The Civic Virtue of Sports
This college football season is probably the last one where geography still matters in the organization of the sport. Next year the Big Ten Conference—traditionally based in the Midwest and since 2014 expanded its footprint to the Atlantic Ocean and Great Plains—will include four schools from the West Coast: USC, UCLA, Washington, and Oregon. Stanford and California, along with SMU, have announced they will join the Atlantic Coast Conference, while Arizona, Arizona State, and Utah will join the Big 12. One can blame the SEC back in 2021 for starting this conference arms-race, but at least you can still drive to Texas from Louisiana and Mississippi.
The narrative of this conference realignment—and possibly the demise of the Pac-12, the “Conference of Champions” because its teams have won more NCAA national championships in team sports than any other conference in history—is the inevitable lure of money that had led schools to leave their home conferences. For example, the Big Ten’s seven-year media rights deal is worth $7 billion (about $80 to $100 million per year for each school) dwarfs the Pac-12’s estimated $23 million per school deal with Apple TV. Loyalty and tradition are often the proclaimed values that college students and alumni hold dear, but clearly money matters more.
What does one make of this accelerated commodification of collegiate athletics, and, more broadly, the complete commercialization of sports? From sport media conglomerates merging with gambling services to billionaire professional athletes to the specialization of youth sports because of the promise of college scholarships, what are the effects on citizens’ capacity for democratic self-rule?
The Victors
As Wolverine fans know, Gerald Ford played for the University of Michigan as center, linebacker, and long snapper. He helped Michigan to two undefeated seasons and national titles in 1932 and 1933. But during his senior year in 1934, Michigan won only one game. Nevertheless, Ford continued to give his best effort despite facing repeated defeats. Michigan held Minnesota, which eventually became the national champion, to a scoreless tie in the first half. After the game, which Minnesota ended up winning 34-0, assistant coach Bennie Oosterbaan said: “When I walked into the dressing room at halftime, I had tears in my eyes I was so proud of them. Ford and [Cedric] Sweet played their hearts out. They were everywhere on defense.” Ford’s teammates later voted him their most valuable player, with another assistant coach noting, “They felt Jerry was one guy who would stay and fight in a losing cause.”
Ford’s fighting spirit, even though the outcome was already known, stands in stark contrast to today’s college football players who skip playing in bowl games because fear of injury would hurt their NFL prospects; or enter the transfer portal to go to a different school because of a better chance of winning and to make money from their name, image, and likeness. Instead of grinding it out with grit and perseverance, today college football players often get going when the going gets tough.
Such values bode ill for democratic citizenship, for you cannot simply leave or opt out of your country when political life becomes arduous and demanding. As citizens we are stuck with one another; and because we are stuck with one another, there will be winners and losers. And there is something valuable to being on the losing side because you are forced to reexamine your views, values, and why you failed to persuade your fellow citizen. It enables you to gain a fresh perspective and a new start when you enter the political arena again.
Ford recognized this when he reflected on his years as a Michigan football player. It is not the national championships that he remembered most but the one-win season of 1934. Ford recalled, “During 25 years in the rough-and-tumble world of politics, I often thought of the experiences before, during, and after that [Minnesota] game in 1934. Remembering them has helped me many times to face a tough situation.” Knowing that he could endure defeat after defeat made Ford a stronger person and better politician when confronting adversity. Winning may bring confidence, but losing provides perseverance and perspective.
Another seminal moment in Ford’s college football career transpired during his senior year when Michigan played Georgia Tech (and won their only game that season). Ford’s teammate and roommate, Willis Ward, was African-American. Leading up to the game at Ann Arbor, Georgia Tech football coach W.A. Alexander stated that he would refuse to allow his team to take the field if Michigan allowed Ward to participate. Students and faculty organized demonstrations in support of Ward and his right to play or have the game cancelled.
Michigan administrators ultimately caved into Georgia Tech’s demands and agreed to sit Ward during the game. Furious, Ford threatened to quit the team in protest, although he later changed his mind at Ward’s urging and played against Georgia Tech. This incident left a lasting impression on Ford, where he would later claim that it shaped his thinking on American race relations, mentioning that Ward sitting out of the game “led me to question how educational administrators could capitulate to raw prejudice.” It informed his views as a member of the House of Representatives when he was active in formulating and voting for “every major piece of legislation aimed at ending discrimination based on race”; and as President when he signed legislation that extended provisions of the Voting Right Act of 1965 and appointed African-Americans to positions of leadership and responsibility in his administration.
The one-win season of 1934 impacted Ford in ways that were not obvious then but would manifest themselves later. To stay with his team and do his best reflects Ford’s character of perseverance; and his outrage at Georgia Tech’s prejudice against his teammate but willing to work within the system to eventually correct it demonstrates Ford’s empathy and commitment to justice. Virtue-signaling in the moment may feel good but lacks lasting effect. Working—and persevering—with your fellow citizens to right a wrong is more cumbersome, but, in the end, more rewarding because it makes a difference. The lessons that Ford learned on the football field of 1934 carried forward throughout his life and guided his political career all the way to the presidency.
Heroism and Humility
To be part of a losing team provides the opportunity for players to develop perseverance and perspective about their athletic careers and lives. It is easy to persevere through training and the struggles during the game when you are winning; it is less so when you are losing. For citizens, perseverance— whether learned at home, in school, or by participating in sports—is a crucial value for democracy to sustain itself. Instead of giving up or opting out of politics, citizens who are the losing side of an issue need to persevere in their beliefs and continue to make a public case of their positions, be it civil rights for African-Americans or democratic rights for people under totalitarian regimes. Rather than giving into indifference and self-interest, perseverance sustains a sense of hope in a future that one day the results may turn out in your favor.
Sticking with a losing team also makes you realize that success is not dependent on one person. College football is a group endeavor where each member is part of a complex and interlocking mechanism where everyone needs to work together to be successful. This understanding of the “team” part of team sports is often lost in the media’s coverage of college football with discussion of the best college football player. What is absent in these conversations is the notion that the heroism of one player depends upon all his teammates and that success is a collective—not an individual—endeavor.
The idea that the best player stands apart from his team is fueled by a belief in an individualist meritocracy: a college football player is great because of his own individual talent, drive, and skills. Often college football players enter the transfer portal because they believe that success is determined by the individual, not the collective. Instead, the player should recognize his success is dependent on his teammates, coaches, and—more often than not—luck, such as avoiding injury during an entire season. If the best player recognizes this, then a sense of humility and gratitude towards one’s team follows. As democratic citizens, we also need to be humble and grateful for what our country has provided, recognizing how our predecessors created a nation in which we live and the role that fortune plays in governing our lives. Although Americans like to believe in the “self-made man,” the reality is very different, for behind every individual success story is a team of family, neighbors, teachers, and others.
The popularly ascribed quote to the Duke of Wellington—“The battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton”—captures the truth of the formative influence that sports play on citizens. What is concerning about college football today are the values it conveys to the citizenry where money, winning at all costs, and individualism are the most important values rather than perseverance, solidarity, and humility. While it is unlikely these lost virtues of grit and collectiveness will return to college football in the near future, we can certainly try to cultivate them in our children and look at different athletic heroes for our children to emulate. One only needs to think of Michigan’s one-win season in 1934, a season that on paper appeared to be a losing one only to discover how much winning emerged from that year.
Lee Trepanier joined Assumption University as dean of the D’Amour College of Liberal Arts and Sciences in July 2024.
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