In 1975, my senior year of high school in the Philadelphia area, I took the stage in front of 2,000 classmates for some long-forgotten student council event. Most of the audience didn’t know me personally. But they knew my name, considering I was the oldest son and namesake of the Eagles head coach at the time.

Considering my father would be fired a few weeks later, it was no surprise to me when, after my introduction by the student body president, everyone in the audience booed like only Philly fans can. Numb after three years in the cauldron of Philadelphia football fanaticism, I took it in stride.

“Thank you, Eagles fans,” I said into the mic before the principal grabbed it and scolded the assembly. The story appeared on the front page of the sports section two days later.

This was actually one of the lighter moments during my dad’s run as Eagles head coach while I was in high school. For as history shows, being head coach of the Eagles (and later the Colts under infamous owner Bob Irsay) was not a highlight on his considerable resume built over 45 years in pro football.

What was a highlight in those days 40 years ago was a core group of people, my high school buddies. Philadelphia natives, through and through, they were my teammates at every turn, protecting my fragile social blind side as I lived and died with the results on the scoreboard like all Philly fans did.

Decades later, they showed up again during Super Bowl 52, when we texted like teenagers before, during, and after the Eagles’ win. Many of us haven’t crossed paths in years, but there we were, virtually together again, nervous, hopeful, and finally victorious. We don’t always see eye to eye on politics, religion or social issues anymore. But the bond feels unbreakable. #Teamwork. 

Looking ahead as the afterglow of the Super Bowl ebbs, and pessimism about the future of football starts to leak in once more, it occurs to me that calling out symptoms of the NFL’s demise is like shooting fish in a barrel.

Officiating and replay. Player suspensions for antics on and off the field. The ticking labor time-bomb set to blow after the 2020 season. And now that the Social Justice/Anthem story has replaced player safety as the issue, critics are poised to print the NFL’s obituary.

But this season proved to me, ironically more than ever, why fans keeping coming back to American football. We love teamwork. Football delivers it like nothing else short of the military. Look deeper and it’s obvious.

Start with the Eagles’ victory. Can you name a Super Bowl champion that better epitomizes the “next man up” approach required for football’s brand of teamwork? They lost to injury a bona fide MVP candidate at quarterback, their starting all-pro left tackle, several defenders and a special team ace. And yet in the big game, the back-ups were stars. #Teamwork

On the lighter side, what was the best (and maybe only positive) rule change this past season? Team touchdown celebrations, right! What was arguably the best commercial during the Super Bowl? The Giants’ team touchdown rehearsal set to the Dirty Dancing theme song. Admit it. You loved that. #Teamwork.

Teamwork is simple to say, darn hard to achieve. But it’s indispensable as the primary tool for any mission that aims to overcome adversity. That’s the purpose of American football, to teach and exemplify teamwork. That’s why American football inspires more than any other sport.

Sure, it seems like the NFL management and the Players’ Association tore up that memo in favor of television contracts, labor victories, and denial about safety. But as for the fans, I believe our passion for football is coming of age. We expect the best of our favorite sport, as we should.

We advocate for player safety, and for character on and off the field, as we should. We display loyalty to sportsmanship beyond our teams, its players, their victories and defeats.

A few weeks ago, Minnesota fans spontaneously organized in 48 hours to donate over $200,000 to the charity of Saints punter, Thomas Morstead, after the Vikings beat the Saints on the walk-off touchdown. The fans did it to honor an opposing player’s grit and sportsmanship.

Morstead donated the money back to the Minneapolis Childrens Hospital. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, the Hospital promoted a pledge drive of its own that put $100,000 into the hands of New Orleans’ needy.

Think of Buffalo fans’ donations to Andy Dalton’s Cincinnati charity. Think of fans’ response to J.J. Watt’s campaign for Houston after the hurricane.

Teamwork is not for the cynic or the Pollyanna. It’s not easy. Still, with elbow grease spread over multiple cities, fans can seize a leadership role over football as the greatest team sport ever created, the NFL and the NFLPA be damned. We, the fans, are the spirit of American football. It’s worth saving, and this season proved it. #Teamwork.

Oldest son and namesake of a world champion Cleveland Brown and NFL Hall of Famer, Michael McCormack is the author of Born Fanatic in addition to being a lawyer, speaker and, still to this day, pro football fanatic living outside of Seattle, WA. Learn more at www.bornfanatic.com and connect with McCormack on Twitter @1bornfanatic.

