On Super Bowl Sunday, over 110-million Americans tune in to watch football’s grand championship game. Fans cheer and grimace, drink and eat chili, spellbound by the contest for the sport’s supreme prize.
Enthusiasm envelops all of society, even presidents, plutocrats, and Paul McCartney. Few can resist the drama of the grand finale.
Only a fortunate few can afford to go to the game.
That doesn’t stop all America from watching.
Even a crack in the fence can seem pretty wide.
For few things are as thrilling as a really good game.
The agony of suspense is deeply satisfying . . .
the rapt suspense that grips and unites a vast company.
Why do we love football so, anyway?
Is it that football players channel our aspirations, reminding us of the days when we, too, played?
Does it bring back the happiness of childhood games?
Or remind us of our first date in some way?
The acrobatics, the shenanigans, the mock-murderous conflicts:
To society, they bring much-needed cartharsis.
The players, the fans, they all have their reasons.
Maybe we’ll figure out what it all means next season.
All images courtesy of the Library of Congress.
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