WHY I LOVE FOOTBALL
What America’s game teaches us about discipline, family, faith, and sacrifice
Once a Red Raider, always a Red Raider. Wreck ’em!
Football season is back, and I am ecstatic! There is something about opening weekend that feels distinctly American. Stadiums are full again, bands are playing, families are wearing their colors, and Saturday rituals begin again. I love the traditions, the rivalries, the tailgates, the pageantry and, of course, the competition. But there is something deeper about this sport. On that sea of green grass, we see so many of life’s lessons played out right in front of us.
Football requires strength, discipline, courage, and respect. It requires a player to keep going when he is tired, to get back up after he has been knocked down, and to continue playing even when he hurts. It teaches young men that they can do hard things and that there are times when what the team needs matters more than what they want. Those are lessons that extend far beyond a football field. Those are lessons that teach us how to navigate life.
Eleven Men, One Play
One of the things I find fascinating about football is how dependent every player is on everyone else. Eleven men take the field, and each one has an assignment to do. Ten may carry out their jobs perfectly, but if one misses his block or runs the wrong route, the entire play can fall apart. Everyone has a task, and everyone else is counting on his teammates to perform. The lessons learned on the gridiron show up every day in our families, our businesses, and our lives.
The scoreboard eventually tells us who won the game, but the score is the result of hundreds of hours of smaller actions that came before the first snap ever occurred. A team wins by doing the work in practice and then executing one play at a time. If enough people do the right things consistently, the scoreboard will reflect it. That is true in football, in business and in our homes.
You Cannot Take Five Days Off and Expect to Be Great on Saturday
Football does not allow you to pretend you prepared when you did not. You cannot practice poorly all week and expect to play with excellence on Saturday. You cannot take five out of seven days off and expect to be world-class on game day.
This is true in life. When people see the CEO of a successful company, the president of an organization or the Olympic athlete standing on the podium, they see the end result. They do not see the years of sacrifice it took to get there. Too often our society rewards excuses, but excuses never put a man on the moon, cured a disease, or won a championship. Victories are built on the mundane habits repeated day after day and the sacrifices made when no one is watching.
Players practice the same movements and plays over and over. They watch film, lift weights, condition and study their opponents. The same discipline matters in everyday life. You cannot ignore your marriage all week and expect it to be strong when trouble comes. You cannot teach your children something once and assume they have mastered what you taught them. You cannot give 50% effort at work and expect to be excellent at what you do.
Put On the Uniform
I have always loved what the uniform represents. When a player pulls that jersey over his head, he is representing more than himself. He is wearing the colors of his school, his teammates, the players who came before him and the people in the stands who love that team. There is history in those colors, but there is also responsibility. We see this on the field, but we also see this in our country. Every soldier who puts on the uniform knows they have been called to something greater than themselves.
We live in a world that spends a great deal of time telling us to focus inward. Football teaches players to focus outward. A player has to be willing to say, “I belong to this team. These people are counting on me, and sometimes what is best for the team will not be what is best for me.”
Football requires confidence, but it also has a way of punishing arrogance. The most talented quarterback in the country still needs someone to protect him. The best running back still needs someone to make the block, and the best receiver still needs someone to throw him the ball. Sometimes your job is to score the touchdown, and sometimes your job is to make the block that allows somebody else to score. A good team understands this.
Home Field and Hostile Territory
Home field advantage is real. When playing in your own stadium, thousands of people are cheering for you. The noise can make you feel emboldened. But the next week you may walk into another stadium where tens of thousands of people are booing and hoping you fail. Either way, you still have to play.
Think about what the game asks a young man to do. Hundreds of pounds of muscle may be charging toward him while thousands of hostile fans are screaming, and he still has to stay calm enough to remember the play, watch what is happening in front of him and do his job. He cannot panic simply because the situation around him is chaotic.
Life gives us both kinds of crowds. There will be times when people cheer for what we are doing and times when people rise up against us. But a business with a healthy culture or a family that is united does not change jerseys when the crowd turns against one of its own. Just the opposite. They stand and fight together. United. You see it in football with the fans in the stands and the band playing the fight song. The crowd is telling those players, “You’ve got this!” That is what families do, and football teaches us what it means to be part of the family.
