The Political Footbal

Author Tony DeMaio

One Monday a few years ago, I was chatting with my cellmate (we shared a small office). He said that he had nothing to do the previous day, so he turned on a football game. He was watching with mild interest and was somewhat pleased that the underdog was ahead and might win. He said he then noted the crowd with amazement—they were actually heavily involved and excited about the game. He didn’t understand it—they actually cared. I said that I did not understand it either, but it reminded me of the Roman Empire with its bread and circuses.

The more I thought about it, the more fascinated I became by the parallel psychology of it. The more I pondered it, the more similarity I perceived.

First of all, there are the owners of the two teams. They arrive early and go to their plush box seats. The room is air conditioned in the summer and heated in the winter. They are enclosed and somewhat soundproofed so the owners do not have to listen to the noise of the crowd. When they arrive, they are brought the receipts of the television rights and advertisements, along with a cocktail. They also get an update on any new season ticket sales and sponsors. The fans buy tickets and sit outside on hard benches in the heat/cold, and/or rain/snow/sun.

The game starts, and the owners are brought snacks, along with the results of the ticket sales. The fans get excited and cheer for their team. They buy beer, hotdogs, peanuts, and other concession foods. They buy programs and various (team) merchandise. They scream and yell and cheer in support of their team, while taunting and belittling and booing the opposing team. The owners sip their drinks and count the ticket receipts. They interview a merchandiser who wishes to sell sports paraphernalia at the games.

At half time, the owners get lunch served—the fans get a hamburger. The owners get the reports of the parking fees, and any kickback from towed vehicles. The fans are amused by the half time show. The fans scream and yell and cheer; the owners count the profits.

By the end of the third quarter, the game is winding down. The owners are enjoying after lunch drinks and chatting with each other. One of the owners asks a waiter, “What’s the score?” The fans are cheering their teams and becoming more and more agitated. A few fights break out among the fans. The owners have another drink and discuss the radio advertising receipts. They check the t.v. ratings then interview a potential future sponsor.

At the end of the game, the fans leave to fight the traffic home. Half are elated that the “enemy” has been defeated; half are dejected that their heroes have failed them and fallen. The owners get the receipts of the concession sales and toast another successful day. The owners don’t bother to discuss who won or lost—it isn’t important. They walk down to the field to be picked up by helicopter—as the crowd struggles to get home.

As I thought about it, I realized that, as a whole, THIS is the essence of American politics. There are the givers and there are the takers. The “people” rant and rave and cheer their heroes (party) and belittle the opposition. They root for THEIR team. They fight with and scream and yell at each other, while the leaders chat with each other, socialize, cut deals, and cut up the pie. The people foot the bill; the politicos share the spoils. Rome had “Bread and Circuses” as a diversion to the political system; America has “Beer and Football”.

This entry was posted on Monday, November 23rd, 2009 at 7:25 pm and is filed under Authors, Politics, Tony Demaio. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.