In my current church, football is spoken of with the same reverence we have for guns and the flag.
Yesterday, on two different occasions of prayer, the success of “our boys” was addressed. It sounded like a battle in Afghanistan rather than the first game of the season, which they lost.
For crying out loud, must we elevate “our boys” to deistic heights? And what about those other students, including the girls, who study hard every night, focus during classroom hours, make their high grades, and fight to increase their GPA by a fraction of a percent, so they can scrounge the little scholarship money left over from the sports funds.
Not to mention the starving wages we pay teachers who equip our kids with paltry things like algebra, English, history, chemistry, and computer technology.
Sports is the religion of America. We worship the fast runners and the high scorers. We debate the significance of the short pass and special teams, like they did in my church kitchen yesterday.
It’s a losing proposition, I know. I’ve learned not to fight it. In fact, I use it. Sports is a good metaphor. Sports teaches people to try hard. It’s there, so we I’ll use it to get their attention and teach what I can.
But I think it’s ridiculous.