The most popular entertainment in America. Controversial. Controlled violence, unparalleled grace, heroic effort, bullies and villains, powerhouses and underdogs, inspiring stories. Lovers and haters.
The tenuous connection between the players and the teams. The stars and the unsung workhorses. Brute effort and relentless dedication versus millions of dollars and flashy lifestyles. The tenuous connection between the teams and their followers--the question of whether the teams represent, or play for the impassioned fans of their cities.
Sports.
I watched my team, the Fighting Irish, lose completely to the Crimson Tide of Alabama in the College Football National Championship last week. What to say? That our undefeated regular season was something to be proud of? That it was an accomplishment to make it to the National Championship game? That it augurs well for next season?
No.
Those things are true. Such sentiments indicate the first great gift Sports has to give, hope. The promise of possibility. So I am not bitter--rather, I'm proud of my team for their accomplishments. And I tell them, thanks. Thanks for the work, the heart, the class.
But the game is over. No words can erase the loss, or mitigate it. I wouldn't want them to. There is something totally pure about Sports in that there is only one thing that matters, and it is now. This play. What happens in this moment. What actually happens may not be pure--it may be ungraceful, poorly executed, or unsportsmanlike. But that it, and only it, matters... That is pure.
Sports is about the eternal present on the field, in the play, among the players. It is authentically objective, even if the objective fact is obscured by the speed of execution. It is an allegory of the human experience, where the past may inspire or may goad, the future is the stuff of dreams and nightmares, but the present is all that matters. Is it positive or negative? Does it achieve or fail? Does it advance the cause or not? Whatever the answer, it matters.
This moment matters. This moment begs us, like each minute of play, in each sport, to rise to the occasion. Each moment is a chance to shine, to anticipate and focus, to do something that answers the call of that moment.
And now that game is in the books. A new moment is upon us. How do we respond to this moment?
Sports arouses us. Brings us in. Illustrates the manifest importance of each moment. We hope our sports avatars meet each moment well--perhaps perfectly. But they are just avatars. Their successes are not ours, and neither are their failures. They only represent what we want for ourselves.
So how do we meet our moments?
Showing posts with label Football. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Football. Show all posts
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Yes, Virginia, America does have a sport as wonderful as soccer
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.
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.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Reflections on the holidays and on college football
It has been a long hiatus. Like everyone else in the United States, except apparently the football bloggers, I was caught up with end-of-the-year tasks, holiday travel, and (let us not forget) the holidays themselves.
Speaking of the holidays, I will say that I am getting a little tired of all the righteous indignation I hear about the "over-commercialization" and the political correctness of the holidays. It makes me angry, sure, to hear sacred hymns re-written as sales jingles, or to see the holidays represented as incomplete without a new car or a piece of jewelry, but I have long since resigned myself to the fact that entities with a product to sell will do anything they can to sell it. There is very little respect left for traditions or ethics. I am a pretty serious Catholic, and I am accustomed to celebrate Christmas and Easter (and several other holy days) in my own way. Furthermore, Christmas is about "peace on earth, goodwill to men" (cf. Luke 2:14), and I don't see how forcibly stated criticisms are in keeping with that statement. Let everyone else celebrate their non-religious, pagan Yule holiday. I'm just glad that it still includes a spirit of generosity and benevolence.
I celebrated one of the best Christmases I can remember, for those interested. Last year my sister, now a nun, was unable to come home; this year her attendendance made all our holiday cheer glow a little brighter. It was a busy time--mass on Christmas eve, family over for Christmas, travel to see family the day after Christmas, an a pre-New Year's party on the 28th. As there wasn't much time for anything except socializing with loved ones, my memories of Christmas 2007 will be filled with people instead of errands, things, food, and so on. And, for the first time I can remember, we had snow on Christmas day.
