A recent slew of football deaths have shaken many who follow the game. Research is increasingly suggesting that there may well be definable links between the blunt trauma of football and the early deaths of players. This body of evidence raises weighty questions on a seemingly quotidian matter. Should we support football? Evidence increasingly suggests that the violence of the modern game tests the limits of the biblically informed conscience.
Cases like that of Nathan Stiles (reported by ESPN’s Outside the Lines series) drive such discussion. An A student, beloved by his church congregation, Nathan eluded tacklers like an avatar in a video game. In his final football game in September 2010, he covered the last thirty yards alone, leaving his would-be tacklers behind, a hero to his team and Kansas town. That night, he lay in a hospital bed, lost to the world. By the next morning, he had passed away, the homecoming king dead from a bleeding brain.
Should we play football? This question should not be as weighty as it may sound. Football is a game. Yet the sport, as sports will do, has cast a spell on many. Over 1 million secondary students and 3 million youth play football. At the university level, schools pour money into football programs, with some coaches earning salaries topping four million dollars. The 2010 Super Bowl was watched by 106 million people, the highest viewing audience recorded in this country.
What’s wrong with all this? Football, after all, has many—and manly—benefits. As Teddy Roosevelt argued a century ago, it breeds toughness and courage. It builds a team spirit, a willingness to sacrifice oneself for a greater good: the welfare of the team. It is great fun to play. On a societal level, there are few mass engagements today that do as much to unite diverse folks in common cause. On a spiritual level, it can afford opportunities for meaningful connection and witness.
Stories questioning the safety of football have appeared in such leading publications as the New York Times (with Alan Schwarz covering the issue in depth), NPR, GQ, and The Atlantic, though the issue has struggled to penetrate the broader national consciousness. When one takes a moment to confront the issue and examine the data, one quickly sees that the problem is far more serious than many think.
One memorable study by the University of North Carolina and reported by Malcolm Gladwell in the New Yorker traced the impact of helmet-to-helmet collisions in one practice on a lineman. The researchers found over the course of two practices this player suffered from a 63-g hit, a 64-g hit, an 80-g hit, and a 98-g hit. To simulate a 98-g hit, one could drive one’s car into a concrete wall going twenty-five miles per hour. The force felt by hitting the windshield without protection is akin to the impact of this hit.
Even with today’s enhanced helmets and careful staff monitoring, it seems that full-contact football exacts a brutal cost, one that boils down most ominously to an acronym: CTE. Chronic traumatic encephalopathy is the disease caused by repeated collision between brain and skull. We can’t see it, obviously, but doctors identify it when they spot an excess of gray matter in a certain area of the brain. Once CTE was most commonly seen in soldiers; now doctors are regularly spotting it in the brains of deceased athletes. When the brain is abused over and over again, it sometimes ceases to function well—and in some cases, ceases to function.
The stories that fit this mold are startling. Owen Thomas, the much-loved captain of University of Pennsylvania’s football team, suffered from CTE and hanged himself in April 2010. Brian Colvin, a high-school player from South Carolina, died walking back to the huddle after a routine play in 2010. Douglas Morales of New Jersey died in 2008 from bleeding in the brain suffered from football contact. In May 2010, Dylan Steigers passed away during a scrimmage at Eastern Oregon University from the same fate—bleeding in the brain. Spencer Juarez of Hollywood, just thirteen years old, passed away in 2009 from “massive cerebral edema due to blunt head trauma” according to the L.A. Times. Former Philadelphia Eagle Andre Waters, was a father of three and a popular coach who battled depression and finally killed himself at age forty-three in 2006. Researchers have found evidence of CTE in his brain. These names are just a few of the more than 50 players that have died football-related deaths since 1997. The same trail of bodies is surely not found in track, golf, or tennis.
Football injures many more than it kills. The number of reported concussions suffered in football each year is estimated at 100,000, a number that experts suspect is considerably lower than the number of actual concussions. This is to say nothing of injuries to other parts of the body which have left many relatively young former players with ailments common among people two to three decades older. The glory of the game is great, but so is the toll.
