This week I came across this outstanding article , What I saw as a NFL Ball Boy, by a former Chicago Bears ball boy Eric Kester, and to say the least it disturbed me. Not much disturbs, especially when it comes to sports and all of the nonsense that occurs these days, but this one truly bugged me. I highly encourage everyone to read it, but in summary the author details his time as a ball boy for the 2003 Chicago Bears. At the time he was a ball boy, he was 17 years old. As a 17 year old, as he describes, his most trusty tool was smelling salts. Smelling salts used to revive players after having their bell rung by forceful hits on the field. He goes on to detail how often times he was asked to blatantly give the smelling salts out of the view of probing television camera, or watchful photographer. He further recounts in the article how after games he would have to separate players' laundry, laundry that was sometimes stained with feces because a player had been hit so hard he lost control of his central nervous system.
Wow. I read this article in shock and horror and disgust. As I read it, I thought to my little boy who loves playing football. He's just now starting to watch the game more and more and ask questions and become interested, but he loves playing. As I read this article, I didn't question whether or not I should continue to allow him to play, I started to question whether I should allow him to continue to WATCH. Look, I'm not naive, I know football is a game that on every single play violence happens. Concussions and the long term harmful effects of them are widely discussed in the news and there is no denying that those concerns are legitimate. I also know that athletes get paid millions of dollars, and to a degree they acknowledge the risks of the profession they've chosen. Hopefully concussion and head trauma protocol continue to improve and although the dangers will never be eliminated, hopefully reduced. However, even acknowledging those facts I have to question whether or not I should continue to push watching and enjoying the game on my son, and likely very soon my daughter.
The easy answer is, yes. Yes, I should absolutely not let my children watch football, and sure as hell should never consider letting them play. Here's the problem. This past weekend my son played his last flag football game of the season, and the stakes were high. His team was the only undefeated team in the league, they had come together as a cohesive unit led by two great coaches, and they all wanted to finish the season without a loss. It meant something to them, they were in it together. It was a truly inspiring display of teamwork, cohesion, and togetherness that are all the best parts of sports. It was tight game, with both teams scoring only two touchdowns. The difference was the extra points. So, late in the game with the other team driving, they scored the tying touchdown, and were an extra point away from ruining an undefeated season. As they attempted their conversion run towards my son's side of the field...he made the stop. He pulled the flag and he jumped up and pumped his fist with pure joy. PURE JOY. There are things that make my son very happy, this was one of the few things in his young life that I could outwardly see made him proud. He understood what he accomplished and it meant something to him, meant something to his team. You can't replace that, you can't duplicate that. How do I deny him that feeling? I know that as he gets closer to playing tackle football my wife and I will need to have some serious discussions about whether or not he should play. I don't look forward to those days. In the interim every time he sits next to me during a football game I will be paying very close attention to how I react to big hits, and bone jarring plays. Instead I know I'll be pointing out those picture perfect heads up tackles around the waist that we so rarely see these days.
