Colin Kaepernick says he will stand for national anthem next season. Too little, too late, I say to this second-rate halfrican quarterback. I have already quit watching professional football for the foreseeable future. I watched not even one full game this past season, and what I did watch was incidental, because the game was on in the background while I was out and about. I didn’t even watch the Super Bowl on TV because they weren’t going to get any Nielsen ratings for me. I have over the course of my life spent far too much time, money, and personal anguish on something that is increasingly antagonistic to me and my people.
What does the NFL represent anymore? It used to be a game for working-class people with guys stayed in one team for their entire careers, then retired and remained in that city. Gino Marchetti, Art Donovan, and Johnny Unitas we’re all fixtures and Baltimore long after they retired. You see that kind of loyalty very rarely these days. Is about toughness? Not really. Guys constantly end up on the disabled list, and numerous rules been passed protect marquee players from injury. Is it about patriotism? Obviously not, considering so many of the players take a knee during the anthem, and that’s just the protesters. Many more don’t put their hand over their heart and don’t even bother mouthing the words. It’s something like a formality they’re forced to observe against their will before they get to the game. If we listen to pansy-ass commissioner Roger Goodell and consider who the NFL books for performances and its stated positions on social issues, it’s about women’s issues, transgender rights, social justice, and minority empowerment.
Here is what football consists of nowadays. We pass up on things we need to do around the house and any physical activity in order to watch a hundred or so guys, many of whom would be in prison for on work release if they weren’t playing professional sports, who have no loyalty to a city or a team, compete against each other in a watered-down form of a once-proud game. They occasionally wear pink shoes to show they care about women’s issues, despite the fact that a large portion of them have been or are currently being charged with domestic violence or rape. After every play they cut away to a commercial so as not to miss as second of revenue. You then have the pleasure of explaining to your young children what erectile dysfunction is since every other commercial is for Viagra or Cialis. There are more commercials than action in any given football game. And this is if you watch the game at home. If you decide to go to the stadium, you can expect to spend a ridiculous amount of money to attend the game. By comparison, for not much more you could take your family to one of the Disney theme parks for the entire day. I could go off on Disney, but I’ll save that for another time, like later today. Right now let’s stick to what is fucked up about football. After you spent hundred dollars just to get into the park, you can go through its ridiculous security hassle put in place because of our fine Muslim friends and their tendency to blow up crowded areas full of civilians. Next you can pay somewhere between six and eight dollars for a lousy draft beer, and stand in ridiculously lines to obtain it, missing whatever portion of the game you could see form your shitty vantage point. After watching the game, you can then wait half an hour to get out of the stadium as you flight slow-moving human traffic, take a detour to piss out some of that overpriced beer you processed while you waited, and then wait another hour in stadium traffic to get back onto the highway after a lengthy walk to whatever overpriced parking garage you used. Real fun.
Let’s not forget that your city has undoubtedly spent millions of taxpayer dollars to build a stadium for a team that in all likelihood may not be there in 10 years. However, to defer some of the cost to the taxpayer, the league doesn’t allow the city to name the stadium. The city goes along with this to save a few bucks, and instead some lame corporation who will be out of business before long gets to slap its moniker on your city’s stadium that you helped pay for in exchange for forking over millions of dollars that will in no way trickle down to you. What do you gain from all this? What’s the point? It made more sense when the players reflected American values and demographically were more representative of the country. It made more sense before the ridiculous cap system was put in place that incentivized players to jump from Team to team and for many owners to put little effort into improving their franchise. But it doesn’t make all that much sense now. Why do we waste valuable time on the one day of rest we get to fund an organization that employs violent criminals and that is openly antagonistic to its core audience?
I got tired of it, so I quit watching. I honestly don’t feel like I missed anything. Without having to spend my entire evening watching the Super Bowl, I still got you enjoy Tom Brady and Bill Belichick stuffing it to the liberal media. I put the rest of the time I saved by not watching football to good use as well. What did I do? Nothing in particular. But nothing worse than I would have done had I watched the games. I felt no sense of loss, because I did not give up anything that mattered. Football stopped giving me pleasure quite some time ago. It started to wear on my nerves when the aforementioned trends began, and this last season was a bridge too far. If the NFL wants to be a bunch of social justice warriors, it’s a private business and that is up to them. But there’s no way I’m going to subsidize it, and in fact, I’m hoping to in some small way contribute to its downfall. It appears that I’m not alone in this. So wherever Colin Kaepernick goes to be a third string quarterback next season, I won’t be watching to see what he does during the national anthem. I’ll be doing something much more productive, like rearranging my underwear drawer.