‘Super-spreader Bowl Sunday’ delineates a corrupt American culture

I remember the first time I was called a faggot. 

I wore a pair of Toms to school in sixth grade, and for some reason it was the most polarizing day in the history of Desert Ridge Middle School. It’s a unisex shoe, but when you’re a sixth grade boy, only elephant-sized tennis shoes are socially acceptable (I was 6 feet tall with a 28-inch waist size and narrow heels at age 13 — miniscule articles of clothing actually fit me). 

My faux-confidence took a swaggering blow as the “jocks” — I call them this because they wore basketball shorts in freezing weather yet neglected to wear deodorant — uttered hideous slurs in the hallway and could not disconnect their gaze from my feet. I don’t judge what anyone does in the bedroom, but I would not be surprised if these people had foot fetishes 10 years later. 

As I grew older, I began to vehemently despise jock and football culture for the people it produced. These same people harassed me, held crooked wires up to my face and told me that I was “as straight as this” and seemed to be more obsessed with my sexuality than I was. Sure, this behavior is a by-product of our heteronormative society and insecure masculinity, but it also sheds light on the toxic pervasiveness of football culture in the United States. 

With Super Bowl Sunday coming up, I am very indifferent to who wins. In contrast, I am concerned about the aftermath; I have no doubt in my mind that households will host mass gatherings despite coronavirus safety concerns. Universities are still not open and local businesses are struggling, yet sports could not be sacrificed for the sake of a pandemic that has taken the lives of over 400,000 Americans. Ultimately, these priorities reveal a twisted logic that undermines the sanctity of human life in favor of a corrupt American staple: football. 

Besides my experiences, sports culture historically promotes misogyny and homophobia. It intertwines closely with “locker-room talk,” a term that often refers to how men talk behind closed doors. It is notorious for fostering “guy talk,” which condones sexualizing women and tossing out “faggot” like new slang — I know because I have used male locker rooms. 

Of course, not all men in sports act like this, but it’s a paradigm. According to a 2014 study by Sam Houston State University, “male-inclusive groups, such as fraternities, segments of the military, and sports teams, are 300% more likely to commit sexualized violence than their non-affiliated male peers.” In another study, conducted by FiveThirtyEight, “it was found that the rate of domestic violence arrests in the NFL relative to other violent crimes was 48%, more than double the national rate of 21%.” Sexualized violence is a trademark of sports culture, and we cannot talk about football culture in the United States without recognizing these misogynistic facets of it. 

As a matter of fact, Donald Trump, the same man who defended his “grab her by the pussy” comments as “locker-room talk,” boasted that he “brought back Big Ten football.” College football this past fall was originally canceled due to coronavirus concerns, but because Americans cannot last a year without the thrill, spirit and camaraderie of football season, we deemed it as more important than actual coronavirus relief, a collapsing economy and a country crippled by a pandemic that was controlled within months by other countries such as Australia.  

Now, with the Super Bowl steadily approaching, we nearly made it through the season, right? Well, although the NFL enacted strict coronavirus safety protocols, such as mandatory virtual or socially-distanced outdoor meetings, several teams have experienced outbreaks, particularly the Baltimore Ravens, whose outbreak was traced back to their conditioning coach who failed to report his symptoms and neglected to wear a mask. 

Additionally, I am not the only person worried about a super spreader event. Los Angeles County Health officials pinpointed mass gatherings held among people from different households as a “primary driver of coronavirus transmission.” On top of that, we nationally witnessed mass celebrations in the streets of Tuscaloosa following Alabama’s National Championship victory. Not to mention the fact that the University of Notre Dame had to enact mandatory universitywide coronavirus testing after students stormed the school’s football field and hosted weekend parties after they defeated Clemson. We have learned by now that we cannot put these irresponsibilities past the reckless people in this country.

Furthermore, the NFL faces a massive revenue setback worth billions, which is especially disconcerting for corporations that rely on the NFL for advertising (oh no) and the athletes who are being exploited for profit. However, if this does not epitomize the structural faults in our economic system, what does? As a national culture so rooted in misogyny, disrespect for others and conceit, the NFL serves as a prime example of some of the most corrosive aspects of the U.S. that we must confront. 

Frankly, I am pessimistic about what will happen on Sunday, and I have been critical about the negative aspects of football culture for my entire life. Speaking from a more optimistic point of view, perhaps there is a way to reform it. Alas, we cannot reform an institution that will simply cease to exist if the U.S. continues to prove that it cannot calibrate its priorities. 

Matthew Eck is a junior writing about hot-button social issues. His column, “The Eck’s Factor,” runs every other Wednesday.