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Mind, heart fight over football loyalty

Matthew Hill, Special to the News

Published September 8, 2006 at midnight

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Editor's note: These reader-penned columns were whittled down from 146 entries in our Last Columnist Typing contest. One columnist is eliminated per week — a la Survivor — until one is left at the NFL season's end. The winner will cover an event alongside the pros.

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Ever feel embarrassed to call yourself a football fan? At least a couple times a year, my heart and my mind do battle to determine if I will continue to bear the moniker "football fan."

Every time I read a story about another NFL player abusing his wife, driving drunk, boating with prostitutes or losing his season as a result of police gunfire, my mind makes me question why I would consider lining the pockets of these felons by purchasing a ticket.

From Deion's declaration of the Georgia Dome as "my house" to Keyshawn Johnson's penning of Just Give Me the Damn Ball to Chad Johnson's weekly exploits, the NFL is becoming less about the team and more about the individuals. My mind reminds me that everything that I love about football — the toughness, the strategy, the perfect execution of 11 men working together in unity — all gets stomped into the ground by the feet of yet another receiver who feels the end zone is his own private dance studio.

My heart tells me that football is fun. The heart wins.

Even though my heart always emerges victorious in the battle for football loyalty, the mind's complaints still echo in me. It still longs to embrace players that exemplify the tough, team-first attitude on which football was founded. When my mind cries for role models to cheer, I stop watching the quarterback, running back or receivers. I don't focus on the half-crazed members of the defensive line or the linebackers. My mind will have nothing to do with the trash-talking showmanship of the secondary. No, when I want to applaud men I can be proud of, I look to the offensive line.

Tired of the all-about-me attitude invading the NFL? You will never, ever catch an offensive linemen dancing, pounding his chest, or make any "look at me gesture" after making a big block. You will not hear any offensive linemen running their mouth to the media, nor will a lineman write a book entitled Just Run the Damn Ball Behind Me.

Atlanta Falcons coach Jim Mora says of his linemen, " . . . in order to function well as a group, they have to depend on each other . . . no one can be above each other." Offensive linemen may be the last group of men in professional sports that understand what it means to be a member of a team. From the time they first lined up along the line, they have understood that the only people who are watching them are their coach and their mom. They don't play for fame; they play to win.

So when you head to the stadium this weekend, do yourself a favor — take off the old Elway jersey (he is retired, if you didn't realize) and don the jersey of one of the big men who will quietly abuse their bodies attempting to bring their team a win.

It's good for the heart — and the mind.

Matthew teaches English and theology and coaches football and baseball at Lutheran High School in Parker. He lives with his wife Rachel in Parker and enjoys running and strength training.