Many of us believe that a just life in this world may mean that we pay a price for worthy causes. But is this cause worthy? While acknowledging that we cannot safety-proof the lives of our children and that no one can resist the pull of Providence, we must question a sport which on a regular basis calls its players to pay the ultimate cost for their participation. Young boys walk onto a field full of dreams and drop dead an hour later, shedding this life like they once shed tacklers.
Americans love toughness. We applaud the ones who get hit and get back up. As we watch from home or stadium, a wide receiver catches a pass over the middle and gets hit so hard his head nearly touches his back. When he returns to his feet, shaken and off-kilter, the crowd cheers and normalcy resumes.
Perhaps we are being blindsided as well. Our love for the game and respect for its players may well prevent us from recognizing the realities of football and other high-contact sports. While we would not wish to indict the uninformed and slander the well-intentioned, we must ask ourselves if we need a new ethical normal, one that takes honest stock of the physical cost of football.
Life is hard, and physical exertion is a part of recreation and play, but surely there are limits to our toleration of violence that is not absolutely necessary. We would not allow our children to bruise one another with two-by-fours until they fall, bleeding, to the ground. While recognizing that not every child suffers the gravest consequences of contact sports, we ought to question why we allow football to damage and even kill our children or dismiss the question because they’re not our children.
No one enjoys legalism, but if the costs of football outweigh its benefits—and they well may—it may be best for many to take a step back from it and point youths to concentrate on less violent sports. Perhaps we should go so far as to consider legislation regarding the physical safety of football players on such matters as concussions. Ideas will vary as to what such a measure might look like. However, such a tangible measure, borne of respect for human dignity and concern for the public good, would help greatly in stimulating the American conscience on a matter that presently struggles to hold its attention.
Such action has a strong theoretical foundation. In a very different situation, our Lord urged Peter to resist needless violence (John 18:11). Christians have continued this tradition throughout history and have applied the biblical conscience to a variety of causes, including recreation. Whether one considers the cessation of the gladiatorial games in the days of the early church, the ending of savage bestial games in Wilberforce’s day, or the banning of dueling in the nineteenth century, Christians have often led the culture in critical analysis of its pastimes.
Having thought carefully and well, Christians today must emulate their Lord in standing up for the frail dignity of humanity, whether the unborn child, the victim of religious persecution, or the homecoming king—the boy who in his death, as in his final touchdown run, passed alone into his rest, uncaught, with no foe left to pursue.
Owen Strachan is Instructor of Christian Theology and Church History at Boyce College and a graduate of Bowdoin College.
Comments:
Football is harmful in many other ways as well. The preoccupation with big-time college football is, quite frankly, something bizarre: What on earth does high-profile athleticism by persons who are often barely literate, let alone truly prepared for a college education, have to do with the actual enterprise that university life is supposed to be all about? I believe this unnatural marriage between higher education and big-time football (this also applies to big-time college basketball) can be shown to corrupt and degrade the enterprise of higher education in many ways.
I say this as an admitted fan, with a mild-to-moderate interest, in the fortune of the New England Patriots. I am paying some degree of attention to their fortunes this fall, but with mixed feelings: In the two falls past, concerns such as the ones articulated in this blog post caused me to boycott interest in the sport entirely.
Actually football was banned by many schools during the Roosevelt era due to the brutality (and deaths) it caused. The NCAA was born out of this "football crisis" in 1906. Roosevelt and others championed a 'reform' of the game to make it less brutal. Football has never been innocuous.
That being said players are clearly bigger stronger and faster than they were 100 years ago.
For young children, the force (mass x acceleration) is simply not strong enough. Pop Warner players push, shove and pull in harmless fun, not combat. Injuries in high school leagues are more common from dehydration and poor technique. The college and pro leagues could benefit from reduced live scrimmaging in practice.
The NFL's recently revised policy on helmet to helmet hits is worthwhile but misdirected. As the author notes, daily sub-concussive yet severe hits in practice are the most dangerous. Linemen, linebackers and fullbacks are more at risk than poster boy quarterbacks.
