LIFE AFTER
Written by Paul Landis Delaune
I’m a guy who loves professional football. I’m not talking about
soccer, mind you. I’m talking about the
N-F-L.
The National Football League. Just the thought of pro football sends
tingles up my spine and
excitement
into my brain. It’s a game of basic power. Raw power.
One line of men going against another
line
of men. Mano e mano. One man knocks the other on his butt or
vice versa.
For me, pro football is a religion. Names like Jim Thorpe, George
Halas, Norm Van Brocklin, Joe
Namath,
James Brown, Don Shula, O.J. Simpson, Mean Joe Green, and Walter Payton
are saints who
have
gone before and helped shape the game into the competitive spectacle it
is today.
Then
there are the holy places where gridiron ghosts have grunted and bled throughout
the decades:
Soldier
Field, Three Rivers Stadium, the Orange Bowl, Veteran’s Stadium, Candlestick
Park and the
Superdome.
And the most holy of holies to which many a fan makes a pilgrimage is Canton,
Ohio.
MILE HIGH STADIUM AND THREE RIVERS STADIUM
SOLDIER FIELD AND GIANTS STADIUM
Every July when the intensity of summer reaches its zenith can be heard
across the land the grunts of training
camp
opening as thousands of gridiron gladiators begin their first few sluggish
steps toward their ultimate
goal
- the Super Bowl. It is that time of year when hope and anticipation
clothe the hearts and souls of many a
fan
like myself. It has been a long offseason and we’ve whet our appetites
on April’s college draft, free
agency
signings and the various offseason trades.
Opening day finds us glued to our TV sets as we tune into ESPN’s extended
NFL coverage, our hearts
hanging
of every word, every interview, every preseason forecast. Then the
games start accompanied by
thousands
of cheers laced with swills of cold beer and good-natured cussing.
Dare not disturb the fan in his
boisterous
revelry for to do so is paramount to sacrilege. Yes, phones may go
unanswered, chores
undone,
and garbage not taken out, but this is pro football and the show can’t
be beat.
Which brings me to now to the beginning of February. The Super Bowl
has been played and the NFL
season
ended with the crowning of yet another world champion. It doesn’t
matter if one’s team won the
Super
Bowl, for now begins the long offseason when any scraps of football news
are chewed on, dissected and
digested
many times over for the fan is in need of his fix. And again I must
wrestle with that question that has
plagued
me countless offseasons in the past: “Is there life after pro football?”