Damn, I Miss College Football Already.

I am convinced that Hell is a place without football. If God wanted to punish me, and I'm pretty sure that I already have a handbasket somewhere with the name on it, he would put me in a sports bar with nothing but bowling and badminton available on the TVs. We all know that God is a football fan. There certainly is a lot of prayer going on when the home team is behind in the fourth quarter.

God would not have given us Tom Brady or David Beckham if he did not mean for us to watch the game. These men are far too pretty to be wasted languishing in the mud; they are meant to be on national television preferably without their shirts. I'm not prejudiced here--I am an equal-opportunity football lover, whether it be college, pro, or World Cup Soccer. (We Yanks call it soccer. Just an FYI to the ignorant out there--soccer/football is one of the most popular sports on earth. Proponents have been known to cause riots and ludicrous behavior in even the most stodgy, stiffupper-lip Englishman.) Personally, I look forward to football season with the type of stomach-churning fervor heretofore only seen by sugar-crazed toddlers on Christmas Day. Football is the best sport on earth.

First of all, for those of us living in the weather hellhole known as the Deep South, the weather during football season is excellent. We get our first taste of fall with glorious, crisp, sunny days and cool nights. The ferocious African jungle-style heat has finally diminished and we are left with weather patterns that behave in an astonishing, Camelot-like fashion. You can actually sit outside in the middle of the afternoon and enjoy the day without spontaneously combusting. This is otherwise impossible to do during the ravages of summer in the South.

Football season also signals some of the greatest celebrations of the year. Anyone who has attended the massive, drunken hysteria of the Sugar Bowl or the Florida-Georgia game in Jacksonville can attest to the Mardi-Gras style debauchery that accompanies these events. Crazed people stagger haphazardly through the streets, slavering at the idea of warm draft beer and congealed nachos. (And that's just the locals.) Some of the people that travel to these events don't even possess tickets--they are just there to enjoy the monumental, inebriated pep rally surrounding it. In what other sport do we see fans standing around in freezing weather, painted up and liquored up? We get to watch sixty minutes of enormous, muscular men beating the bejeezus out of one another in the name of sportsmanship. (This body-painting phenomenon seems to be especially popular with large, beer-bellied men in Northern climes. If you have ever seen a Packers or Patriots game, you have seen this species. They tend to be half-dressed, painted in team colors, drunk as a tinkler's dam, and yelling their fool heads off. It's fabulous.) Football can also lead to some interesting and costly bar fights, particularly among the alumni of competing schools, but that is another story altogether. I don't have enough time to relate the utter insanity of London after an Arsenal victory. Or a Gunners' loss. Whichever. Londoners employ any opportunity to get hammered on strong beer and yell at one another.

During football season we get the best holidays: Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's Eve. As if these holidays were not enough for any one person, we have Super Bowl Sunday to cap it all off at the end. The local police probably loathe Super Bowl Sunday. It means that even the meekest of social drinkers will put
away enough beer to feel an elephant. I have seen adorable, well-bred Southern belles turn into roaring, drink-befuddled hussies when their team loses a game. I have actually witnessed well-educated men engage in Mike Tysonesque fisticuffs over a penalty. Without football, what else would we have to discuss on Monday mornings with our co-workers?

The superlative thing about football is this--it gives us all one last chance. There is always another season, another down, or another half to anticipate. We can recollect our own days out on the gridiron, or merely mentally place ourselves, Walter Mitty style, in that moment of glory when a hail Mary pass, against all the
laws of physics, leads to a game-winning touchdown. College football in particular gives us all a chance to relive that one exceptional moment that defines us. A graduating senior that kicked the field goal that won the Rose Bowl can forever relive that moment as he trudges to his job in the firm of Snooze, Bland, Boring and Trite, LLC. Most of the kids playing in the NCAA will not get a shot at the pros. Even for those fortunate enough to become a vaunted member of the big leagues, college sports is their one opportunity to make a mark before money, fame, and the media corrupt them. College sports are about making a moment based solely on love of the game.