I spent much of my free time these last three weeks watching and agonizing over college football. For the first time in my life I entered a bowl-pick'em with my co-workers, and I was surprised to find that I did all right. But I cannot say that anything about this bowl season was fun or entertaining. I confess I am rather fond of the ranking/bowl system, if only because a playoff doesn't necessarily guarantee the two best teams play (a mediocre team with a couple of good games could advance to the title game, and a great team could stumble once and be completely out), and the playoff system marginalizes the regular season. I know, I know--anything but a playoff is subjective and therefore unfair. True. I concede that. However, I recognize that the ranking system attempts to put the best team up as the champion, regardless of (perhaps) a stumble along the way. Also, I enjoy the regular season--you often see two high-ranked teams face each other September, in a game that will have serious bowl repercussions. Also, upsets mean a lot more when they knock a team out of contention.
I know these are weak arguments. For a playoff system to be even remotely just it would have to include high-ranked teams even though they may not be their conference champions. And rankings mean that the regular season matters. For my alma mater, Notre Dame, to be even considered for a spot in the playoffs, it would have to earn a high ranking, presumably by beating quality teams consistently during the regular season. And so I also concede that a limited play-off system of eight or 16 teams is not only workable, but also not detrimental to the character of college football. Like every other college football fan, I have a plan in mind.
Between the last weekend in August and the last weekend in November there are 14 weekends, enough for a 12-game schedule with two bye weeks. The first weekend in December would be devoted to conference championship games, the second weekend would be off (for finals and such), and the third weekend would start the playoff. Sixteen teams would be included. They would play over the next four weekends, extending into the second weekend of January. It is a slightly longer season, sure...but that means more money for the college football networks, the conferences, and the schools who participate. And we get to watch more football. It's really win-win.
How to choose the 16 teams, though? a simple answer would be to take the six BCS conference champions and the ten highest-ranked teams who are not BCS conference champions. Though we saw some good football from non-BCS conference teams over the last several years, perhaps leading some to suggest that the playoff include the 12 conference champions, I think that by and large the top 3 teams of a BCS conference such as the SEC, the Pac 10, or the Big 10 are generally better than even the champion of a non BCS conference. I therefore reject that proposition (we don't want our playoff games to be meaningless blowouts). I personally don't like conferences at all, and would rather simply have the top sixteen ranked teams play, but since TV and bowl contracts are tied to conferences these days, I don't see how it's avoidable to pay them some lip service (despite the fact that a top-16 slate in any year is likely to include members from all six BCS conferences). In any case, non-BCS teams and non conference champions would be equally fighting for a high ranking and a chance to make the playoffs. Hence big match-ups during the regular season would still be important, and teams who schedule inferior opponents (like Ohio State's 2007 season) could still be punished in favor of teams who play a harder schedule (like USC this year).
But what shall we call these fifteen playoff games? nobody cares, probably except the marketers of the current BCS bowls. Yet the beauty of this system is that the Sugar Bowl, the Rose Bowl, the Fiesta Bowl, and the Orange bowl could split the round of four, consisting of two games on the first weekend in January, and the round of eight, consisting of four games on the last weekend in December, between them, allowing at least the Rose bowl to be scheduled on New Years' day, which falls between the last weekend in December and the first weekend in January--and they can also then keep their precious Rose parade. And, if the Rose bowl would suffer itself to be always part of the round of eight teams, it would be extremely likely that the organizers could schedule a Pac 10/Big 10 match-up (this could even hold true for some of the other bowls). The other two games in the round of eight could be occupied by other worthy bowl games, such as the Cotton bowl or the Gator bowl. The round of sixteen (eight games) could be filled by other, lesser, bowls, and the National Championship game would be just that, with no fancy name required. The marketers would get their piece of the pie, the bowl games would be sufficiently important in the grand scheme of things--they would certainly be big games!--and we would all get to see a team crowned national champion in a reasonably non-subjective way. I say "reasonably," because the ranking system is subjective, though taking (theoretically) the top 16 teams would largely equalize the subjectivity.
It's a pipe dream, I'm sure. But it would at least prevent much of the grumbling and discontent at this most recent college season. You can also check out similar opinions from the Wizard of Odds and Larry Brown.
