Concussion concerns threaten football's dominance

This post was published in the Wilson Times Nov. 10, 2019.

Last weekend provided a cup overflowing with televised football games — Thursday and Friday night games between high school and college teams, more college games on Saturday with ever-expanding networks to broadcast or stream games between even obscure schools with minuscule followings; and National Football League games nearly all day Sunday, plus a smattering of weeknight games.

Through ticket sales, merchandising and generous television revenue, the NFL is bringing in about $16 billion this year. In little over half a century, the NFL has become by far the dominant professional sports league, and college football retains its hold on collegiate sports culture, challenged only by men’s basketball.

You’d think American football was a sure bet, but America’s love for football and its college and professional leagues face existential challenges resulting from the recognition that CTE (Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy) threatens the mental functioning and even the lives of football players. Concerns about CTE have led to rules changes that limit the dangerous collisions inherent in a sport that involves very large boys and men hurtling at each other at top speeds. Medical research has found playing football can result in brain injuries (CTE) that might not show up until decades later.

Fewer children are participating in high school football, long the “major sport” in U.S. high schools. You can hardly blame the parents who don’t want to sacrifice their sons’ brains for ephemeral glory and a long-shot opportunity to earn big contracts in professional football. It is a sport where young men can be maimed or killed, and old men lose their memories and reasoning powers.

I played high school football in another era, 50 years ago, and I played for a losing team in a lower competitive level. My first year on the team, I was listed as a 110 pound center. It was a time when no player was held out after “getting your bell rung,” as head injuries were known then. Those injuries were treated with smelling salts and a return to action. There was no concussion protocol, not even the acknowledgement that a concussion occurred. I recall the tackle to my right in the offensive line asking me, “who do I block” after being briefly knocked out on the previous play. He never missed a snap.

A Boston University study found that the risk of developing CTE increases 30 percent for each year of playing football. I played three years, and that is frightening to me now. My son did not play football in high school, but he enjoyed throwing the football around and playing backyard games. None of my five grandsons has shown much interest in playing football in high school, and that’s fine with me.

Last Sunday’s Raleigh News & Observer spotlighted the dilemma with a front page cover story headlined “Can Football Be Saved?” Participation in high school football is down 25 percent since 2010, the N&O reported. Without players, there can be no football. The very long article highlighted a high school coach in Apex who has minimized brain injury risks by eliminating full-speed contact in practices and teaching blocking and tackling techniques to avoid concussions in games. Saving football, it appears, might require drastic changes in how the game is played and practiced. The amazing shows of strength, speed, balance and athleticism may have to be curtailed for football to survive.

But I haven’t stopped watching football on television and, occasionally, in person. The athletic competition, the excitement of the game, the teamwork, the combat-like strategies all appeal to me. It is with a sense of guilty pleasure that I watch football, knowing that the men and young boys playing are risking their health for my (and millions of others’) enjoyment.

It seems inevitable that football will lose its perch atop the popularity of spectator sports. The hidden dangers of CTE will turn off parents, players, fans, and politicians to the point that football recedes into an archaic past in much the same way boxing did.

If football fades away, gone with it will be a testing and maturing opportunity for teenage boys, as well as a cohesive pride that brings communities together. Just look at what Fike High School’s state championships did for Wilson or look at the “Friday Night Lights” TV series. But young people’s health is worth more than community pride.

Missed calls help set stage for Super Bowl

It's Super Bowl Week (which lasts two weeks to fully aggrandize a game), so indulge me another post about football. 

The hot news this week, much to the chagrin on National Football League executives, is all about badly missed calls in the NFC and AFC Championship games last Sunday. Fans of the New Orleans Saints and the Kansas City Chiefs think their teams were robbed of Super Bowl slots because of bad officiating.

Gripes about the officiating are common in all sports that leave some key penalties and declarations in the hands of referees, umpires and officials. Most of these calls involve some human judgment, which is fallible. What makes last Sunday's gripes a little different is that the faulty judgment was displayed in slow motion and seemed clearly mistaken. The Saints complained vociferously about a pass interference incident that was not called. The game officials did not see a violation of the rules and made no call. In the AFC game, the Chiefs complained that game officials' quickness to call penalties that were not flagrant or obvious — no harm, no foul, play-on situations — or a game-changing call that was simply mistaken. These calls were made in the crucial final minutes of the close game. The most egregious was a roughing-the-passer call (15-yard penalty) that replay showed didn't happen. The defensive lineman's swipe at Patriots' QB Tom Brady missed him entirely.

In nearly every game played there are missed calls, sins of commission or sins of omission by the officials. Most of the time, these missed calls balance out, and both teams have some justification for their grievances. But these were division championship games, and the missed calls were more obvious than is usual.

The NFL has tried to reduce game-changing mistakes by incorporating reviews of instant replays that frequently overturn the instantaneous opinions of the referees. But instant replay reviews take time and are frustrating for fans and teams. Neither of the key penalties in the division championships were reviewable under current rules. Those rules might change, but don't expect changes that second-guesses every call on the field. That would be chaotic.

