Often the athleticism of American Football Players has been called into question. Critics usually claim they are "oversized" or (more succinctly) "overweight." The validity of the sport has been maligned by derisive claims that the players wear pads and helmets, whereas in the similar sport of Rugby they do not. Often I hear such accusations from trendy, condescending types who seemingly wish to distance themselves from what they clearly regard as a "barbaric" sport--no doubt better suited to big dumb oxen or preternaturally fast runners, and (I suspect) usually those from, ahem, rural parts of the country. Civilized people, perhaps, join the rest of the world in adulation of soccer. Or tennis. Or golf. All of this muttering is becoming louder in these days of the 2010 World Cup of soccer, played in South Africa.
But make no mistake: not even the media obsession of international footballers amid the hue and cry of the World Cup coverage can disguise the fact that there are no athletes in the world like those that play American football. They are unbelievably quick, even at more than 300 pounds; they jump incredibly high, and they have the kind of hand-eye coordination and balance that allows them not only to keep their feet while being hit or pushed by 1200-odd pounds of force, but to to divert that weight from the quarterback or runner they're protecting (and no, I'm not exaggerating that number--that's the force of two tackles who can each squat more than 600 pounds). And those are just the linemen. I haven't even gotten started on the so-called "skill positions" that can throw a ball to and catch it from a precise spot in the sky at a precise time in the play, or that can change direction and accelerate to avoid tackles so gracefully. Or the complicated deception tactics that are used to get the ball moving forward, or the teamwork showcased when linemen, tight ends, and receivers sacrifice their bodies to protect the ball-carrier downfield. Or the heart that after an hour of explosive play in bitterly cold (or brutally hot) temperatures can still bind aching muscle and bruised limbs to a player's will for one more bit of magic and maybe six more points.
As for the presence of pads, well, I tend to look at sports through the lens of Lacrosse, which I played briefly but with moderate success in high school. There were hard hits during that game, but after 10 years of focus on American Football, with about six weeks of comparative study of Australian-Rules Football and rugby during a brief stint down under, I will say that the dynamic and fluid struggle on a rugby field are no where near as violent or injurious as the static collision along the line in a football game. I've never seen a rugby player slam directly into another as would a tailback and linebacker colliding full-tilt into each other between the tackles on the line, or as would a wide receiver and safety both chasing the same ball from opposite sides of the field, or as would a nose guard and two tackles at the snap of the ball. It's possible, of course, that I missed the "greatest hits" reel from comparable sports, but until I see it I'll remain skeptical. There's nothing wimpy about American football, and the pads are a necessity to prevent broken collarbones and ribs. And believe me I know that soccer is a contact sport along with all the rest of my list.
I doubt, certainly, that many American football players could hang for a 90-minute game of soccer; nor am I demeaning the skill, intelligence, endurance, execution, and heart required to compete on the soccer pitch. But whatever one's preferences are regarding sports, I don't think a reasonable person could deny that at least as much athleticism is required of American football players as is required of soccer players. I'll throw Lacrosse, Hockey, and (yes) Rugby into the same category.
I'm aware that some dreamy or critical Americans have also foolishly wished that we these United States had some sport that could capture our imagination the way soccer so apparently captures the world. They fail to realize, of course, that the shrines of American Football--Notre Dame Stadium, Tuscaloosa, Lambeau Field, Soldier Field, the Meadowlands, The Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party in the World, Cowboy Stadium, The Rose Bowl--bear witness every weekend in fall and wintertime to the fact that Americans love their American football as much as anybody loves another sport. One only need look at the whiteout in happy valley, or the terrible towel, or the 11th man (both in College Station and in Seattle) to see the same level of excitement now oriented from around the world at South Africa. Not even the glitz and commercialism of events like the Super Bowl and the National Championship Game can dim their luster in the eyes of those who make those contests some of the most-watched television events...ever.
The rest of the world can't see the wonder in this wonderful game of American Football, but that doesn't mean it isn't there. And while I have gained much respect and affection towards the fine and noble sport of soccer this World Cup 2010, there is nothing that will ever equal the enchantment of a Saturday gameday in autumn.
