The Waiting Game

We are in a bit of a football lull, at the moment. Not too much going on in the way of news or scandal. The draft is long done. Greg Hardy and Tom Brady have both had their appeals. Voluntary camps have closed and now it is a waiting game until camps open up. This is the calm before the storm.

                  For those of us who love football, this can be a trying time of year. Thank God that the NFL network is there for a continuous loop of all things football. I find myself watching that channel more at this time of year than even during the season. I actually spent an hour yesterday watching a ludicrously detailed history of the Super Bowl Halftime show. It was, honestly, pretty interesting. From the first twenty or so games with winter-themed extravaganzas or the cavity inducing, saccharine sweetness of Up With People, to the Fox network stealing viewers and the NFL shooting back with Michael Jackson the next year.

Michael Jackson at Super Bowl XXVII

The Super Bowl was about the game. That’s not to say that the current iteration is worse. It is what it is; a football game with a longer than normal halftime and an absurd amount of focus put on the non-football aspects of the evening. This can, and does, make the game enjoyable for the fans whose teams are not in the mix. It is one way that the league has guaranteed viewership over the last 49 games. All of this is part of what makes the yearly spectacle as grand as it can be. I have watched championship games in multiple sports, with passionate fans, and nothing is on par with the Super Bowl. The closest that I have ever witnessed was watching an Australian Rules Football Grand Final. That was an experience, primarily because I watched it with a bunch of Australians. But nothing else seems to have the immediacy and passion that comes with the Super Bowl. Baseball, Hockey, Basketball…all play a championship series. I am not meaning to take anything away from those. Arguably, a series is a more definitive way to crown a champion. It is fairer. It is a more complete and accurate representation of who was the better team. As the saying goes: “Any given Sunday…” a ball bounces the wrong way, a poor call by the officials, a usually sure handed receiver drops a catch that he would make 999 times out of 1000 (yes, I’m still a little bitter about Wes Welker, although he is obviously not the only reason that particular game was lost). A series gives you a chance to come back and fight tomorrow, until there are no tomorrows left. A single game fills with passion, a fight to the death, a hair-raising drive, and waves of emotion which turn on a proverbial dime.

Chris Matthews TD reception

I cannot begin to describe the highs and lows that gripped me during this past Super Bowl.

Malcolm Butler Interception

I am at a loss to think of many moments in my life that have seen so many ups and downs in such a short span of time. The World Series/League Championship Series or the Stanley Cup Playoffs have been good to me at times. Giving me wonderful memories and more than my share of heart-breaking ones. But one game runs into the next, I remember jumping out of my seat as Koji Uehara picked off Kolton Wong at first, to end the game. However, I struggle to remember exactly which game it was. Now, because I am a giant nerd (and it was only two years ago) I can tell you that it was Game 4. But it took me a second to remember. Dave Roberts stealing second off of Mariano Rivera when everyone in the country knew that he was running.

Dave Roberts stealing 2nd

Tim Thomas standing on his head for 7 games in probably the most lop-sided series, to actually go the full 7 games, in hockey history. The lights going out at Boston Garden in game 4 of the ’88 Stanley Cup Finals. Bird stealing the inbounds pass. My point here is that there are memories of the games that transcend and burn themselves into our minds. A series is more egalitarian, but a single championship game is ruthless, it is brutal. It will tear your heart out and feel joy in your suffering. More than the needed recovery time in football, the reason I believe there is a single game is simple…the fans’ hearts couldn’t take a series.

As a child and teenager, I remember the excitement, the anticipation that went into Super Bowl Sunday. It was almost a religious experience. I rooted for a bad football team that had one good run, then nothing for over a decade, then nothing for another half a decade. The fact that they were so bad was almost endearing. It didn’t change the fact that I waited for Super Bowl Sunday with a level of anticipation normally held only for Christmas. I loved my team, but the fact that they weren’t in the game didn’t matter. The games I remember fondly, but the experiences I remember more so. We always had big parties at our house. Friends, neighbors, sometimes even complete strangers all congregated at our house for the game. I can tell you precise details about almost every one that I witnessed. I can tell you what I was wearing, what we were eating, or who was there. In a series, it is just about the game, but the Super Bowl makes it an all-inclusive ride.

So here we are…back in the waiting game. Everyone has hope of winning this coming year. In a modern example of Schrödinger’s thought experiment, as long as the proof of a result is not witnessed, any outcome is possible.

Browns rookie OLB Nate Orchard

There is endless optimism…even in Cleveland.