season, we’re allowed to move outside the dress code and wear Broncos gear. A dress code that would not allow for a fashionable pair of jeans to be worn with a button-up shirt allows for us to wear the colors of our boys.
And it’s not any of these individuals that’s the problem. It’s not these instances, but what these instances encapsulate. The problem is, what’s a person to do if he doesn’t like football?
Because I don’t bring it up to people. I don’t complain about football. When people bring it up to me, I have no problem saying I’m not interested, but I don’t walk around in a sandwich board that says Fuck Football. I’d like to. Maybe next year…
We protect our religious sensibilities. Nobody will say that the workplace dress code can be changed if you wear a cross. We protect ourselves from being annoyed, to an extent. Nobody would blame me for being a little annoyed the third time in one day I was asked to buy cookies, plus they’re young girls trying to do something good. We’ve invented earbuds, and I walk around Target with them because I’m that weirdo now, but I can have some agency in not hearing Beyonce.
But if you want to be told you’re wrong for not liking something, tell people you don’t like football. That’s the fastest way ever to find out how wrong you are.
You’ll hear about how you must have been a pansy who couldn’t play football 20 years ago, and that must be why you don’t like it. You’ll hear about how you don’t have pride in your hometown. You’ll hear about how exciting the next match-up is going to be.
You’ll hear an army of people making excuses for a corrupt, awful, wife-beating, drug-abusing, rich, rich, rich rich corporation.
Last year the NFL made $7.24 billion dollars. There was a great article that put that into context:
- More than every Steven Spielberg movie ever at the box office, according to Box Office Mojo.
- The NFL could buy four space shuttles.
- 10 Pluto missions with enough left over to pay Peyton Manning to run them.
And crazy as that is, this was the worst part:
- Since 1997, American taxpayers have contributed a total of $4.7 billion for NFL stadiums.
But forget the NFL. What is your local high school spending? Here’s an article excerpt out of Chicago:
The expenses, meanwhile, are considerable. Coaching stipends can approach six figures for a large staff. Rosters often carry more than 100 boys, each of whom needs a helmet that costs around $250, shoulder pads that run about $150 and a uniform that goes for roughly $150. And many schools are replacing their grass fields with synthetic turf, an installation that can cost well over $1 million.
Then there are more exotic purchases, driven by competitive pressure. The End Zone Club, a football booster organization at Elmhurst’s York High School, bought a $7,000 DVD duplicator and a $2,500 computer and software package so the team’s coaches could carve up and distribute scouting video to their players, tipping them off to their opponents’ strategies.
“I would say at least 75 percent of the teams are doing something like that,” said Mike Kuhn, the club’s parent coordinator. “We try to do whatever we can to remain status quo and not go backward.”
As with all areas of education, funding for football varies widely. Homewood-Flossmoor, for example, budgeted about $133,000 for its program this year, while Morris, a school on the southwestern fringe of the Chicago area, budgeted $70,000. Taft, on Chicago’s Northwest Side, expects to spend only $11,000.
Another article about high school football in Texas talked about the tens of millions spent on stadiums.
The starting salary of a Chicago Public Schools teacher is $50,653. There are multiple, multiple schools that, every year, turn over enough money for football to pay 2 or 3 teachers.
Think about how many schools have football teams where you live. Think about how college football is the same thing on a larger scale.
Oh, and I rail and rail about this one. The NFL is a tax-exempt organization. Yep. That makes sense. NFL head Roger Goodell says that with some work, the NFL should be making $25 billion annually by 2027. And I guess that’s probably a hell of a lot easier when you don’t have to pay a dime in taxes, and when your workplace is built by taxpayer money.
Which is a weird position for me. Yes, I work in a public library. Yes, that’s funded by tax money.
What’s the difference?
Well, let’s start with the fact that you don’t have to pay to enter the library. It’s tax-payer funded, much like football stadiums, and it’s open for public use. Public money, public use. You don’t have to buy a season pass. You don’t get shittier books if you’re not willing to pay as much as your neighbor.
Also, we didn’t make anywhere NEAR $7.24 billion on our best year. If we did, holographic books for all!
And this is the other thing. If a football game lasts about 4 hours, let’s do some math. You’re waking hours on a weekend are about 30, right? 15 a day, give or take? So you’re spending 13% of your weekend time watching football. If you watch one game. If you skip everything else, if you don’t pay attention to highlights, no pre-game show, none of that shit.
How am I the crazy person for saying that I don’t want to spend 13% of the weekend watching a game? What other game do we watch this much? I watched an hour of Price is Right when I was home sick as a kid, and that was plenty.
I don’t even know what the point of this is. I’m afraid I’ve gotten off track. I think I just wanted to say that this is a big part of why football bothers me, and why I’m against it as a cultural institution. That and the health effects, which you can deny if you want. Maybe swing by Hallmark and buy Peyton Manning a Get Well Soon card for whenever he gets his hip replacement. Maybe you could read up about Junior Seau while you’re at it.
The thing is, I struggle to imagine a more destructive force, a more money-sapping force, a more time-sucking force, a more negative impact on the United States that we allow and promote. That we are excited about. That, when someone says there are problems with it, we call them idiots. We attack them.
And all I’m asking for is to be left out of it. I’m not even asking that it be torn down. That’d be great, but I’m old enough to know that’s not how things work. I’m just asking you, football fans, to keep it to your fucking self. Like religion, I’m well aware of football. Like cookies, I don’t want to have multiple conversations about it. Like Beyonce, I understand the appeal and don’t think you can convince me to enjoy it.
And please, I’m not attacking you as a person with what I’m saying. I know football is important to you, and I know it’s hard when things that are important to you aren’t important to other people. Believe me, I know. I watch a reality show where a Japanese man play video games. I listen to podcasts that talk about subjects people can’t even begin to feign interest for. I sit and write for hours every day in front of a computer. I know the pain of being deeply in love with something and feeling like you want to share that love.
But the thing is, when it comes to football, there are plenty of people that aren’t me to share your excitement with. Good N’ Plenty.
Post it on your Facebook. That’s fine. When I read that, it’s my fault. Have your friends over. Have parties. Talk to interested people about it. Go to a bar if that’s where you find friends to watch with. All that’s fine. All that’s great.
Maybe just consider not being a dick about it. Maybe reconsider whether it’s cool to fire a cannon whenever a touchdown is scored.
Maybe, when you see someone out for a run who clearly must not give a down-set-fuck about football, maybe just recognize that some people don’t care about this thing you care about, and leave him be.