What I Saw at Texas Tech
As a Texas Tech Red Raider, I was especially excited to watch the national documentary that followed the Texas Tech football program from January through the beginning of this season. With so many new recruits and transfers coming into the program, the coaches had a challenge that went well beyond teaching football. They had to take young men from different schools, different homes and different parts of the country and turn them into a team. Into a family.
A roster full of talented players does not necessarily make a united team. This only comes with time and trust. These players have to know that the man beside them is going to do his job when the pressure comes. They have to know one another well enough to know they can count on their teammates. I enjoyed watching the Tech coaches create opportunities for the players to spend time together away from football, which allowed them to build and strengthen their connections.
One comment from a coach particularly caught my attention. He talked about inviting players into his home to “break bread” together. Anyone who has followed my writing knows how strongly I believe in the table, so naturally I loved hearing this. There is something that happens when people sit down and share a meal. You talk a little longer. You share stories you might not otherwise hear. You learn about someone's family. You laugh together. The person across from you stops being simply the new transfer or the guy competing for playing time. You begin to develop a bond with him.
We have been breaking bread together for thousands of years, and I do not believe we fully understand the connections that are formed when we do. I have seen it in families, churches, friendships, and business, and here it was being played out in college football. A coach understood that if he wanted these young men to trust one another on Saturday, they first needed to gather around his table.
I also loved seeing what happens at the end of practice. The Texas Tech players and coaches pray together. After hours of hitting, running, competing, correcting, and being pushed, they gather and pray. I cannot think of a better way to end a practice. They have spent the day trying to become better football players, but they finish it by remembering that football is not the most important thing in their lives.
Why This Mom Loves Football
My love of football is also deeply personal because I watched what the game did for my son. Football required things from him that I could not have taught him in quite the same way at home. I could tell him about discipline and model discipline, but football required him to get up and practice it. I could talk to him about perseverance, but football gave him days when he wanted to stop and had to keep going. I could teach him the importance of being a good teammate, but football gave him other young men who were actually depending on him.
I watched him experience victories and defeats, injuries and recoveries, early mornings and long practices. I watched him learn that sometimes you play through pain and sometimes you have to accept that you cannot play. I watched him learn to put the team ahead of himself.
As his mother, I did not enjoy witnessing many of those lessons he had to learn. There were certainly times when I would have gladly taken away the disappointment or the pain. Looking back, however, I can see that some of the hard moments were also some of the most important. God used football in my son's life to teach him loyalty, sacrifice, discipline, humility, and perseverance. The game gave him confidence to go after his dreams.
Most importantly to me, I watched his faith grow through those experiences. I watched God use victories, disappointments, injuries, coaches, and teammates to continue developing his character. Football did not simply help my son become a better player. I believe it helped him become a better man and a stronger man of faith, and that is the greatest reason I will always love the game.
The American DNA
Maybe that is why football has such a hold on America. At its core, the game demands many of the same qualities we have long admired in this country: courage, endurance, loyalty, sacrifice, discipline, resilience, tradition, faith, and a no-excuses mentality.
There is no room on the football field for excuses. You control what you can control, which is yourself. A blame-others mentality gets exposed quickly when there is film of the play and everyone can see who missed the assignment. You work hard when no one is watching because eventually you will be asked to perform when everyone is watching. You prepare, do your job, protect the person beside you, and get back up when you are knocked down.
Wearing the uniform also means accepting responsibility. Respect the uniform you have been given and the people who wore it before you. Be gracious when you win and make no excuses when you lose. Just get back to work. Know the playbook, know what is expected of you and never forget that the person beside you is counting on you. In business, protect the culture. In a family, protect the name. The rules may be different off the field, but the responsibilities are much the same.
We need these lessons well beyond football. We need them when we lead a business, raise children, build a marriage, serve our communities, and stand for what we believe in our country. A business needs people who will do their jobs well whether the boss is watching or not. Our children need to learn that they cannot practice something once and expect to be great at it.
So, yes, I love opening weekend. I love my Red Raiders. I love the stadium, the band, the uniforms, the traditions and the competition, and I certainly love winning. But I love football most because I have watched what it can teach young men about preparation, discipline, loyalty, sacrifice, family, and faith.
I saw those lessons again watching Texas Tech prepare for this season, and I watched them years ago in my own son. Every fall, when the teams take the field again, I am reminded that football is about much more than four quarters and a final score. The men on that field are learning to do life and do it well.
And that is why I love football. Wreck ‘em!!
Together with you,
Lisa Lou
