The Whole Truth About Me and Football

I think that it is finally time, in light of past events, that I make it abundantly clear why I don't like football. In fact, I hate it. It's like coconut. You can't make me "learn" to like it. I don't like it. I just don't. Here is the deep-seated reasoning with some case examples, putting aside my school of choice and the rival school.

Growing up, I had a friend named George (name has been changed to protect the innocent.) He was very much into sports and the like, whereas I was not. I preferred to draw, make up adventures to play, and be imaginative. I come from a family where a certain team is cheered for, as both of my parents were alumni of that school. We will call them the University of Red. This team, however, isn't very popular in the neighborhood in which we live. The other University is the University of Blue... the team that my friend George said he liked as much as the U of Red.

As a young child, I had no hard feelings for the University of Blue, even though they were a rival team. I was not instructed by my parents or taught that they were a lesser people or dumb or stupid or anything of that sort. That's beside the point for now, but will become important later. George and I played a lot. Over time, he played football with me. Now, I wasn't very athletically inclined at all. When we would play, he would claim to be the Blue team and I was to be on the Red. And you know what? He beat me every time. He ran circles around me. I lost every time to the blue team.

If that was the sole reason for my hatred of football... that would be extremely petty and childish. Actually, I should point out that it isn't the sport in general or the fans... but what it does to people. The monsters that the sport turns normal people into.

Time went on. The University of Blue, as it were, is a school that was founded by a prominent church leader of the faith I profess. Incidentally, so is the University of Red. The U of Blue however, maintained its status as a "church school", and for that I respect it and admire it. They have a wonderful honor code I only wish that my school had. The students there, as far as I can tell, are some of the brightest and best there are in the world. And to top it off, they have a wonderful Musical Theater program. The campus is clean, smiles are all around, and for the most part, everything checks out just fine. Until...

Football season begins. As George and I got older, he would "surprise" me with "facts" (more like blanket statements) about what it is Red fans do after games, like: "All Red fans go home and smoke". I know it sounds silly, but as a young child, it hurt to hear that George thought my family, my grandparents, and even the prophet (again, of the faith I profess) must surely fall into that category. I mean, I didn't even know what was going on in those games, or know a dang thing about either college, but what I did know is that smoking was wrong, and my parents were not smokers.

As George got older, things did not improve. I had another friend named Larry who only supported the Blue. Growing up, their behavior and attitude towards me grew more and more cruel. They constantly made fun of me and made jokes at my expense, even to the extent of Larry chalking my driveway and making many disparaging comments against me and my family. Some of those examples were along the lines of "prep palace", "nerds only", and other hurtful things. I would really like to give Larry the benefit of the doubt and say it had something to do with some kind of jealousy, but the sad truth is that it all stemmed from some inbred hatred my "friends" had for me because of what again? Oh yes. I didn't cheer for the Blue team. Keep in mind, I didn't say "I wasn't planning on attending the Blue school" or "Hated the Blue University and all of their students". I said I didn't cheer for their team. Which team? Which sport? FOOTBALL.

If it were only George and Larry, it wouldn't have been too bad. Unfortunately, my eyes were opened to the fact that to some people, team preferences determined friendships. I present evidence in the form of my older brother, who had two excellent friends throughout his elementary school, but once they "discovered" that he did not cheer for the Blue, immediately the friendship was severed. They simply couldn't be friends anymore. Yes, it is childish behavior, certainly, but that can really leave a lasting impression on a young man. Judgment had been passed on him due to something he really didn't control.

I too had my share of nightmare-ish experiences during my scholastic years. All it would take was wearing a red shirt to school and suddenly it was like I had a sign on my forehead that said, "Please say something about my shirt, and please make it as mean as possible." I tell the honest truth when I said that I feared wearing red or especially University of Red shirts to school. Suddenly, people would say terrible things to me. They would make fun of me. They would tell me to change clothes. One kid pushed me. Another mistreated me. Another insulted my family. After while, I learned just not to wear any Red apparel at all to school.

