A Skeptic in Football Paradise

The ugly violence that leaves many of the league’s players with debilitating damage? Hey, look over here on this stage — a fallen hero in the flesh, sending his appreciation and love.

All of the league’s other nettlesome problems? Well, why talk about all that when there’s another corporate-sponsored jubilee to attend.

So, yes, I’m dubious about football — and not just because I’m a reporter whose job requires skepticism.

I’m the father of a 12-year-old. I will never let him play the game, not given what is known about brain trauma. I’m an African American disgusted by the league’s failure to hire Black head coaches and stung by the fact that it took until 2023 for two Black quarterbacks to lead their teams in the Super Bowl. The league’s penchant for brushing misogyny under the rug is a stain I cannot abide.

That said, I’m no different than many other skeptics. I love the game, detest the game and am conflicted by the game. The N.F.L. has a way of pulling me in. It’s the spectacle — the choreographed beauty and drama, the marvel of teams trying to find control amid utter chaos.

I know I’m hardly alone, even if, walking among the crowds at the multitude of fan events in sun-scorched Phoenix, being a doubter felt more than a little lonely.

The league adds to its reach and self-serving mythology by setting up camp at each year’s Super Bowl. It makes each host city its own: a traveling football road show that clamps down on a metropolis like an occupying army.

Article source: https://www.nytimes.com/2023/02/11/sports/football/super-bowl-damar-hamlin.html