I’d better say something right off the bat, lest anyone misunderstand the point of that headline. I love the Green Bay Packers. They are a first-class organization in every way… the consummate good guys… the team I wish every other NFL team would emulate. And I don’t just admire the team as a whole— but so many of their finest players are outstanding human beings as well, which makes it even more thrilling to have seen them earn this kind of triumph. They are an amazing team and I was thrilled that they won.
My headline about unsportsmanlike conduct refers not to the Packers— but to the Super Bowl itself and specifically the way in which the aftermath of pro football’s biggest game is handled. By the way, I blogged about this on Feb. 2, 2009 when the Steelers beat the Cardinals in a thrillingly close contest. As happy as I was about the Steelers’ win (they’ve been one of my favorite teams for a long time) I was truly appalled that in the whole trophy presentation after the game, neither the owner, GM, coach or quarterback had a single word of praise for the Cardinals or their valiant QB Kurt Warner. For me, that lack of graciousness was a major blot on what otherwise should have been a really happy moment for me and all Steeler fans.
Fast forward to yesterday, and the Packers’ hard-fought win over those same Steelers. As they were preparing for the trophy presentation, I made the confident prediction that the Packers would prove to be much more gracious in victory than the Steelers had been. I would have bet a lot of money on it. And what happened? You guessed it; in that entire trophy presentation not a single word of praise for the Steelers was said by any of the Packers.
Which made me realize that when I railed against the graceless Steelers two years ago, I should have railed against whoever plans the Super Bowl and that trophy presentation. . . because the way they do it, even a team of Albert Schweitzer clones would probably not utter a single gracious word about their opponents. It starts with Terry Bradshaw, the host of the ceremony for the last several years. . . who doesn’t seem to know how to ask a question that would evoke a gracious word about the losing team. And part of the reason why it never dawns on him to even mention the losing team in his questions – and never occurs to any of the winners either – is because the losing team is nowhere to be seen. At some point, it seems to have become perfectly acceptable for the vanquished team to slink off the field (and they seem to do so as if they have a train to catch) rather than stick around both to honor the victors and to be themselves honored for making it to the Big Game. Maybe I’m just too accustomed to how they do it in professional tennis, where it would be utterly unthinkable for the winner of Wimbledon to hoist the cup above his head without the runner-up standing off to the side, applauding (and usually smiling.)
I am even more convinced of the need to revise the trophy presentation after watching some of the post-game press conference on ESPN, where players and coaches from both teams could not have been more appreciative of their opponents’ efforts. (I especially loved what Aaron Rogers, Clay Matthews, and A.J. Hawk had to say – as well as the Steeler head coach.) I guess my point is that those gracious words need to be heard by the thousands of fans in the stands and the millions of people watching at home. And it’s important in that moment to fully acknowledge the greatness of both teams, rather than so garishly painting one team as champions and the other as Losers.
Which reminds me. . . at the risk of sounding like a big crab. . . I hate how they seem to let several hundred people on to the field almost before the clock has expired, and in that pandemonium it becomes all but impossible for the two teams to exchange congratulations. I’d love to know if the coaches or Aaron Rogers and Ben Roethlisberger had a chance to exchange the traditional post-game handshake and congratulations. (If they did, the television cameras didn’t show it.) I love watching that well-mannered ritual after the typical game- and even after the savagely fought NFC championship game, it was a gratifying sight to see Packers and Bears exchanging their good wishes with each other. (Just call me a big softy, but I love it when the sometimes violent game of pro football gives way to this kind of good sportsmanship.) And I hate how the Super Bowl – the most important of all football games- seems to make such moments all but impossible to happen or to be seen and appreciated.
And here’s my last bit of bellyaching . . . and it’s not exactly on the topic of sportsmanship, but I need to vent. If the national anthem is important enough to be sung before this game is played, then it’s important enough to be sung well by someone who knows the words and – better yet – knows the melody. . . and as a bonus, it would be nice if it were sung by someone whose voice doesn’t sound like she just gargled with Clorox.
But I digress. Mostly I want to say that with so many millions of people watching, it sure would be nice if a little more attention were paid to the matter of good sportsmanship. It’s not that the players need to become good sports…. clearly, most of them are ….. but they need to be allowed to act on their gracious impulses while on such a gigantic stage, especially in the aftermath of such a hard-fought, spectacular game. And maybe the first step would be to ratchet back the glitz of the proceedings, so the heart of the game has a chance to shine through.