A Few Thoughts… On (American) football

By Sandy Compton
Reader Columnist

It’s football season! I have a number of favorite teams and players — first and foremost, the Seahawks and Sam Darnold, who hasn’t played since spraining his butt, but Drew Lock seems to be doing fine. 

I also like the 49ers and Brock Purdy and the Bills and Josh Allen. I like to watch Mahomes play, but I’m tired of closeups of him chewing his mouth guard and extra tired of watching what’s-her-name (Kelce’s wife) cavorting in the private box at Arrowhead Stadium. OK. I know her name, and I think she’s pretty cool. But let her have some privacy. And let us enjoy the game without panning to her celebrations or inspecting a player’s or coach’s joy or dejection after each and every play. 

In the days before television timeouts and three-minute commercial breaks between possessions, I watched complete games. Currently, I don’t have a television hooked to anything but a DVD player, and I can’t convince myself to pay to stream games. Plus, it’s maddening to spend as much time watching cartoon bears extoll the virtues of toilet paper, the smirking jerk from Allstate, entitled folks driving really expensive cars or five replays from five different angles as I spend watching the game itself. 

So, my “secret” weapons in pursuit of keeping up with football are the NFL’s compressed highlights, which are available almost as soon as the game is over. It’s a handy way to see all the good stuff without all the stupid stuff. And already knowing who won doesn’t spoil my fun. It’s still pretty cool to see how they won, without being obliged to watch Taylor jump around in a glass box or Matthew McConaughey acting all prissy because he drives a Lincoln. Or, for God’s sake, the Allstate idiot causing and laughing at the misfortune of others. (Allstate, you will never, ever get my business unless you get rid of Mr. Disaster. Promise.)

My loyalties in football (and baseball, for that matter) are rooted in geography and lineage. When there was one televised baseball game per week (on Saturday), my Grandpa Bill was a Tacoma Giants fan because he lived in Tacoma. By extrapolation, we were both San Francisco Giants fans (Tacoma was part of the SF farm system). This association (and Joe Montana) led me to be a 49ers fan, which has faded and been resurrected several times over the years. Now, there’s Brock Purdy. Besides the plus of playing for the 49ers, he’s a truly nice guy who has risen above everybody’s expectations and still remains humble and grounded. (What a concept!)

I suppose Grandpa would have been a Seahawks fan, had there been Seahawks when he lived in Tacoma. Geographically, I suppose I might be a Broncos fan (which I sort of am) if I lived on the east side of the Divide, or maybe even a Vikings or Packers fan (which likely cannot exist in the same body). But I live in the Pacific Northwest, so the Hawks are my faves. 

My un-faves were also gained through lineage. To be a Giants fan is to dislike the Dodgers, “dislike” being a euphemism. Ergo, to be a 49ers fan is to dislike the Rams. I didn’t even like the Rams when they moved to the Midwest. A Ram is a Ram, no matter where they play. 

Dallas gained my dislike back when I was a fan of the team formerly known as the Redskins, when their rivalry was among the fiercest. In spite of Jerry Jones, I did admire Roger Staubach, and even Tom Landry, who never lost his cool — or his hat — on the sidelines like coaches seem to do with almost every close play these days. But I cheered against the Cowboys then, and I still do. Unless they are playing the Rams. 

Fandom isn’t always geographical or by inheritance. I have my reasons for liking Josh Allen. He’s a great passer who’s not afraid (or forbidden) to run the ball. But my main reason is that when he lines up behind center, he often has a big smile on his face. He loves what he does. He plays the game like a goofy kid who is having the time of his life. Mahomes does the same. 

Both SF and Seattle won this week in convincing fashion. If they play for the conference championship later this year, I’ll have to cheer for the Seahawks, I suppose, but if SF wins, I’ll have a great reason to keep watching. 

I’ll be watching on Nov. 3, as well, and cheering for a change in the power structure of our country. Right now, the score is looking pretty good. Trump’s approval rating is averaging about 35% and dropping with every rise in the price of fuel. 

Sandy Compton hasn’t had a television hooked to the larger world for a long time. He spends the time saved reading and writing books (and this column). His works are available at local bookstores, Amazon and bluecreekpress.com.