Growing older, I wondered why it had to be that way. Why should there have been such a polarization of people? We should have all been friends. We should have all loved each other. I thought George and Larry were my friends... until it was game time. I always wished as a child that some supreme authority would just combine both schools and end the senseless hatred. And it is just that. Hatred. Don't try and pass of my suffering and torture as "friendly competition" or "friendly rivalry." In fact, in trying to maintain my neutrality of schools, trying to prove that I could like either one just the same, I wore a shirt that was both Blue and Red. Of course, that got quite a wild reaction. Most people just looked at me in disgust, and others informed me that I just "can't do that!" I had done nothing wrong. I wasn't even a student at the University of Red. What had I done to deserve that treatment?

At first I hated the schools. Then as I matured, I realized school was not the source of the trials I was being put through. It was football. Nothing more and nothing less than football. Now, if it was just a matter of collegiate differences, it probably wouldn't matter at all. Joke away, jab or whatever.

The reason that it bothers me is the the University of Blue was supposed to represent my religion. The religion that meant so much to me suddenly turned on me come the "big game." I was no longer as good of a member, or as faithful. The jokes of Blue being the "Lord's University" or even worse, that their football team was "The Lord's football team" was not funny to me. I know God, and He is no respecter of teams, schools, or persons. If anything, He is saddened by how His children forget Him during those weeks and days that only a handful of His children are playing some game that should have absolutely no impact on the salvation of anyone witnessing it. And that is on both sides. It is not just Blue, and it is not just Red. Good, normal people suddenly become monsters. They point fingers. They play the blame game. They find fault. They tease, they insult, they hurt, mock, and even injure one another. It is so senseless. I don't think Blue fans are all bad people, and not all Red fans are bad people either. In fact, they're all probably very good people who just lose their senses.

I know there are some in the audience who might take my reason for hating football in general as a treatise of why I hate their school or them, but I made it very clear up front that I have nothing whatsoever against the school or even its students. Even if they had an athletics program, that would be fine. It's the contention and hatred and bigotry and everything else that makes me hate football. The funny thing is is that I never see it escalate to the level it does every year over, say, volleyball or gymnastics. No, only football turns the masses into monsters. Even those who are close to me suddenly find a reason to throw aside any inkling of good-naturedness or temperance to yell, scream, shout and especially hate.

I also really don't like football in the sense of what it does to families. Once the collegiate rounds are over, then begins professional football, which I hear can be worse or just as bad in terms of rivalries and the atrocities that people commit before, during and after games. You can choose how you wish, but I wouldn't pay to go see a football game on a Sunday, and inviting the game into my home is just as bad. Again, I don't judge anyone who practices this currently, but I will not have it in my home. It's noise. It's contention. It is unwelcome. It would pain me to be the type of father that comes home from church on a Sunday and just grabs a soda, sits on the couch and watches people play some game on a TV as if it really matters or affects them... ignoring the REAL people around him. His children, his wife... whoever.

So forgive me if I have a hard time cheering on my school's team, or any team for that matter. I don't know those people. They don't know me. I do know that there are people who use what those athletes dedicate themselves to as a viable excuse to cast off any gentleness, brotherhood or kindness they would normally express.

Do I hear cries of "hypocrite!" in the crowd? Yes, I realize that I wrote that I am against hatred, but hate football. If it would make you feel better, I could hate people instead if you wish. I could hate them, and teach my children to hate them. Then my children could teach their children to hate people who are different than they are as well.

"Love your enemies, bless those that curse you, and hate you."
"Contention is not of me, but of the devil."

Sound familiar?

So forgive me for not wanting anything to do with football. I will keep attending my school, and you can attend yours. I am not better than you, and you are not better than me for it. I don't want to feel obligated to support either team. I won't attend the games. You can, though, and please, have fun with it. If you enjoy it, there is nothing wrong with you. If football excites you and makes you have a great time, then keep attending and keep enjoying yourself! Especially don't stop going on my account! Heck, I like video games and stuff that you don't enjoy, so I will definitely grant you freedom to do so.