It would be interesting to see statistics on injuries sustained by, say, Rugby or Australian Rules Football players. My guess is that they may have a higher number of small injuries (joints, broken bones perhaps), but lack the number of concussions and amount of head trauma. Perhaps someone has an idea?
Qoheleth, in terms of Roosevelt-era football, I'm not sure that the era's violence was reined-in. One commenter noted the use of leather helmets in the period; I'm guessing that the sport caused a good amount of damage in the early twentieth century, too, though not necessarily a fully equivalent amount.
CoEM, you're quite right, and the undue attention given football is worth a separate treatment. Shirl Hoffman has raised this issue in recent years in Christianity Today. I commend that article to you, along with the book "Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer."
DBP's question is a good one. There is of course no true north on this exact matter given us by Scripture or any other ethical authority--how many deaths can we tolerate before we shut down/modify a sport? However, the inclusion of the NYT stat on deaths in football--at least 50 since 1997--relates here. A freak death will happen in most any area of life, whether ping-pong or a country stroll. 50 deaths in just over a decade, however, seems noteworthy. The chorus of commentators covering the issue (listed in part in the article) suggests that others may agree.
Gladwell, for the record, concludes his piece on much the same note, wondering whether our society is not called by the violence of modern football to end it, or at the very least significantly modify it. Chuck's realist perspective speaks to where many are, and there is perhaps no more significant obstacle to ethical reconstruction than market forces (much as I am a proponent of the free market). Past victories on major moral issues, however, gives me a mustard seed of hope on this point.
A simple Googling produces Injuries Sustained by Rugby Players Presenting to United States Emergency Departments, 1978 Through 2004 from the Journal of Athletic Training, Injuries Sustained by High School Rugby Players in the United States, 2005-2006 (PDF) from the Archives of Pediatric and Adolescent Medicine, and Rugby Injury Breakdown from Training-Conditioning.com. The last article states: "One of the first questions that comes to mind is just how dangerous is rugby? The good news is that U.S. youth rugby appears to be safer than international youth rugby. U.S. high school rugby injury rates are much lower than rugby injury rates in countries such as New Zealand and the United Kingdom. How do they compare to other U.S. sports? High school rugby injury rates among males are very similar to football injury rates. For girls, rugby injury rates are about twice as high as injury rates seen in soccer.
It seems to me that before one sends football to the deep six that one should be concentraing on profesional boxing particulary as it relates to the purpose of the sport.
I understand that in the courts if a layperson is hit by a profesional boxer that he may well be charged in court for Murder.
Clement P. Cunningham MD
Two of my sons have played high-school football. The older one emerged relatively unscathed, with only a broken wrist (which briefly required a steel plate to be screwed to the bones) to show for it. The younger one has had two knee surgeries (I am somewhat curious to see how long it will be before insurance rates make it prohibitive for less-wealthy schools to play football).
The most horrific hit I ever witnessed, however, was administered by a teammate of my sons, to an opposing player. A 5-6, 170lb linebacker (hardly huge) rendered a lanky young receiver unconscious for several minutes, resulting in an ambulance ride for the young man. We learned later that he had fractured three cervical vertebrae, and faced a lengthy rehab just to be able to walk again, much less play football, or even swing a golf club. And I found myself wondering about that young man, and his parents, and whether they had ever imagined they would find themselves in those circumstances.
All of which is, admittedly, anecdotal. And, aside from the ability to predict the weather with their joints, my sons will be fine, at least until arthritis becomes an issue for them in later life. But three broken vertebrae, and 100,000 concussions, and x-number of cripplings and deaths start to dim my enthusiasm the least bit, and make me wonder if there isn't something fundamentally inhuman about the game, at least as it is played today.
To shift the discussion just a bit, I wonder if there might be some merit to the leather-helmet idea. Is it possible that the amount of protective gear players wear makes them feel 'invulnerable', and tempts them to act more violently than they would if they were less well-protected? Rugby is very similar to 'American football', and the players don't wear helmets, or multiple layers of plastic armor; what are the injury or long-term disability rates relating to rugby?
