This is my announcement to the world, and to the NFL in particular:
I’m done with you.
Apparently, there’s a new rule that takes away a defensive player’s ability to do a clean hit on a quarterback. This robs the game of an essential element necessary to the suspense and combative nature of the game, and threatens to make the NFL into nothing more than a game of pitch-and-catch, where the game is no longer determined by the players’ abilities, but by the whims of the referees. No longer does a quarterback have to be naturally good at feeling pressure and escaping the pocket. Now, any accurate passer gets to be Aaron Rodgers, because the defensive line doesn’t get to play.
For me, that’s the last straw.
No, it’s not just seeing Clay Matthews make an outstanding play for which he gets flagged, although that’s a big part of it. The referees and owners have been ruining the game for quite some time, now. We tried to take it back somewhat, with things like instant replay and play-challenges taking the bad-call element away from the game, just a bit. But in the end, too many cooks spoiled the damned broth. Again.
And it’s the fans, too. It’s hard enough watching them dump their American flags, handed out to them on Veterans’ Day, on the dirty floors of the stands. It’s even harder to watch those two-faced fans bitch about Colin Kaepernick, as if he’d committed a worse sin than dehumanizing the athletes who literally sacrifice their bodies for their amusement. Fuck you redneck assholes.
It wasn’t enough that we have to be bombarded with ads regularly throughout, and even during, the game. It wasn’t enough that we had to endure constant pass interference calls on the innocent, and non-calls on the guilty. Now we have to watch the talented be handcuffed by new rules so that the less-talented can pretend to be a better quarterback.
Brett Favre, for all his problems, paid for his glory in hard-hits. So did Aaron Rodgers. All that sacrifice is worth shit now.
These hired mercenaries, paid millions to represent us in a pseudo-warfare of arbitrary municipal tribes, are paid to battle for our entertainment. We get to pretend that “we won!” if they win, as if we somehow did any of the work. Now, they’re required to practically play with NERF. What next? Boxing without punches?
I’m done. Fuck your hyper-commercialized shit-show. Fuck your Bud-vs.-Miller crap. Fuck your gas-guzzling trucks. Fuck your silly segues that try to insert your product into anything football-related. And fuck that damned Fox Sports robot that perpetuates the racist idea that these mostly black and all-too-human athletes are little more than performing androids!
I’m taking back three hours of my life every Sunday.
And poor Clay Matthews! He built a career on making exactly the sort of hits that they’ve now outlawed in the NFL. He can’t do what he’s been doing his whole life. He isn’t allowed to be good at his job anymore. Hell, he can’t even DO his job anymore. And he’s not alone in the League. Now he has to re-train his entire body, late in his career, to do something other than what he’s best at? Fuuuuuck that!
I can quit for free. Clay Matthews can’t. But even so, if I were him, I’d seriously consider retiring in protest. Hell, if Barry Sanders can do it at the top of his game, why not Clay?
Oh, I’ll still hope for the Packers to win. I’ll probably even attend more games at Lambeau. (One of the benefits of marrying the granddaughter of a former State Senator is getting the occasional Lambeau ticket.) But will I watch any more games on television? No. Will I be emotionally invested? Hell, no! I’m done.
Go Pack. May you win without me.
Meanwhile, I’m taking up watching more soccer. Madison has a new team. Minnesota United gives me a Midwest team to root for in MLS. The Milwaukee Wave is still the best deal in town. And there are plenty of teams to root for in Germany and the U.K. that don’t waste any of my time with nonsense ads which insult my intelligence.
No, my becoming a non-fan will not, by itself, bring down the NFL Empire. But at least I have the satisfaction of not taking it lying down.
And I’ll bet I won’t be alone.
Eric
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