However, if you enjoy making disparaging comments about other people to their face or behind their back, if you enjoy seeing someone who isn't like you get hurt, if you smile every time someone who has a different viewpoint than yours falls from grace, then there IS something that is definitely wrong with you. And I invite you to wake up, look around you and within yourself, and repent.

I hope that we can all work together to make the world a better place. We may be all different colors of the rainbow, be it white, red, pink, blue (which is my favorite color, by the way), green, or black. It is when those colors work together, when they blend, when they cooperate that beauty happens. If every color on the spectrum was to be painted onto a canvas just to see which color was better than the rest, it would all just turn black. Black with hate, fear, misunderstanding, pain, and sorrow.

Quick Update

Well, what is there to say today? I think for the first time in my whole life I might just get something higher than a "C" on a Math Test. I'll let you know as time goes on.

The Lamest Dance Ever

Sit down all and let me tell you a tale of how our society and youth have declined. Maybe it's just part of growing up, or maybe it's part of the bubble I presumed myself to be in for so many years. Many years ago, I was once an avid attender of Stake Dances. They were such a grand old time! We would go to ask the wallflowers to dance to make their nights, get crazy with the disco (crazy as in dance something that is still pretty conservative), and participate in the Macarena, the (shudder) Boot, Scoot and Boogie, and make sure we found at least one or two pretty girls to meet and dance with... in a slow, refined, hand in hand facing-your-partner-and-actually-striking-up-some-kind-of-meaningful-conversation type way.

I left on my mission for two years, with fond memories of dances, with memories of what I learned in Ballroom Dance, Stake Dance visits, the every-once-in-a-while stomp, and Proms and Morps and everything else in between (except Sweethearts, which no one ever asked me to. Once. Thanks for nothing.).

Then something the heck happened. I came back and attended my first dance. I was invited by an anonymous cousin of mine because I had finally decided I maybe wanted to start having a little more fun and meeting new people more. I figured a Singles Dance was a good place to begin. When I arrived, it was dark and rainy... and 3 dollars later, in we went. Suddenly I wondered where all the cute girls were. I looked all around and pondered what that horrible noise was that was coming from the speakers. I wondered if I had even arrived at the dance... all I could see were people jumping next to each other with some completely unintelligible lyrics spewing forth from the deafening speakers. I figured I would meet people and ask a girl or two to dance and then peace out.

I waited and waited. What, is no slow song even going to play? I thought to myself. Turns out there wasn't to be one. Finally, after several requests, a slow one was played, which just happened to be the last one of the night. The volume of the music, however, didn't change. Our conversation went like this...

"Hi, what's your name?"
"WHAT?!"
"I SAID 'WHAT'S YOUR NAME'!"
"Oh! It's ......"
"WHAT?!"
"IT'S ANNA! (I think)"
"NO BANANAS, I'M GOOD, THANKS!"
"DID YOU JUST SAY YOU WERE.... oh, song's over. Thanks."

Yeah. That good. Later we had the opportunity to attend another one. It was on Halloween Eve, and was going until 1:00 in the morning at SLCC. We went to appease the same cousin. We got there, and lo and behold, it was a repeat of the first time. Only worse. Much much worse. Every girl decided that Halloween is a great excuse to dress like a skank, the "music" sounded like some guys chanting to a beat that NEVER CHANGED from song to song, and during the course of the dance, my cousin told me to go and meet new people. By "meet" he meant walk into circle and bump butts or hips or whatever was at my disposal below my shoulders with random sluts. Oooooookkkaaaaayyyy.....

I looked around. I asked myself "What am I doing here?" After that, I realized that I had no business being there whatsoever. Sure, I wanted to meet people, and I wanted to have fun. I happen to enjoy dancing, actually. Instead, I spent a lot of time dodging scantily clad girls (who I'm pretty sure were drunk) who just wanted some action and jumping at each other.

Moral of the story? Dances today suck. Bad.