Super Bowl Sunday; Not So Super for Her

You know how those in D.C., who used to make laws, sometimes snuck things into bills that they want funded—things that have nothing to do with the bill in play? Well, this is sort of that. While we are fixing what’s wrong in America, I was hoping no one would mind if I stuck a little domestic violence in the mix. And maybe, if you stretch your imagination just a little, you can even see the correlation between men who hit women and the men in power right now.

Domestic violence incidents rise by about 10% on days when NFL games are played, usually occurring in family homes and most of the time affecting women. This shows that the outcomes of football games can have a real impact on people's lives off the field.

Last Sunday was Super Bowl Sunday. For some, it marks the highlight of the year in sports. More people will sit in their homes and watch the game than almost any other show this year. And last week, they did. And talk exploded about the halftime show, and Taylor getting booed, and DT sitting front and center like he was in Nuremberg for the Olympics, circa 1936.

But it wasn’t what you did see—it’s what you didn’t see that I tend to ponder on Super Bowl Sunday.

In some homes, beatings by the man of the house were worse than usual. Domestic violence shelters and hotlines got busier, and more women showed up having had "stupid accidents" like running into a doorknob—making it one of the busier days of the year for emergency rooms. Funny how the teams playing in the game see an even stronger surge in their hometowns. I don’t have the data on the team’s towns where they lost, but it’s not a reach to say, WTF?

When I was thirteen, I remember my father taking a chair in the living room, lifting it above his 6'3" head, and bashing it against the ceiling. I'm pretty sure it was because the wastebasket was overflowing in my bedroom. I know how scary that feels. And, while it never came down on my head, I assure you, it did some of the same damage.

When I was seventeen, I remember being president of the Pep Club (or was it vice president?) and spending a substantial amount of my time thinking of ways to pep up the football team to "Kill Cranbrook" or "Beat Farmingdale." I also remember playing on the powder puff team as a defensive nose "man," who smelled the fear on the girl across from me before the ball was snapped, anticipating my forthcoming shove to gain access to the yellow flag on the ball-carrying girl's waistband. It wasn't long after that I went to the University of Nebraska, where I can still feel the reverence toward the football team—the homework done for them, the sheer joy of the "bigness" of them walking next to me to class, the power just beneath their surface as they bumbled their way through academics.

When I was a vice president of the United Way of Tri-State, I remember the thousands of times each year when I watched pro football players gently talk about sick children or the elderly and the importance of making them comfortable in their old age. Then, as the founder of The Women's Resource Center of New York, I spent more than a few hours listening to tales of domestic violence and seeing information on the correlation between domestic violence and football. I remember my feelings watching the movie Rudy, tears of hope that he would make the team—especially during the part when he kept hitting his teammates harder and harder, showing his loyalty, toughness, and commitment to the team effort.

I sat listening to a co-worker describe the quiet blanket her family lived under the day after her brother lost a football game. She said they tiptoed around, making sure to stay out of his way because he was very upset.

I read a study presented last fall…

Things need to change in all of us. Everything is changing, and I can tell you that I am less comfortable looking away from anything now. I see the damage done when we stick our heads in the sand.

The parents of high school football players need to tell their sons that if they can't lose a game without throwing their helmets against the dryer when they walk in the door, then they can't play. They shouldn’t play anyway—have you not read about the concussion injuries? Seriously?

High school girls need to behave the same way toward their boyfriends after the game, win or lose. The president of the pep club should focus on raising participation by girls in sports, not idolizing and nurturing the boys to kill another school's players.

The NFL needs to take some of those football players and show them "manning" hotlines for battered women and children while telling their male fans that it isn't okay to beat up your wife or kids.

Most importantly, I need to go watch Rudy again and hope that this time, I honestly hope he doesn't make the team, play in one big game, and instead becomes a social worker helping other human beings who didn't get their dreams.

Domestic violence is something that is taught, and its correlation with football doesn’t need to be questioned for actual numbers, but rather, addressed openly—without the "defense team" coming in to bail out the reality.

Back to my regularly scheduled program on Monday.