NFL decisions put male camaraderie at risk

Numerical figures rarely serve as sufficient evidence for any matter in dispute, but to understand how much this country loves football, one should simply consider the number 111 million. That’s how many Americans tuned in Sunday, Feb. 6, to watch Super Bowl XLV between the Packers and Steelers, making it the most watched television program in US history. January’s State of the Union Address by President Obama garnered less than a fifth of the Super Bowl’s total, even with the added advantages of being aired on all of the major networks and piggybacking strangely fascinating trash like Biggest Loser. The game’s popularity extended to our home here in Morningside Heights, where it was shown everywhere from Mel’s Burger Bar to 1020 to numerous fraternities, complemented, of course, by dozens of wings, greasy pizza, and cheap beer.

However, a gloomy explanation lies behind Sunday’s record-breaking viewership. Super Bowl XLV might be the last football game played for a long time, due to disagreements between the NFL and the players’ union.

The previous collective bargaining agreement between the league and the union expired after the 2010-11 season, and the two sides don’t seem close to agreeing on a new one. As always, money is a central issue, but another key factor is the league’s proposal of an 18-game schedule, two more than the current number. Most of the players wonder why commissioner Roger Goodell and team owners, who agreed to fine excessively violent tacklers up to $50,000 for single takedowns—supposedly out of concern for players’ health—also agreed to extend the length of the season by two weeks, increasing the risk of injury.

The looming lockout has upset football fans across the nation. Here on campus, my own floor, John Jay 6, has taken it particularly hard. We’ve realized that football is a big reason we even emerge from our 85-square-foot rooms to hang out with each other. Our dorms are not exactly conducive to socializing. Composed primarily of singles, John Jay offers the bathroom and the lounge, complete with dilapidated TV and ketchup-stained walls, for gatherings. Surrounded by unfamiliar faces, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one back in September who wondered if I’d have to venture to the allegedly boozed-out jungle that is Carman to make friends.

But I should not have doubted the unifying powers of the most popular sport in this country. Most of my conversations with my floormates eventually came to the subject of the NFL, a topic rich with subplots ranging from ex-convict quarterbacks, concussion-causing collisions, to veterans caught up in sex scandals. The beginning of the football season was our own NSOP, but actually fun and effective. We flocked to the lounge, shabby yet convenient, on Sundays, and spent as many as nine hours watching football, interrupted only by food runs. University Writing and Lit Hum homework lay untouched on our desks until almost midnight, when the day’s final game came to an end. Hailing from areas all over the country, we brought passion for our respective teams, which often led to loud debates and subsequent admonishments from our RA.

Essentially, the lockout threatens to steal from us guys the single easiest ice-breaker when it comes to male bonding. All we’ll have left will be Judd Apatow movies, first person shooter video games, and NBC comedies. We’ll be forced to drink more, not only in mourning for the loss of our favorite sport, but in order to facilitate previously nonexistent conversations about the likes of soccer and tennis. We might have to adopt the scholarly personas we faked for our applications, talking about books read and performances attended instead of the fourth-quarter comeback by the Ravens.

Perhaps our potential loss is the collateral damage that will galvanize the league and the union into action, because the true victims aren’t the owners or the players, but the helpless inhabitants of John Jay next year. Without this beloved sport, who knows if they’ll ever make any friends.