Sugar is linked to weight gain, diabetes, and cancer. How many of you let their kids eat ice cream, cookies, and cake?
1) Does the game provide a means by which a large number of young men can use the gifts they've been given to obtain educational and/or economic opportunities that would almost certainly otherwise elude them? The answer is certainly yes. Some athletes waste these opportunities, but some don't.
2) Is it necessarily better to consign the athletically gifted but academically dull young man from a small town or inner city to a lifetime of menial labor (or worse) than to allow him a chance to make his fortune using his athletic ability -- even if the sport is dangerous? There's a disconnect here, as though football players should just go to law school or something. But that won't often happen -- in reality, abolishing the business of football would pull away one of the few ladders of opportunity for certain young men.
Lots of jobs are dangerous and have consequences, but certain people seek them out because their gifts or circumstances forclose other roads while providing them the ability to take the dangerous road to success.
Very quickly, I am in no way suggesting that the matter of violence relates to football alone. All of the sports just mentioned--and others--have to contend with the violence question. Football seems particularly rough, and the body trail is noticeably high. For that reason, the (very short) essay focuses on it.
Research is in the nascent stages at best in terms of the effects of violence on athletes, whether in football or other sports. However, work has been done and will continue to be done. For example, here's a rugby study: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC155428/ Here's a hockey study: http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/11/101105153213.htm Here's a boxing study: http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/16331164
Several articles on football violence have indeed argued that enhanced helmets seem to be emboldening players. There is a television commercial for Toyota, I believe, airing at present that suggests that better helmets are preventing injuries. Look into the extensive work the NYT has done on this matter, however (go here and click on "Head Injuries in Football," the main article: http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/subjects/f/football/head_injuries/index.html Better helmets have indeed reduced skull fractures, but concussions have risen even as the helmets have improved.
For the vast majority of men, there is a need to cultivate virtues associated with toughness, courage, teamwork, and just plain grit. I say "vast majority" because there may be some who due to patrimony or position don't need to be agressive. But the ordinary man, as head of his household, will find his courage challenged on a daily basis.
If, as the article suggest, millions of kids are playing football and there have been approximately 50 deaths, this hardly amounts to a "body trail". In fact, the choice of words (body trail) suggests a prejudiced position on the part of the author. It amounts to a chance of death on the order of 1 in 100,000. As someone suggested, it is possibly more dangerous to ride in a car than to play football.
There is a genuine benefit to playing football - injuries and all. Actually, football is probably the most controlled form of agression in which men have engaged over the history of the species. In order to raise men, there is no substitute for danger. I will take the controlled danger of football to the alternatives.
Note that nearly all points above can point in both directions. Improved helmets and neck braces do make young people feel invulnerable (as if they needed any encouragement) - but that is also true of seat belts, and condoms. The popularity of sports gives opportunities for the young and poor, if they choose the risk - but poor neighborhoods also have many athletic washouts who never developed other skills. Certain that they had a ticket out, they did not see that they weren't quite that good, or they got injured.
The challenge and esprit d' corps are valuable social goods - but these can also occur in even more violent games which we would certainly ban. Or in less violent games.
An interesting sidetrack: I wonder how many of the safer sports crowd at the NYT, NPR, GQ, and The Atlantic, recognising that young people may not be evaluating the risks accurate or giving fully informed consent, are also deeply pro-choice and opposed to parental notification and waiting periods. That would seem inconsistent.
Apparently, the degree of debilitation on a broad scale is so severe that it cuts about 20 years off the life-expectancy of the average NFL player. I was not aware of this, and it is rather shocking, is it not? It makes the question of death as a direct result of football not merely a narrow concern affecting only a small number of players at the level of the NFL, but quite a broad one indeed!
And again, these life-expectancy figures come mainly from a pool of players who played in an era that involved slower, smaller players, and therefore less debilitating wear-and-tear. All the broad-scale ill effects of the past are going to be amplified during the retirement years of current and more recent cohorts of players. They will be even further amplified, I should think, by the increasing tendency to bulk up one's body in unnatural ways, using steroids, growth hormones, protein supplements, and the like. There is a price to be paid in the long run for those who opt to increase their bulk in these unnatural fashions.
