(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.