Speaking of the holidays, I will say that I am getting a little tired of all the righteous indignation I hear about the "over-commercialization" and the political correctness of the holidays. It makes me angry, sure, to hear sacred hymns re-written as sales jingles, or to see the holidays represented as incomplete without a new car or a piece of jewelry, but I have long since resigned myself to the fact that entities with a product to sell will do anything they can to sell it. There is very little respect left for traditions or ethics. I am a pretty serious Catholic, and I am accustomed to celebrate Christmas and Easter (and several other holy days) in my own way. Furthermore, Christmas is about "peace on earth, goodwill to men" (cf. Luke 2:14), and I don't see how forcibly stated criticisms are in keeping with that statement. Let everyone else celebrate their non-religious, pagan Yule holiday. I'm just glad that it still includes a spirit of generosity and benevolence.
I celebrated one of the best Christmases I can remember, for those interested. Last year my sister, now a nun, was unable to come home; this year her attendendance made all our holiday cheer glow a little brighter. It was a busy time--mass on Christmas eve, family over for Christmas, travel to see family the day after Christmas, an a pre-New Year's party on the 28th. As there wasn't much time for anything except socializing with loved ones, my memories of Christmas 2007 will be filled with people instead of errands, things, food, and so on. And, for the first time I can remember, we had snow on Christmas day.
I spent much of my free time these last three weeks watching and agonizing over college football. For the first time in my life I entered a bowl-pick'em with my co-workers, and I was surprised to find that I did all right. But I cannot say that anything about this bowl season was fun or entertaining. I confess I am rather fond of the ranking/bowl system, if only because a playoff doesn't necessarily guarantee the two best teams play (a mediocre team with a couple of good games could advance to the title game, and a great team could stumble once and be completely out), and the playoff system marginalizes the regular season. I know, I know--anything but a playoff is subjective and therefore unfair. True. I concede that. However, I recognize that the ranking system attempts to put the best team up as the champion, regardless of (perhaps) a stumble along the way. Also, I enjoy the regular season--you often see two high-ranked teams face each other September, in a game that will have serious bowl repercussions. Also, upsets mean a lot more when they knock a team out of contention.
I know these are weak arguments. For a playoff system to be even remotely just it would have to include high-ranked teams even though they may not be their conference champions. And rankings mean that the regular season matters. For my alma mater, Notre Dame, to be even considered for a spot in the playoffs, it would have to earn a high ranking, presumably by beating quality teams consistently during the regular season. And so I also concede that a limited play-off system of eight or 16 teams is not only workable, but also not detrimental to the character of college football. Like every other college football fan, I have a plan in mind.
Between the last weekend in August and the last weekend in November there are 14 weekends, enough for a 12-game schedule with two bye weeks. The first weekend in December would be devoted to conference championship games, the second weekend would be off (for finals and such), and the third weekend would start the playoff. Sixteen teams would be included. They would play over the next four weekends, extending into the second weekend of January. It is a slightly longer season, sure...but that means more money for the college football networks, the conferences, and the schools who participate. And we get to watch more football. It's really win-win.
How to choose the 16 teams, though? a simple answer would be to take the six BCS conference champions and the ten highest-ranked teams who are not BCS conference champions. Though we saw some good football from non-BCS conference teams over the last several years, perhaps leading some to suggest that the playoff include the 12 conference champions, I think that by and large the top 3 teams of a BCS conference such as the SEC, the Pac 10, or the Big 10 are generally better than even the champion of a non BCS conference. I therefore reject that proposition (we don't want our playoff games to be meaningless blowouts). I personally don't like conferences at all, and would rather simply have the top sixteen ranked teams play, but since TV and bowl contracts are tied to conferences these days, I don't see how it's avoidable to pay them some lip service (despite the fact that a top-16 slate in any year is likely to include members from all six BCS conferences). In any case, non-BCS teams and non conference champions would be equally fighting for a high ranking and a chance to make the playoffs. Hence big match-ups during the regular season would still be important, and teams who schedule inferior opponents (like Ohio State's 2007 season) could still be punished in favor of teams who play a harder schedule (like USC this year).