Until the end of the First World War, baseball was a low-scoring game of bunts, walks and stolen bases. Then, when league officials juiced up the ball, it became a high-scoring game of extra-base hits.
Throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, boxers fought bare-knuckle. Without gloves, hitting an opponent in the head was potentially painful business, so fighters preferred grappling and going for the body. For that reason, and because fighters were given relatively long breaks, matches could drag on for hours. The adoption of the Marquess of Queensberry rules changed all that; matches became shorter and much many more head shots and much more blood.
I'm guessing you cuold find similar patterns of evolution in any sport. Here's the point: making football somehow less lethal sounds like a fine idea, but in order to maintain the public's interest in the game, you've got to offer some compensation. If there are no bulldozer hits, there has to be something else worth watching. What that might be, I'm not a big enough fan of the game to say, but without it, the stadiums will be empty apart from a few dozen very happy moralists. And I doubt there are enough of those to keep teams in business.
Not sure about that. These earlier eras were also light years behind the modern day in the practice of medicine and sports training, the equipment was less protective, and the rules less restrictive.
Fundamentally, though, yes you can get seriously hurt playing football. That may be a sound basis for individuals to choose not to play, but it's hardly a basis for banning the game. If the Lord wills it you'll be seriously injured riding a bicycle or walking across the street.
As a former rugby player, I know that when you aren't wearing protection, you are more careful what you do with your body. All that armor makes the players feel invincible, when in actuality they are not. Of course, rugby is also different in that you have continuous play. That may be another reason for the explosive hits in football - the constant interruptions encourage the players to hit as hard and run as hard as possible during every second of game time, whereas in rugby you need to pace yourself.
I did want to respond to the argument of Anthony and TB and others on the relative nature of football deaths. CoEM is exactly right about the broader scope of violence in the game; the picture is far more statistically diverse--and thus worse--than it might seem by a glance at the total number of deaths since 1997, for example.
On this point, if you look back at the piece, you'll see that I am concerned with current NFL players, yes, but my group extends far beyond the roughly 1000 elite players at the highest level of the game, many of whom are at least somewhat aware of the risks inherent in their profession. A major concern of mine are children like Nathan Stiles (and those much younger, like 13-year-old Spencer Juarez) who may have heard of concussions or whatever else but who have seemingly little sense of the toll that competitive football as hit after hit after hit accumulates year by year. It's one thing for me as an adult to take risks with full knowledge of the potential consequences; it's another for a parent to send their child into a game that is rabidly competitive and brutally physical, knowing little about possible outcomes.
One more thought on the "50 deaths isn't comparatively as dangerous as crossing the road" argument. I hear that argument and appreciate the critical thought. As I explore in the final few paragraphs of the piece, we expect death in certain areas of life--war, driving cars at high speeds, cliff jumping. We do not expect them, though, in other areas of life--eating hamburgers, putting our toddlers into cribs, and playing sports as all-American as football.
If three people die from eating a hamburger that millions have eaten, that burger has a low death rate, right? But we know from history that such incidents have caused an uproar, and rightly so. Why? Because we do not expect hamburgers to kill us (at least not overnight). My argument is that Nathan Stiles and his fellow deceased football players did not expect that the game would kill them. Unlike cliff jumping, for example, they seemed to have little clue of the danger of the game they played. That's when the alarm goes off for us, right? When something safe, though rough, proves itself, without prior warning, to be far more frighteningly dangerous than once thought.
The tone of the (very brief) essay above reflects this basic premise. Nathan's parents--and other parents like Owen Thomas's--were stunned by his death. They knew of concussions, but they didn't know that they might kill their boy. That makes all the difference.
