Wednesday, December 24, 2008

A Rage For Pigskin- College Division

Commentary

In post- World War II America, the time of this writer’s youth, television and its seemingly infinite possibilities settled on mass sport entertainment as one of its pillars, a wise decision from a revenue producing perspective, if not from a cultural one. Needless to say sports like football that had previously had small, stadium-bound audiences for the most part soaked up the American television airwaves. That all by way of introducing this writer’s life-long fascination with the trials and tribulations of college football and the quest of the 'mythical' national college football championship that has provided fodder for endless arguments over the fairness of the system to produce a real champion in face-to-face combat.

Who knows when a kid first becomes conscious of sports and the difference between them. Maybe in some elementary school physical education class. Maybe in front of the television on some misbegotten Saturday or Sunday afternoon watching a half understood game that is beyond the realm of recollection today. Maybe it was some late night viewing of "The Knute Rockne Story" with Pat O’Brian as Knute and the late, unlamented Ronald Reagan as the heroic George Gipp. One thing is clear it was not from a shared experience with my father. This hard-pressed, harried man was too busy trying to make ends meet (and failing) to have the luxury of watching some esoteric game like football. So we will have to leave the genesis of my football mania as undetermined. Not unlike a lot of life’s habits.

Another source that we can eliminate was an ability to master the game or to perform it at any level short of the ridiculous. There may have been earlier tag football experiences but the first clear recollection of my lack of athletic prowess in an organized team situation was in the seventh grade in those days in my part of the country the first year of junior high school (now, generally, called middle school). There were actually very few sports opportunities at that grade level and football was it in the fall. I thus dutifully and, if I am not mistaken in the fog of history here, somewhat passionately went out for the team. Not knowing much about any of the positions I tried out for center. I think the assumption there was that since I handled the ball that was the key position.

The only problem with my theory was that I was probably even then something like forty or fifty pounds too light for that position. But I remained intrepid and stuck it out as about the fourth-string center that season. Oh yes, in the spirit of good fellowship, sportsmanship or whatever the coach let me go and strut my stuff that season-for one play. The opposing defensive player lifted me about ten feet off the ground with his straight-armed tackle. Needless to say I went abjectly went back the bench full of feelings and foreboding that this was not my sport. Of course in the whirl of today’s sports frenzy I would not have been allowed on the team, even in middle school. Perhaps we can trace the demise of a sense of good sportsmanship and fair play not from the fields of Eton, as in the old days, but in the football fields of America’s middle schools. In any case that was my last team sport experience, my sense of social solidarity and collective work came from other sources.

Let’s go back to that "Knute Rockne" movie for a moment. Although it is probably not the source for my love of college football it does play into the why of my love of college football rather than professional football. I have written elsewhere that as a youth I was somewhat agnostic about my Irish heritage (on my mother’s side) due to the overwhelming problems of existence that confronted our poor bedraggled nuclear family. However, and take this for what it is worth, I very early on attached myself to Notre Dame as a team that I followed. Why? It could have been as small a reason that their team nickname was “The Fighting Irish”. Whatever the reason from middle school to this day, during football season, I scan the newspaper scoreboard to see how the lads have done. In my youth, until 1964 (and for about 20 years now as well) they were not a very good team, certainly not the stuff of the Rockne/Gipp legend. But that is how allegiances get formed.


Like many another red-blooded American high school student in the early 1960’s (or now, for that matter, but you can speak for yourselves), aside for a passion for politics, I was as devoted as anyone to my high school football team. I believe that I went to virtually every game, home or away. That was a sign, among others, of being cool. It also cleared the path a little for my odd-ball political positions. Like being very strongly for the civil rights struggle in the South in a high school that was purposefully all white (even though black neighborhoods, although not in the town itself, were only a few miles away). Or being one of the few people in the town square on Saturday morning with a placard calling for unilateral nuclear disarmament. If that protest had been on Saturday afternoon during football season what would I have done? I will leave that to the imagination of the reader.

By a quirk of fate the publicly-funded college that I attended did not have its own football team. Thus, that Notre Dame allegiance got full play. Of course, although I had not been aware of it earlier this allegiance was not some personal aberration but a significant factor in the popularity of that team. There was, and perhaps there still is, a term for it called “subway” fans meaning that urban Irish types were devoted to the team from South Bend. There were certain bars in the Boston area that one did not go into on Saturday afternoon unless one was a Notre Dame fan, passionate or lukewarm. A highlight was the famous Michigan State/ Notre Dame game that the Irish won 10-10 (oops, tied- these disputes die hard).

After college my devotion continued although not for the "Fighting Irish" (except as they, occasionally, entered the national championship mix). I have spent many a misbegotten hour putting parlays together based on that Top 10 (in the old, old days), Top 20 (more recently) and Top 25 (now). There are infinite combinations that one can place bets on. My favorite (after picking the national champion straight up in pre-season which I have not been particularly successful at) is the top four combinations based on the Coaches and AP Polls. Also top eight and the top 25 (that last is more of an interesting bet than anything else and I got creamed last year with my ill-conceived selections). Enough said.

3 comments:

  1. Hi,

    I am a journalist. I was wondering if we wanted to do an interview with you, how would we be able to contact you?

    - Maria

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  2. I have comments sent to my e-mail address. Send your e-mail address and I will contact you. Or sent questions in comment area and I will answer them.

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  3. my email to use for now is: mjan27@gmail.com ; I will keep it here for a little while, but I do not want to keep it online for too long. I look forward to hearing from you.

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