But what shall we call these fifteen playoff games? nobody cares, probably except the marketers of the current BCS bowls. Yet the beauty of this system is that the Sugar Bowl, the Rose Bowl, the Fiesta Bowl, and the Orange bowl could split the round of four, consisting of two games on the first weekend in January, and the round of eight, consisting of four games on the last weekend in December, between them, allowing at least the Rose bowl to be scheduled on New Years' day, which falls between the last weekend in December and the first weekend in January--and they can also then keep their precious Rose parade. And, if the Rose bowl would suffer itself to be always part of the round of eight teams, it would be extremely likely that the organizers could schedule a Pac 10/Big 10 match-up (this could even hold true for some of the other bowls). The other two games in the round of eight could be occupied by other worthy bowl games, such as the Cotton bowl or the Gator bowl. The round of sixteen (eight games) could be filled by other, lesser, bowls, and the National Championship game would be just that, with no fancy name required. The marketers would get their piece of the pie, the bowl games would be sufficiently important in the grand scheme of things--they would certainly be big games!--and we would all get to see a team crowned national champion in a reasonably non-subjective way. I say "reasonably," because the ranking system is subjective, though taking (theoretically) the top 16 teams would largely equalize the subjectivity.
It's a pipe dream, I'm sure. But it would at least prevent much of the grumbling and discontent at this most recent college season. You can also check out similar opinions from the Wizard of Odds and Larry Brown.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
An historically bad season
Notre Dame football is making a lot of people happy by the season it is having. Zero and five for the first time in history? how the mighty have fallen. Certainly one would expect ND to do better, after all they hold the most national championships and heisman trophies, and the second-best winning percentage. They have been a major heavyweight on the college football landscape for nearly a hundred years.
Notre Dame fans are trying to deal with this bitter autumn. Some seek a pound of flesh: after watching the Irish lose to Michigan State two weeks ago, one fan struck up a conversation with me where he declared several times that Charlie Weis, our head coach, "has got to go." ESPN agrees--and has pointed out smugly that since ND fired Willingham after three years, surely Weis should (in a fair world) be given the same treatment. This is natural. But I think it is the wrong approach, given that Charlie has a historically inexperienced team. The reasons for and consequences of which are explained very well here. Certainly ND has shown some promise on the gridiron, successfully excecuting long passes, good runs, and solid defence. The consistency required to win football games--and eliminating penalties--will come with more experience. I am far from despair about the state of the Fighting Irish.
It is more disturbing, however, to find that some Irish fans are developing indifference. They have stopped watching or even following the games, perhaps as a way to insulate themselves from the disappointment of losing. That's understandable, but ultimately wrong. To my mind, we earn the right to be fans in the bad seasons. Solidarity is better developed through adversity and struggle than victory. Of course, one could argue that these fans are still supporting the team internally. But a great pope once said that love is mere sentimentality without sacrifice, and I think that "supporting a team" means making the sacrifice to follow the team, or at least continue to support them. To become indifferent is to abandon them.
Now I have made the argument before that we take football so seriously at Notre Dame because it represents everything we strive for at the university: excellence and righteousness. Though love and responsibility for a football team is far less important than most other obligations we contract during our lives, abandoning it when it ceases to be valuable, or pleasurable, or successful speaks poorly of our ability to support anything else we love. For us fans, Notre Dame should be our football team, win or lose. And when responding to any comments made about this terrible season--whether good-natured cracks to dark, sincere joy at our predicament--we should always make clear that we care deeply enough about this team to feel strongly disappointed (or excited, if fortune turns).
Notre Dame fans are trying to deal with this bitter autumn. Some seek a pound of flesh: after watching the Irish lose to Michigan State two weeks ago, one fan struck up a conversation with me where he declared several times that Charlie Weis, our head coach, "has got to go." ESPN agrees--and has pointed out smugly that since ND fired Willingham after three years, surely Weis should (in a fair world) be given the same treatment. This is natural. But I think it is the wrong approach, given that Charlie has a historically inexperienced team. The reasons for and consequences of which are explained very well here. Certainly ND has shown some promise on the gridiron, successfully excecuting long passes, good runs, and solid defence. The consistency required to win football games--and eliminating penalties--will come with more experience. I am far from despair about the state of the Fighting Irish.
It is more disturbing, however, to find that some Irish fans are developing indifference. They have stopped watching or even following the games, perhaps as a way to insulate themselves from the disappointment of losing. That's understandable, but ultimately wrong. To my mind, we earn the right to be fans in the bad seasons. Solidarity is better developed through adversity and struggle than victory. Of course, one could argue that these fans are still supporting the team internally. But a great pope once said that love is mere sentimentality without sacrifice, and I think that "supporting a team" means making the sacrifice to follow the team, or at least continue to support them. To become indifferent is to abandon them.