For those of you poor souls that didn't get the opportunity to attend a big football school, you honestly cannot fathom the carnival atmosphere that precedes any game. It is one of the best parties in the world because you can guarantee that you have something in common with at least half the attendees. Stand outside Death Valley in Clemson or the Swamp at UF on a Saturday night. The fervor is palpable, the excitement as sharp and clear as a beacon. Football is ritualistic. Football is tribal in the primitive sense of the word. It can bring out the best in its fans. For example, look at the support and respect the LSU players got the first day they took the field after Hurricane Katrina. I have seen grown men reduced to tears or writhing in ecstasy. We have all seen couples get engaged at a football match. Their love of the game commingles with their love for one another.

Football can also lead to fights, brutality, and vandalism. Despite this, football can embody the best of human culture. For that one day, we are concordant and united with a common hope. Football is a splendid celebration of what human culture can be at its best--an example of competition, fair play, and unity. In short, football gives all of us a chance to win, however vicariously, and that is something that is all too rare. God is indeed a football fan because he knows for those three hours we are thinking of something other than ourselves.

The Devil's Party

Upon reading the book The Rebirth of Music by Lamar Boschman, an evangelist of some note, one cannot help but be impressed by the sheer audacity of his theories. Boschman avers, in a somewhat roundabout way, that all secular music, and rock music in particular, can make one an active member of the Devil’s party.  While the reader can appreciate the unique views that Boschman puts forth in the book—a quote directly taken from the back cover—one cannot agree with the somewhat medieval opinions about music that Boschman puts forth here.  The problems one encounters with the book are myriad and this mars any validity of the book.  First, Boschman often does not quote the sources for his sometimes outlandish stories.  He also seems to be using his book as a tirade against the evils of rock music without giving an authoritative counterargument about the sanctity of creativity.   Finally, he dismisses all music as secular in nature unless it is used for its “true” purpose—that of worship. 

            In the first few chapters, Boschman avers that lucifer—always in the lower case—was built as an angel with musical instruments built into his body.  After studying the Bible, one found no mention of this anywhere.  He gives Biblical references and quotes throughout the work to prove his points, but this allusion seems vague.  He only says that “some theologians” and “some scholars” believe that lucifer was the father of music.  Thus once he fell, music fell with him.  Boschman’s main argument here is that music’s sole purpose is that of worshipping God.  While this is certainly a great opinion there is no proof, Biblical or otherwise, to back up this claim. 

            As far as his arguments about rock music being the work of the devil, one finds them subjective and emotional.  He seems to blame all human excess on rock music, stating that, “Lucifer has influenced people to sing and dance before him as he hides behind the groups and uses them to receive his worship” (Boschman 11).  In other words, the devil is behind all rock music. He fails to see that alcoholism, drug abuse, and sexual excess are problems in their own right.  These issues are certainly not the exclusive domain of rock musicians, nor are “true” Christians immune to them.  He claims that there is a direct link between rock music and immoral behavior, yet he fails to substantiate this claim with any scientific or even Scriptural proof.

 Boschman also states that music should solely be used to minister to God—again, there is nothing in Scripture to back up this claim.  If Boschman uses music in this manner as a part of his personal belief system, he is certainly more than welcome to do so.  However, he states that the purpose of music is only for spiritual gain and implies that it is a violation of God’s law to use music in any other manner. It is true that the Bible lists worship as one of the uses of music, but nowhere in Scripture does it state that this is the only use for music.  Boschman also fails to see music as a creative force and to acknowledge that this creative force has been what has driven man to greatness.  Just as God created man, so we create new works to revere his name.  Thus the very act of creation is a form of worship. “Blessed is the man who finds wisdom,
the man who gains understanding, by wisdom the Lord laid the earth’s foundations, by understanding he set the heavens in place” (Prov. 3:13, 19).

While the book was not a valid argument against the evils of rock music, one can definitely claim that it was an interesting read.  It certainly will inspire the reader to study the Scriptures more closely.  As a persuasive treatise, the book failed; however, as a learning tool describing music as both the tool and the means of worship, Boschman’s book serves the reader well.