In 1975, my senior year of high school in the Philadelphia area, I took the stage in front of 2,000 classmates for some long-forgotten student council event. Most of the audience didn’t know me personally. But they knew my name, considering I was the oldest son and namesake of the Eagles head coach at the time.

Considering my father would be fired a few weeks later, it was no surprise to me when, after my introduction by the student body president, everyone in the audience booed like only Philly fans can. Numb after three years in the cauldron of Philadelphia football fanaticism, I took it in stride.

“Thank you, Eagles fans,” I said into the mic before the principal grabbed it and scolded the assembly. The story appeared on the front page of the sports section two days later.

This was actually one of the lighter moments during my dad’s run as Eagles head coach while I was in high school. For as history shows, being head coach of the Eagles (and later the Colts under infamous owner Bob Irsay) was not a highlight on his considerable resume built over 45 years in pro football.

What was a highlight in those days 40 years ago was a core group of people, my high school buddies. Philadelphia natives, through and through, they were my teammates at every turn, protecting my fragile social blind side as I lived and died with the results on the scoreboard like all Philly fans did.

Decades later, they showed up again during Super Bowl 52, when we texted like teenagers before, during, and after the Eagles’ win. Many of us haven’t crossed paths in years, but there we were, virtually together again, nervous, hopeful, and finally victorious. We don’t always see eye to eye on politics, religion or social issues anymore. But the bond feels unbreakable. #Teamwork. 

Looking ahead as the afterglow of the Super Bowl ebbs, and pessimism about the future of football starts to leak in once more, it occurs to me that calling out symptoms of the NFL’s demise is like shooting fish in a barrel.

Officiating and replay. Player suspensions for antics on and off the field. The ticking labor time-bomb set to blow after the 2020 season. And now that the Social Justice/Anthem story has replaced player safety as the issue, critics are poised to print the NFL’s obituary.

But this season proved to me, ironically more than ever, why fans keeping coming back to American football. We love teamwork. Football delivers it like nothing else short of the military. Look deeper and it’s obvious.

Start with the Eagles’ victory. Can you name a Super Bowl champion that better epitomizes the “next man up” approach required for football’s brand of teamwork? They lost to injury a bona fide MVP candidate at quarterback, their starting all-pro left tackle, several defenders and a special team ace. And yet in the big game, the back-ups were stars. #Teamwork

On the lighter side, what was the best (and maybe only positive) rule change this past season? Team touchdown celebrations, right! What was arguably the best commercial during the Super Bowl? The Giants’ team touchdown rehearsal set to the Dirty Dancing theme song. Admit it. You loved that. #Teamwork.

Teamwork is simple to say, darn hard to achieve. But it’s indispensable as the primary tool for any mission that aims to overcome adversity. That’s the purpose of American football, to teach and exemplify teamwork. That’s why American football inspires more than any other sport.

Sure, it seems like the NFL management and the Players’ Association tore up that memo in favor of television contracts, labor victories, and denial about safety. But as for the fans, I believe our passion for football is coming of age. We expect the best of our favorite sport, as we should.

We advocate for player safety, and for character on and off the field, as we should. We display loyalty to sportsmanship beyond our teams, its players, their victories and defeats.

A few weeks ago, Minnesota fans spontaneously organized in 48 hours to donate over $200,000 to the charity of Saints punter, Thomas Morstead, after the Vikings beat the Saints on the walk-off touchdown. The fans did it to honor an opposing player’s grit and sportsmanship.

Morstead donated the money back to the Minneapolis Childrens Hospital. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, the Hospital promoted a pledge drive of its own that put $100,000 into the hands of New Orleans’ needy.

Think of Buffalo fans’ donations to Andy Dalton’s Cincinnati charity. Think of fans’ response to J.J. Watt’s campaign for Houston after the hurricane.

Teamwork is not for the cynic or the Pollyanna. It’s not easy. Still, with elbow grease spread over multiple cities, fans can seize a leadership role over football as the greatest team sport ever created, the NFL and the NFLPA be damned. We, the fans, are the spirit of American football. It’s worth saving, and this season proved it. #Teamwork.

Oldest son and namesake of a world champion Cleveland Brown and NFL Hall of Famer, Michael McCormack is the author of Born Fanatic in addition to being a lawyer, speaker and, still to this day, pro football fanatic living outside of Seattle, WA. Learn more at www.bornfanatic.com and connect with McCormack on Twitter @1bornfanatic.