Now I have made the argument before that we take football so seriously at Notre Dame because it represents everything we strive for at the university: excellence and righteousness. Though love and responsibility for a football team is far less important than most other obligations we contract during our lives, abandoning it when it ceases to be valuable, or pleasurable, or successful speaks poorly of our ability to support anything else we love. For us fans, Notre Dame should be our football team, win or lose. And when responding to any comments made about this terrible season--whether good-natured cracks to dark, sincere joy at our predicament--we should always make clear that we care deeply enough about this team to feel strongly disappointed (or excited, if fortune turns).
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Reflections on Week 2 of College Football 2007
Last Saturday, I watched Notre Dame get licked for the second straight week in a row by a talented Penn State team. That is hard for me. Since I became a fan in 2000 (at the hands of my rabid dorm comrades and authorities), I have learned that Notre Dame is a proud football program with a tradition of winning - and winning with class. This year I have been disappointed on both accounts. On the field, we look like what we are: an inexperienced, overmatched team. Though there are flashes of talent and promise, by and large we get dominated. Then there is the "class" issue. In both our games, a senior on our (inexperienced) team has committed an egregious personal foul. Against Georgia Tech, the player was rightfully ejected. Against Penn State, it was merely a 15-yard assessed penalty. Coach Weis should have benched the player. Notre Dame as a program should not stand for such actions from its players. I won't claim that Notre Dame is better than other schools--nobody has a monopoly on sportsmanship or moral righteousness. But Notre Dame certainly should uphold the standard.
As to the barely-concealed glee which Pat Forde at ESPN attacks ND again for sacking Tyrone Willingham, I think a little more reason is called for. ND fired Willingham after two straight bad seasons. I think the same courtesy (at least!) can be extended to Charlie Weis. Other blogs--notably Notes from the Geetar and Her Loyal Sons--have already pointed out that Willingham's teams were not improving, that Willingham was already talking to Washington about a head coaching job, that Willingham's recruiting was exceedingly poor, and many other reasons for changing coaches.
Michigan may yet turn their dismal season around. I suppose as a ND fan I should be thankful that a team is falling harder than we are...especially since Michigan is our nemesis. The football tragedy occurring in Ann Arbor illustrates that teamwork and personal effort are indispensible in football--it isn't only talent that wins. I hope ND takes note.
Finally, I found this article online today, detailing the appalling rudeness of Rutgers students toward Navy. The author already got on a pretty high horse about it (rightfully so!), so I won't. But disturbingly, this is only one of many stories I have heard about fans being downright vicious towards visiting opponents. The beauty of sports for me is that they are (theoretically) pure competition. They are a fantasy about how this combatative world of ours should be: everyone plays by the rules, so there is no doubt about the winner; each team-mate has the opportunity to play well and make a difference; and no amount of money or influence can buy a championship. Sports is never this pure in reality, of course--not when teams open against so-called cupcake opponents, nor when major-league players sell themselves to the highest bidder (just to name a few examples). Nevertheless, the pleasure of sports is clean competition, and the respect it engenders. It is juvenile, petty, and cruel to belittle opponent players, whether they are losing or winning. I won't claim that all ND fans have been similarly high-minded, or that all Rutgers fans are boors. I have been fortunate to meet mostly respectful and respectable fans in my travels. And that should be everybody's experience.
As to the barely-concealed glee which Pat Forde at ESPN attacks ND again for sacking Tyrone Willingham, I think a little more reason is called for. ND fired Willingham after two straight bad seasons. I think the same courtesy (at least!) can be extended to Charlie Weis. Other blogs--notably Notes from the Geetar and Her Loyal Sons--have already pointed out that Willingham's teams were not improving, that Willingham was already talking to Washington about a head coaching job, that Willingham's recruiting was exceedingly poor, and many other reasons for changing coaches.
Michigan may yet turn their dismal season around. I suppose as a ND fan I should be thankful that a team is falling harder than we are...especially since Michigan is our nemesis. The football tragedy occurring in Ann Arbor illustrates that teamwork and personal effort are indispensible in football--it isn't only talent that wins. I hope ND takes note.