So the point of the piece is not, as some have said, to call out for an all-out ban of football (I haven't) or to push for a pain-free world where everybody gets a trophy and a kiss on the cheek (I detest this, and love competition, even fierce competition, such that I have bruised my tailbone, torn my Achilles tendon, and nearly lost two teeth playing basketball over three decades), but
to make the seemingly obvious point that football is more dangerous than we know and that this needless danger calls Christians who have a heritage of critical reflection on sports to consider our role in the game.
This kind of shift happens all the time. If four babies die in crib malfunctions, we don't say, well, cribs break. We fix the cribs. If hamburgers start killing people, we look at the food source. If young people drop dead while playing seemingly innocuous though rough sports, we reexamine it. Or at least I hope we would, not to sanitize our lives but to save the lives of the innocent and stand up for human dignity.
Another law of rugby is that when the ball is in the air, players must play the ball and not the man. It is here that American football gets more and more dangerous. The two most defenseless players in American football are the quarterback who stands in the pocket to pass the ball and the receiver who runs down the field with his single focus being the football...often not seeing ane/or anticipating the defenders that are ready to tackle him. Yet the rule makers continue to modify rules to limit what defenders are allowed to do to defend the pass. Defenders respond by going after the quarterbacks and receivers with harder and harder hitting since it is their only alternative...and it ends up making the game more and more dangerous. The rule makers, in my opinion, have no one to blame but themselves. And why do they continue to change the rules in favor of passing? It seems clear that the business of footbal is build celebrity players that can be marketed and for most teams, the celebrity player is the quarterback.
Better yet, since we are at war, how about a moratorium on pro-sports, and send all the grown men to Afghanistan who would otherwise waste their talents chasing a children's ball in a children's game, or racing big Hot Wheels. I heard the Marines want good atheletes. Let's see who is a real hero, not a contrived one. Leave the games for kids to play.
I'm quite confident most readers will roll their eyes at my outlook, but I went to a pro football game recently (out of politeness and curiosity and admittedly some recollection of youthful exuberance), and it couldn't be more obvious that fans are indulging in idolatry. Americans spend far more time watching sports than praying. And we spend far more money and time on this frivolity than on charity. Our kids know more about players than saints; about the rules of the various games than their catechism.
This is one more golden calf. Fun is good. Worship (to the point of spending endless hours in practice, and very large expenditures for equipment, facilities, travel and the often hidden expenses associated with injuries) is a serious sin.
†
(a) eliminate helmets - They are merely false security and used as weapons
(b) establish rules with stiff enough penalties so that football returns to what I consider wrap or arm tackling.
Fans who want the violence can go watch mixed martial arts. The rest of us can continue to enjoy football as a sport.
Back on track: Thanks for the article. It's definitely a discussion worth having.
I understand what you are saying, but I don't think you want to be saying it the way that you are. Because if you really mean what you say, then we should be applying the logic of your argument to far worse things than football. To illustrate, I have taken the liberty of re-working a few of your paragraphs where my words are in caps (not yelling) and yours remain lowercase:
"A recent slew of AUTO FATALITIES have shaken many who DRIVE CARS. Research is increasingly suggesting that there may well be definable links between the DRIVING CARS and the early deaths of DRIVERS. This body of evidence raises weighty questions on a seemingly quotidian matter. Should we support DRIVING? Evidence increasingly suggests that the violence of the modern MACHINE tests the limits of the biblically informed conscience."
"Perhaps we are being blindsided as well. Our love for CARS and respect for its DRIVERS may well prevent us from recognizing the realities of DRIVING and other high-contact TRANSPORTATION. While we would not wish to indict the uninformed and slander the well-intentioned, we must ask ourselves if we need a new ethical normal, one that takes honest stock of the physical cost of DRIVING."
"No one enjoys legalism, but if the costs of DRIVING outweigh its benefits—and they well may—it may be best for many to take a step back from it and point youths to concentrate on less violent TRANSPORTATION. Perhaps we should go so far as to consider legislation regarding the physical safety of DRIVERS on such matters as ACCIDENTS. Ideas will vary as to what such a measure might look like. However, such a tangible measure, borne of respect for human dignity and concern for the public good, would help greatly in stimulating the American conscience on a matter that presently struggles to hold its attention."
