Okay, I understand why I’m an American football fan. I started watching hockey with my dad when I was 13, and soon branched into watching almost every sport I could find on TV. (Yeah, I watch curling.) American football (different from the international term “football,” which some of us know as “soccer”) is exciting, strategic, and often just a big, dramatic circus to watch. It’s my favourite way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
But football is also a really, REALLY violent sport, more violent than a lot of other sports. The basic concept of the sport, for those who don’t know, is that two teams line up along the width of a 100-yard field, with one team (offense) throwing and running the ball, trying to go forward toward the end zone to score points, and the other team (defense) trying to prevent them from getting there. If the offensive team doesn’t advance far enough after a few tries (downs), the teams switch and the other team tries to go the other way.
There are lots of rules about what you can and can’t do to try to stop the other team from getting past you, but some of the most common tactics are blocking (throwing your weight against someone to keep them from pushing past) and tackling (grabbing someone and bringing them down to the ground, sometimes landing on top of them). Players are understandably heavily padded with protective equipment. Concussions are common. Often, the bigger the hit, the louder the cheers.
It’s not actually the violence in the game that disturbs me about my fanship of the National Football League (NFL), although I should probably think about it more often than I do. What’s really been getting me lately is the culture of violence, racism and misogyny that’s spilling out of the game and into the personal lives of a number of NFL players – and the way these cases are treated by the league, the media and the fans of the game.