Finally, I found this article online today, detailing the appalling rudeness of Rutgers students toward Navy. The author already got on a pretty high horse about it (rightfully so!), so I won't. But disturbingly, this is only one of many stories I have heard about fans being downright vicious towards visiting opponents. The beauty of sports for me is that they are (theoretically) pure competition. They are a fantasy about how this combatative world of ours should be: everyone plays by the rules, so there is no doubt about the winner; each team-mate has the opportunity to play well and make a difference; and no amount of money or influence can buy a championship. Sports is never this pure in reality, of course--not when teams open against so-called cupcake opponents, nor when major-league players sell themselves to the highest bidder (just to name a few examples). Nevertheless, the pleasure of sports is clean competition, and the respect it engenders. It is juvenile, petty, and cruel to belittle opponent players, whether they are losing or winning. I won't claim that all ND fans have been similarly high-minded, or that all Rutgers fans are boors. I have been fortunate to meet mostly respectful and respectable fans in my travels. And that should be everybody's experience.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
ND home opener, 2007
Better men and women than I have already commented on Notre Dame's drubbing at the hands of Georgia Tech yesterday. Their comments appear on their own blogs, found on the links to the right of this page. There is no question that yesterday was a grave dissapointment.
Recently accused of being a "delusional Notre Dame fan" and of making excuses for my team, I will state categorically that we were beat. We were outplayed on offense and defense. We made crucial mistakes. Georgia Tech was without question the better team.
But I feel that there are some distinct reasons that we played so poorly. We are a largely inexperienced team. This is no doubt the explanation of (but never an excuse for) the two lost fumbles, the nine sacks, the many negative-yardage plays, and the missed blocking assignments. Our defense, which had a promising start after forcing Tech into field goal attempts on their first three drives (one of which they blocked), slowly fell apart under the strain of Tech's long drawn-out rushing attack. And I think the optimism in South Bend these last few weeks meant that Notre Dame players came into the game ever so slightly cocky, which only made them more demoralized as the score mounted and their futile offense sputtered.
There is a silver lining. Both Sharpley and Clausen, our second- and third-string quarterbacks, played well (though Sharpley looked hesitant at times), and our young running backs look very talented. And our defense looked much improved from last year. But there is no question that we showed ourselves a bad football team yesterday. I earnestly hope that our coaches and players learn from our embarassing display and come out with a sounder team next week against ranked Penn State.
I salute Georgia Tech. They played with poise, precision, and energy. I hope they win the ACC and contend in a BCS bowl game (perhaps even the National Championship). As for Notre Dame, they are still my team - and I will proudly display my support by wearing a ND T-shirt today. Though disappointed, I look forward to next week.
Recently accused of being a "delusional Notre Dame fan" and of making excuses for my team, I will state categorically that we were beat. We were outplayed on offense and defense. We made crucial mistakes. Georgia Tech was without question the better team.
But I feel that there are some distinct reasons that we played so poorly. We are a largely inexperienced team. This is no doubt the explanation of (but never an excuse for) the two lost fumbles, the nine sacks, the many negative-yardage plays, and the missed blocking assignments. Our defense, which had a promising start after forcing Tech into field goal attempts on their first three drives (one of which they blocked), slowly fell apart under the strain of Tech's long drawn-out rushing attack. And I think the optimism in South Bend these last few weeks meant that Notre Dame players came into the game ever so slightly cocky, which only made them more demoralized as the score mounted and their futile offense sputtered.
There is a silver lining. Both Sharpley and Clausen, our second- and third-string quarterbacks, played well (though Sharpley looked hesitant at times), and our young running backs look very talented. And our defense looked much improved from last year. But there is no question that we showed ourselves a bad football team yesterday. I earnestly hope that our coaches and players learn from our embarassing display and come out with a sounder team next week against ranked Penn State.
I salute Georgia Tech. They played with poise, precision, and energy. I hope they win the ACC and contend in a BCS bowl game (perhaps even the National Championship). As for Notre Dame, they are still my team - and I will proudly display my support by wearing a ND T-shirt today. Though disappointed, I look forward to next week.
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