NFL

The Dead Zone

(Originally posted in the Stratford Star and Fairfield Sun newspapers on January 12, 2012, in my  “Walsh’s Wonderings” column.)

The final verse of James Watson’s 1711 lyrics for what we know as “Auld Lang Syne” perfectly captures the sentiments of football fanatics the world over at this time of year:

Since thoughts of thee doth banish grief, when from thee I am gone;
will not thy presence yield relief, to this sad Heart of mine.
Why doth thy presence me defeat, with excellence divine?
Especially when I reflect on auld lang syne.

Football widows might notice the dead eyes of their spouses as fantasy football players mourn the loss of the beloved game-day buffet known as the NFL Red Zone channel. While some might not be familiar with the real-time highlight show that rivets their loved ones to their TVs for seven straight hours each Sunday, they’ll probably notice the sad, restless clicking of remote controls from the living room couch. If lucky, they might even notice some chores getting done.

What began in 2005 as part of DIRECTV’s NFL Sunday Ticket package became available to other cable subscribers in 2009, mostly as part of an additional tier (Public service announcement: time to cancel that tier until next season, guys). The channel cuts back and forth between games each time a team enters the “red zone” inside its opponent’s 20-yard line. It’s as if a Jedi master has taken your remote: no commercials, no timeouts, no “down time.” The channel often splits the screen to show two or even four games at once in a dizzying ballet of violence. It’s a game even soccer fans from across the Pond could appreciate.

What really catapulted the popularity of the channel is the abundance of real-time statistics and injury information throughout the afternoon. While unabashedly perfect for the gambler, it’s taken root among fantasy footballers everywhere. Fantasy football leagues allow an “owner” to “draft” players and tally up their statistics each week while squaring off against another owner. As a result, those active in fantasy football leagues are like hobbits every Sunday, huddled in front of whatever statistics they can cobble together from web sites or highlight shows. The Red Zone channel saves them from the agony of having to wait that extra one or two minutes for information on the latest scoring play.

Anyone who’s ever run a fantasy football team knows it’s like having a second job, and keeping up with your players’ stats is akin to tracking the stock market just before the closing bell. Because there are no commercials, no promos, no breaks in the action before switching to the next game, a seven-hour slate of games can easily steal the most productive hours of the day from the unwitting viewer. Like many vices, it becomes addictive; as more and more cable companies offer their packages for streaming to cell phones, no fall wedding will ever be safe from covert updates again. Not since Ronald Reagan decided to leave Bonzo and enter politics has fantasy had such an impact on reality

Of course, this type of immediate gratification comes at a cost. In giving us the television equivalent of a sandwich with the crusts cut off, it encourages the celebration of individual players rather than the fostering of loyalty to any one team. A die-hard Miami Dolphin fan since birth, even I found myself clicking away from their latest blowout loss in order to catch the more competitive games on Red Zone. Growing up, I was often inconsolable after a loss; now, I simply move on to check out whether my fantasy team is winning. In short, it takes the fanaticism out of being a fan, and that just might signal the eventual decline of America’s most popular sport.

Still, it’s hard to fight progress without seeming like an old codger. I try to explain to my students how, before the age of ESPN and endless highlight shows, we actually had to watch the games to find out if our favorite team won. They look upon me with pity, as if I were extolling the virtues of rural electrification or disco. In an age where I can get email notifications of breaking news from around the world moments after it occurs, I might have to forget my outdated notions of the game I’ve always loved. Maybe I should more fully embrace James Watson’s advice from a time even before leather helmets:

Should Old Acquaintance be forgot, and never thought upon;
The flames of Love extinguished, and fully past and gone.

May happiness and health knock on the door of your home in 2012. As for me, I’ll have to remember to keep the volume down if the games are on.

Continue ReadingThe Dead Zone

“Using Our Heads”

(Originally posted in the Stratford Star newspaper on October 28, 2010, in “Walsh’s Wonderings”)

It’s not hard to see the impact of the NFL on Stratford during a crisp autumn night under the lights. As Stratford High took on Pomperaug last Friday, the jerseys of the New York Giants, Jets, and Patriots were sprinkled liberally throughout the stands amid Devil red. Football has replaced baseball as America’s pastime, and I’m sure every young man on that field (like most of us in the stands) has dreamed of what it would be like to play in the NFL.

However, a spate of vicious hits on defenseless players has rocked the football world in the last week. Several players were barely able to walk off the field in NFL games, victims of helmet-to-helmet collisions and the concussions that followed. The NFL responded quickly with a crackdown on illegal hits through the stricter enforcement of existing rules designed to protect players most vulnerable to these life-altering hits.

Normally, this would be heartening news, as rule changes and extra provisions for player safety inevitably trickle all the way down to the level of peewee football. Unfortunately, the very players this renewed enforcement is designed to protect are its most vocal critics.

Former Denver Broncos tight end Mark Schlereth screams on ESPN, “Why not just lose the pads and play touch football?” Respected coaches like Mike Ditka bemoan the missed tackles that will result, then ruminate on the possibility of increased knee injuries as players aim lower. Even former players like Daniel Morgan, a linebacker forced from the game due to repeated concussions in 2007, rail against the stiffer penalties for the same hits that hastened his early retirement.

They are unanimous in their refrain: That’s just the way football is played. We shouldn’t penalize players for doing what they were taught to do. These same plays are celebrated on highlights and in team meetings with the coaches. In a split second, you have to rely on instinct. James Harrison, the 2008 NFL Defensive Player of the Year, is the current poster boy of those who feel the NFL has gone too far, turning the game we love into flag football. Of course, in less than eight minutes last Sunday, Harrison knocked two players out of the game with concussions after aiming at their necks and heads, then made post-game comments that he tries to hurt, not injure, opponents because it increases the Steelers’ chances of winning. The next day, he threatened to retire because of the new penalties that he played a major role in instituting.

Do it, Mr. Harrison—I dare you. You signed a six-year, $51.175 million contract after the 2008 season, and I’d love to see you take your high school diploma and try to make up the rest of that money while the rest of the NFL moves out its dark ages. The game cannot be hijacked by knuckle-draggers who view head injuries as a rite of passage. These are elite athletes. If they can’t manage to stay away from someone’s head on a tackle, find someone who possesses the talent to do so. Like the institution of the helmet itself in 1941, it won’t take away from the violence of the game as much as prevent that violence from needlessly taking someone’s life.

I admit that I have selfish reasons for hoping the NFL maintains its hard line: as a teacher, I’d like the brains I instruct at school to continue working into adulthood. A middle school student once shared how his parents were scrambling to find another doctor to write off his latest concussion so he could get back on the field. “We’re going to buy some kind of expensive helmet so they’ll get off my back,” he said. He figured it was his third concussion, but he hadn’t told anyone about the first, nor the neck pain that had been bothering him for weeks. I hope he saw a different game last week that didn’t get as much press, a game where Rutgers defensive tackle Eric LeGrand was paralyzed when he rammed the top of his helmet into an opposing player during a kickoff.

The truth is that the NFL’s attempt to protect its players truly does affect our kids, and the culture has to change at every level in order for player safety to be taken seriously. The NFL’s impact on Stratford must not come from the top of a helmet; one hopes they will use their heads before some of our kids lose theirs on a senseless hit.

Continue Reading“Using Our Heads”