Oh, How Blessed Are Thee

Let’s face it, ladies and gentlemen- baseball is no longer our national past time. Long gone are the days where we piled on bleachers rooting for our hometown heroes as they swung their bats at hand-stitched balls covered in clay marks from the past three innings. Lost are the days where we spent hours trading cards of our favorite professional players with our friends in hopes to finally get all of our favorite players. And let us not forget the youngest victims of this untimely passing- the Little Leaguers. Yes, now is the time for us to bow our heads in silence as we say our final farewells to an era in American history.
It’s sad really, that the time has come for us to do away with our caps and gloves and pick up our helmets and pads and prepare for battle. Now is the time for us to don our war paint, our voices raised high above the clouds. For today we prepare for a more brutal display of rugged athleticism. And that war is named football.
Raise your hears high and cheer on your new heroes as they take the field and fight for downs, interceptions and touchdowns. And don’t forget to shout, “DEFENSE!” as loud as you can at the TV as if they can hear you from across the nation. Especially, this Sunday, folks. Yes, this Sunday it is imperative to make your voice be heard. It is your duty as Americans, nay, as humans, to stand up and cheer the running back on as he slips by the defense to get his second touchdown for the night. It’s your responsibility to live on the edge of your seat for those four hours on that most holiest of days- Super Bowl Sunday!
Make no mistake, SBS is the closest some people get to a religious experience on that particular day. And if you really think about it, it is fairly spiritual in nature. There is most certainly some sort of prayer before the game by the teams, plenty of praising (or at least calling out to God or Jesus) when things go both good or bad, and don’t forget the ever powerful “Hail Mary” that will inevitably be used at some point in the game to score more points before the buzzer. There is just as much religion at a football game (especially the Super Bowl) as there is in any church in America.
And why shouldn’t there be? If for no other reason than to get us to believe in the power of prayer and the magic of miracles as we watch what seems to be an insurmountable obstacle destroyed. Thank God for that last-second play from the home team! Praise Jesus we made another touchdown! Don’t take what I say as sarcasm. I am sincere when I say that the glory to football can be matched only by the glory to God. We have turned what used to be a simple sport into a demonstration of our willingness to fight for our causes. Turning the game into more of a Holy War than a feat of athleticism.
What can be more representative of our commitment to the religiosity of the game than our sanctifying of it’s heroes? We turn mortal men into demigods and demand that they perform to their absolute best while on the field lest we be damned to lose not just the game, but possibly our very souls. We look to these men to perform miracles out of thin air, we take credit for their achievements as if it was our cheering from the living room that took the player over the goal line. And all we ask in return is the right to praise them and love them as if they were personal heroes of ours.
We buy their jerseys, play video games with our heroes in them, make up fantasy teams and praise their actions as good deeds done by saints. We are the choir, the parishioners, the faithful and the fair-weather fans. We are their voices to those blind to their grace. We are the foundation for which they build their churches. And we are the ones to carry on their legacy when they are gone through replays and sports reports. We are the children of greater men and lesser gods.
So, this Sunday when you sit down to watch the game show a little reverence for what is truly a holy event in the eyes of the faithful. For we are in the presence of great men and with that comes an almost inescapable feeling of achievement of our own as we watch our heroes claim yet, another field goal before halftime. Amen.