The Greyhound
Matt Kiebus
Issue date: 9/2/08 Section: Sports
elcome back to another year of shenanigans and good-hearted foolishness in the Charm City. This is the time of the year when old friends reunite, summer fades, leaves change color, the Mets hopefully don't choke, and most importantly, football season starts.
The return of college football and the NFL help create the man-weekend-paradise. No longer do I have to watch Aaron Heilman and the rest of the Met bullpen implode. Now I get to watch the Buffalo Bills consistently disappoint me.
Call me old fashioned, but my heart lies on the college gridiron rather than with the corporate NFL. Imagine being at the Big House in Ann Arbor and hearing "Hail to the Victors" while being surrounded by a sea of maize and blue. For one second, think of being a sousaphone player (it looks like a tuba) who grew up in Ohio, and on one glorious Saturday afternoon you are sent out to the middle of the field at the Horseshoe in Columbus in front of 100,000
people with the honor of dotting the 'I'.
You can't help but admire the commitment and creativity of the student sections that drink for hours in advance at intrepid paces and then proceed to scream their lungs out in unison. From the whiteouts at Beaver Stadium at Penn State, to the orange crush at Neyland Stadium in Tennessee, the massive crowds and school spirit leave me awestruck.
Waking up on Saturday mornings to watch the ESPN Game Day crew and the minor riot that occurs behind them is the perfect way to nurse the Friday night hangover. Lee Corso dons mascot heads while growing moderately more senile with each new season. Kirk Herbstreit wows TV audiences across the nation with his charm and winning smile. The ever-steady Chris Fowler, who is excited to get away from announcing Breeder's Cup races and tennis, likes to unnecessarily throw in his opinions. Desmond Howard, well he's just happy to be there.
Don't get me wrong; I enjoy watching the NFL, and it gives men the viable reason to drink on Sundays while ignoring their wives/girlfriends/family/kids. When your favorite NFL team is the Buffalo Bills, the only losers of four straight super bowls, who haven't been to the playoffs since 1998, you'd be little bitter too. My early season hope always turns into late season misery.
The return of college football and the NFL help create the man-weekend-paradise. No longer do I have to watch Aaron Heilman and the rest of the Met bullpen implode. Now I get to watch the Buffalo Bills consistently disappoint me.
Call me old fashioned, but my heart lies on the college gridiron rather than with the corporate NFL. Imagine being at the Big House in Ann Arbor and hearing "Hail to the Victors" while being surrounded by a sea of maize and blue. For one second, think of being a sousaphone player (it looks like a tuba) who grew up in Ohio, and on one glorious Saturday afternoon you are sent out to the middle of the field at the Horseshoe in Columbus in front of 100,000
people with the honor of dotting the 'I'.
You can't help but admire the commitment and creativity of the student sections that drink for hours in advance at intrepid paces and then proceed to scream their lungs out in unison. From the whiteouts at Beaver Stadium at Penn State, to the orange crush at Neyland Stadium in Tennessee, the massive crowds and school spirit leave me awestruck.
Waking up on Saturday mornings to watch the ESPN Game Day crew and the minor riot that occurs behind them is the perfect way to nurse the Friday night hangover. Lee Corso dons mascot heads while growing moderately more senile with each new season. Kirk Herbstreit wows TV audiences across the nation with his charm and winning smile. The ever-steady Chris Fowler, who is excited to get away from announcing Breeder's Cup races and tennis, likes to unnecessarily throw in his opinions. Desmond Howard, well he's just happy to be there.
Don't get me wrong; I enjoy watching the NFL, and it gives men the viable reason to drink on Sundays while ignoring their wives/girlfriends/family/kids. When your favorite NFL team is the Buffalo Bills, the only losers of four straight super bowls, who haven't been to the playoffs since 1998, you'd be little bitter too. My early season hope always turns into late season misery.
What holds college football back is the postseason format. Where the BCS goes wrong, the NFL does right: playoffs.
The playoffs are the most exciting time of the year for every professional sports league, be it the NFL, NBA, MLB; and the NCAA tournament in college basketball might be the most exciting of all. However, university presidents love the money given to schools through the bowl system. They don't care about discovering the best team in college football, but hey, the Music City and Humanitarian Bowls make students and alumni giddy with excitement right?
The NFL overtime system is frankly ridiculous, and the fact that there is a possibility of a tie is such a blatantly bone-headed rule.
The college vs. pros argument stretches farther from the format of the seasons and postseason, past the fans and pre-game shows. It includes the players as well. In college, the athletes are playing for their schools, the names on their helmets, and their free educations. The percentage of college football players that go on to play professionally, whether it be in the NFL, NFL Europe, or Arena football is minuscule. College players don't play better during contract seasons. NFL players have no clue what it means to be a fan of their team.
Sure, NFL players appreciate fans' support, but do they really feel the anguish of generations of failure? Or do they even know the pain of their own defeats?
The college vs. pros argument stretches farther from the format of the seasons and postseason, past the fans and pre-game shows. It includes the players as well. In college, the athletes are playing for their schools, the names on their helmets, and their free educations. The percentage of college football players that go on to play professionally, whether it be in the NFL, NFL Europe, or Arena football is minuscule. College players don't play better during contract seasons. NFL players have no clue what it means to be a fan of their team.
Sure, NFL players appreciate fans' support, but do they really feel the anguish of generations of failure? Or do they even know the pain of their own defeats?
The college athlete knows their fan base; they live with them, go to class with them. They know what it means to be a fan. This is before they completely loose their innocence, before Escalades and mansions.
Look at football players at division three schools: they practice just as much as USC, but do they get any glory? They mostly play with fewer fans in the stands than high school teams, but the game is pure. There are no illusions of grandeur, no salary caps, no fantasy teams. Most importantly, you never have to worry about your mid-market team moving to Toronto.
Look at football players at division three schools: they practice just as much as USC, but do they get any glory? They mostly play with fewer fans in the stands than high school teams, but the game is pure. There are no illusions of grandeur, no salary caps, no fantasy teams. Most importantly, you never have to worry about your mid-market team moving to Toronto.
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