If you have this ethical problem with football, how can you not have the same ethical dilemma driving your own car?
The most pressing concern, then, are injuries. Here again, the data does not support a blanket conclusion that football is getting more dangerous over the history of the game. There have been years and decades where certain injuries increased and, so far, in each case, as these trends reveal themselves, the various governing bodies respond (research, improved equipment, pointed rule changes, better understanding of conditions, etc...).
So we're left with high profile events to drive our fear. We can all point to specific horrific events on a ball field that we've heard or read about. Yet, like reasoned folks, we need to look at the continuous data before arriving anywhere near conclusions...unless, of course, we're already biased against sports like football. In this case, pretty much any argument in support of our concern bias will do.
Think that you're immune from this type of argument? Let's look at an example from (mostly) outside football. Ask yourself two questions 1) What are your views on anabolic steroids and the health of adult athletes? 2) On what do you base these views? When we hear the terms "steroids" and "performance enhancing drugs", our minds turn to high profile cases largely reported to us rather than to any specific or set of peer reviewed studies on these supplements. We just "know" that steroids are bad, right?
Owen starts his last paragraph with "Having thought carefully and well..." On this I heartily agree. Before we begin making declarative statements about football (on the way to making a larger point about Christian duty), let's pause, take a breath, fire up our mental research engines and go through the process of thinking carefully and well.
Your point about decreasing fatality rates is an interesting one. I suppose that one's perspective on this statistic depends on one's approach to death in youth sports. I am personally glad that fatalities have decreased (though I would note that fatalities suffered indirectly from football are much harder to track). This reality, however, should not mean that we do not question--strongly--the death rate in football. I argued in the comments that the death rate is alarming because football is a seemingly innocuous game--it's not war, it's not even cliff-diving. It's a fun sport. Death is real. It happens all the time. We grow concerned about death, however, when it seems to crop up in seemingly harmless activities--playing football, eating hamburgers, putting a baby to sleep in a crib.
We can't death-proof anything. But my contention is that just as we grow concerned when we hear of even isolated incidents of, for example, cribs malfunctioning and children suffocating, so we grow concerned when we hear of boys dying in after-school practice. If we were sending children to war, we and they would know that death could well claim them. The same cannot be said of football. My purpose in writing was to raise an alarm about this reality for citizens and parents like the Stiles' who had seemingly little awareness of the risk posed their son by football.
The concussion factor is no small matter, nor is nascent research showing that many football players are falling prey to diseases and ailments common to much older folks. Ted Johnson, for example, has Alzheimer's. An ESPN story noted that 44-year-old Andre Waters's brain looked like an 85-year-old brain. Though helmets have gotten stronger, concussions are rising. That's a big deal.
Jonathan, in your well-reasoned reply, you state "We can all point to specific horrific events on a ball field that we've heard or read about." But that's just the thing--I don't hear of people dying unexpectedly on the tennis court. I don't hear about former golfers going insane and killing their children. In my own research, I hear about these things most often from football players and other alumnae of violent, high-contact sports. That's a serious matter in my book. Yes, injury and even death is a part of football. "Horrific events" happen in it. But while noting that we can't death-proof anything, do we accept too much? This is the point I'm trying to raise, one Christians raised in shutting down the gladiatorial games, or animal death-matches in Wilberforce's day, or dueling in the 19th century.
Finally, I have no bias against football. I love contact, very competitive sports and played them with gusto. I want to think with reason. It's possible at the end of the day that you and I and others may disagree on this matter, but I suppose the best we can do is to be honest about the data and consider it carefully from a biblical perspective, informed by the wisdom of the past. Thanks for challenging me--helps to sharpen my thinking.
it in a game or beating up you neighbor it's the same thing. I mean, whats the point? Why don't professional and college leagues play flag football? I know why, because some part of human nature likes to see pain inflicted. I ask you, how is football good for us? How is it good for the players? What is it teaching our children? Football in its current form (tackle football) teaches violence is profitable and good for us.


