The Theology of Sports in Both Virtue and Vice

On a crisp Saturday morning in Chestnut Hill, Mother Nature chose to have mercy on

the town’s residents and the sun happily beamed down to give an image that reflected the feeling inside of many Boston College students that day: optimism, cheerfulness, and peace. In a matter of hours, however, these feelings were stripped from those sober enough to acknowledge the nationwide embarrassment witnessed on the field as the Boston College Eagles lost in overtime to Northern Illinois, a school in the midwestern boondocks to open the season. I might have been one of the most extreme casualties among fans, as the loss built an anger so strong that I could not even put into words how to express it. Instead of screaming and cursing like I did in my youth, my face had a blank expression and I could not bring myself to talk to anyone for the remaining nine hours of an otherwise perfect day. Even worse, the exact same cycle repeated after a narrow win against Holy Cross, an FCS school whose student body invaded our stadium to the point of running onto the field during the rain delay. As I seethed in my room, I contemplated what had caused me to become this way. How is it that a child’s game has such control over my entire state of being? As I reflected more, I fear that I am far from alone in this.

We, as humans, have an undeniable inclination to worship, and when the feeling does not manifest in religion itself, it seeps into other aspects of our lives. Musicians and actors have avid defenders on Twitter and get praised for their talent and looks. Movies involving Machiavellian men in suits form the identity of unsuspecting business students worldwide. Sports achieve this same end, but I would argue that it is the strongest, due to the deeper personal connection sports can offer. For example, my dad attended the University of Florida and my entire mom’s side was Ohio State alumni. These teams represented the home of my family. The players, through attending these schools, have at least one thing in common with my athletically subpar loved ones. Sports, therefore, is the competition that wagers precious parts of ourselves and commences vicariously through the much burlier champions that we see on our screens. The worship of sports does not necessarily mean I have golden idols of Cutter Gauthier and Quinten Post in my room (mainly because the BC bookstore does not sell any), rather these teams represent the pride I have in my family, my upbringing, my education, and my home. BC losses are significant because they make fans feel as if these invaluable aspects of our lives are diminished. Sure, you might have attended a premier Catholic university, landed a great job, and maybe even made some lifelong relationships there, but when you say the words, “Boston College,” the average person will reply, “Oh didn’t they lose to that no-name MAC school last week?” 

Beyond worship, we ourselves tend to place our worth in the finite rather than the infinite, and sports is no different. Rigorous travel teams, AAU culture, and the opportunity to get recruited condone the act of placing our whole selves in athletics at a young age. We love sports because there comes a sense of definitivity to it. One team wins and the other loses, so worth can be easily measured without the nuances of other methods of personal evaluation. While the yearning for a definitive truth is natural and is allocated towards The all-knowing God, society’s deeply ingrained acceptance of sports as a legitimate measurement of self shortcuts the process of knowing our actual worth in favor of letting manmade competition make the determination instead. While only a tiny percentage of athletes achieve a Division 1 scholarship, most remain fans, which could transfer the pressures of self-worth faced as athletes and apply them to our fanhood.

Like many distortable parts of the world, they can be redeemed when oriented towards God. Sports can create many virtues in us: obedience, diligence, fortitude, and patience. They can help foster bonds between people and promote community and service. The dichotomy can be clearly seen at our own tailgates, where many have fellowship between friends and families while others stumble around the parking lot aimlessly after consuming a Borg and two mimosas. Sports can also allow for life lessons to play out in real-time such as the benefits of preparation, the power of perseverance (better known as “will over skill”), and the self forgetfulness that comes with playing for a team. Unfortunately, these virtues are clouded by temptations of vainglory, envy, wrath, and, of course, the grave sin of placing a man-made organization as the center of our lives and selves instead of God. While the fact that one loves sports can be virtuous since it can reveal love for some of life’s most meaningful aspects, it mostly raises concerns about how one allocates these feelings. We let games determine the value of our relationships.

Although athletic success generates local economic growth, a win from a roster of players who were raised far from the city on their jersey does not inherently glorify the place you have nostalgia for. Instead, let the beauties of life given to us by God the Father give a permanent value to what we hold dear instead of faceless social media burners, sports journalists paid to exaggerate the stakes of athletics for the sake of profit, and your one annoying friend who still won’t stop talking about that one loss your team had. Sports are a powerful opportunity to allow us to regularly acknowledge the wonderful yet overlooked blessings in our lives. I implore any fellow over-invested sports fan to realize that game results cannot take away the reality of the Lord’s love for us such that  He willed us into existence in a place meant to reflect His intelligent design, with people meant to offer a glimpse of His overflowing unconditional love, and a college meant to orient our minds towards His greater truths of reality and revelation. With that being said, if any athletic department member is reading this piece, know that I and the remainder of the student body would STRONGLY prefer winning to facing robust theological reflection in order to cope with losing.