FEBRUARY 3, 2020 – I grew up in a household in which organized sports were frowned upon, and the more highly organized the sport, the greater the frown. Our dad was the frowner in chief. He loved books, art, classical music, and was reliably skeptical of whatever attracted the masses. Sports qualified as a “masses magnet,” and Dad thought the masses spent way too much time and energy devoted to sports and insufficient thought and attention to “things that mattered.” (Our mom also loved books, art, and classical music, but she was a secret sports fan. In later life she became an unabashed follower of the NBA. Dad let her have her way.)
Me? I went through several sports phases. In the spring of fourth grade, I was bitten by the baseball bug and soon became obsessed with the sport. I even persuaded Dad to take me to several Twins games. (He drove, paid, and watched without complaint and even kept us well stocked with peanuts in the shell.) I would later go out for school sports, but apart from sixth grade basketball, I threw myself into highly individual sports—running and skiing. (Dad came to one of my track meets and saw me win a race. Later, at home, he gave me a dollar and said, “I’m proud of you.”) My college was a Division III, New England hockey powerhouse, and all but maybe three students in the entire school were rabid Polar Bear hockey fans. I was firmly with the majority, and as a Minnesotan who’d grown up on ice skates, I even took to the home ice as the Polar Bear mascot. (Dad himself was an accomplished skater and went to great lengths to create a rink in our backyard. He was no hockey fan, though—hockey, especially in Minnesota, was way too “organized.”)
I married into a family of unrivaled sports fanatics, and in part by their influence, our two sons became big sports fans.
I’ve been swept along with my family, but I often find myself contemplating—and embracing—Dad’s disdain for the over-sized role that “big sports” play in American society. Whenever I hear or see anything related to the NFL, especially, I think of the Coliseum in Rome. While watching yesterday’s Super Bowl game, I saw the Chiefs and 49ers as Roman gladiators fighting to the death for the pleasure of cheering masses, except the multi-millionaire football players weren’t fighting to the death—just for an occasional brain concussion.
As I watched things unravel for the 49ers (“my team”), however, I came to see the Super Bowl as a welcome diversion from the national nonsense that threatens to derail us—what’s playing out in the political arena. Libraries, art museums, and symphony halls will never bring us together as the Super Bowl does. What we need as never before is our obsession with “big sports.” Our devotion to sports is now what will hold our country together—at least through this year’s World Series.
(Remember to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.)
© 2020 by Eric Nilsson