Fans and teams will have to accept that calling penalties on the football field is an inexact science hindered by human frailty. Instant replay can only do so much, and videos can be as misleading and as misjudged as live action.

Enjoy the game on Feb. 3 and hope for fewer controversial calls.

Football, Super Bowls and the future

This Super Bowl weekend, numerous articles are pointing out the decline in the popularity of the National Football League. President Trump has suggested the decline in NFL game TV ratings is the result of players' protests during the pregame National Anthem. More sober analyses show many factors account for the ratings decline, including the "cut the cord" movement (which has resulted in an overall decline in network/cable viewing), the lack of success by fans' favorite teams (Dallas Cowboys and others) and individual players (Cam Newton and others), and the acknowledgement that traumatic brain injuries are plaguing the entire sport.

Another factor, largely unacknowledged, is the never-ending hype of the networks and the NFL to cram two entire weeks of anticipation into the calendar before the Super Bowl takes place. Sunday's game is scheduled for 6:30, but NBC's coverage of the game begins at noon. That strikes me as a textbook definition of overkill. Fans' capacity for minute details and "expert" opinions has been stretched beyond the breaking point.

This all-day coverage is aimed at selling more high-priced commercial time, of course. The Super Bowl captures the largest annual viewership and charges the highest quarter-minute price for commercials. Super Bowl commercials have become an event almost as anticipated as the game itself.

In the 52-year history (or the LII history if you're into the NFL's pretentious Roman numerals) of Super Bowls, I've probably closely watched 46 (that XLVI) of them. I'll watch number LII Sunday, even though my favorite teams faltered in the regular season or playoffs and won't be on the field.

Despite its inherent violent collisions and dangers of serious, even permanent, injury, football can provide moments of beauty, such as a perfectly arced pass that drops the football into the receiver's hand 60 yards from where it was unleashed, a sudden zig-zag that frees a runner to scamper into the end zone past prostate defensive players who were faked out by the move, or a ballet-like leap into the air to snag a pass and return to earth within the painted lines on the field.

These moments are why I still watch the game, even though I find college football more interesting and exciting. Both collegiate and professional football are facing an existential threat in the form of crippling brain traumas that leave retired players with severe mental disabilities and/or dementia. Participation in football is declining at the middle school and high school level. Parents are reluctant to allow their sons to play a game that can result in their permanent disability. Without youth football to supply the apprentices to the college and pro games, the sport cannot survive. Even though the NFL and the NCAA have imposed new rules to limit the severity of collisions to the head and neck, the hazard of debilitating concussions and dementia persists. Better helmets don't seem to be the answer.

I'll watch the Super Bowl Sunday knowing that the event might not reach its ninety-ninth year (that would be Super Bowl IC), and I will look forward to the start of the college football season (although my team isn't doing well) with all its hoopla, youthful excitement, and perfect blue skies. It's one of the reasons I love the autumn.

So many bowl games (that's not a complaint)

My wife is complaining that I've been watching football every day lately. I'll admit, I've watched so many bowl games that they have all begun to run together. Not only did I watch the one I was actually interested in, the one involving my alma mater, I watched others as well, those involving teams I had not followed through the season and, in many cases, I had not seen play a game all year.

I'm a casual fan, not a fanatic. I don't watch game after game every weekend. I almost never watch Sports Center. I'm even less interested in navel-gazing about sports than I am interested in navel-gazing about politics.

But there are so many bowl games, and so many of them are good games involving excellent teams. Boise State's game (forgive me for not remembering whom they were playing or what was the name of the bowl) was a case in point. Boise has had an innovative and powerful offense. And I had some interest in Notre Dame's bowl game against Hawaii; I was interested in seeing whether Notre Dame would lose yet another bowl game. Last night's game, Alabama vs. Utah in the Sugar Bowl, promised to be a blowout. Alabama had been ranked No. 1 for most of the season. Utah, I thought, would stand little chance. But I turned on the TV soon enough to see Utah score three touchdowns in the first half of the first quarter! I couldn't stay up to see the end of the game, to see whether Alabama's comeback would be successful, but I watched long enough to see some extraordinary football performances. When I got up this morning, I went to the computer to check the score and see that Utah had held on, convincingly, making Utah the only Division I team with a perfect record and, thereby, giving the Utes a claim to a national championship.

The problem is, there is no real national championship for Division I (or Bowl Championship Series) teams. Florida and Oklahoma will play in the National Championship bowl, but disputes will linger, no matter how the game comes out. Both teams have lost games, giving their conquerors a claim to a national championship as well. The only solution is a true playoff system for Division I teams. Commentators on one of the bowl games I watched (forgive me, they all run together) had a good proposal: Play the four big, traditional bowls (Rose, Sugar, Cotton and Orange) on New Year's Day. Then take the two highest-ranked, most convincing victors in those games and pit them against each other a week later in a national championship game. It's not a perfect system, but it's better than the current, much-criticized methodology.

But my wife won't like it. It will still mean a lot of good games on the TV, and I'll find a large number of them interesting enough to watch, at least for a while.