GROUND ZER0, New York, N.Y.--Jan. 31, 2004 -- Tomorrow, nearly half the homes in America will be tuned to Super Bowl XXXVIII.    An estimated 150 million people, half the population of the United States, will be glued to the sights of 300-pound linebackers smashing into one another, Titans of the gridiron.

         But, to feminists who advocate this is the "day of dread," women will be huddling in the background, fearful of being body slammed by angry men, lubricated with beer and booze, seeking to release their pent-up violence on the "weaker" sex.

        According to the feminist theory, the children will witness the Beast of Terror at his worst.
        Is the claim that domestic violence spikes on Super Bowl Sunday, or, is it a myth?
        History has some answers.
        It started back in 1993 in Pasadena, California.  Shelia Kuehl told reporters a news conference organized by a coalition of women's groups that "forty percent more women would be battered on that day."   She based her claim, she said, on a study done in 1990 by Janet Katz, a professor in Sociology and Criminal Justice at Virginia's Old Dominion University.

        The press ran with the story.  
        NBC buckled under pressure from the advocates and ran a public service announcement in the pre-game showing a well dressed man being put in jail with the announcement:  "Domestic violence is a crime."
       The 30-second commercial, given free, would have cost more than a half-million dollars at the time.
        That is the seed of the myth, many argue.   Researchers charged the alleged study by Ms. Katz and found that emergency room admissions she had cited were not linked to football games in general.
        Other studies--the following links will guide you to them( link 1, link 2, link 3, link 4)--debunk the claim that domestic violence rises during Super Bowl Sunday.   They call the statistical fabrication an "urban myth," and it appears to not have statistical validity.
        However, Super Bowl Sunday is a day when millions of gallons of alcohol are consumed, and there is little doubt that booze and violence run along the same path.
        What is notable, however, about Super Bowl Sunday, is that half the families in America will be tuned to it.  Children, whether they want to watch the show or not, will be exposed to the battlefield where men thunder against one another in a Clash of Titans to find out who will be King of the Gridiron.
        I am not a football fan, even though most people accuse me of being a linebacker.  I stand 6-4 and weigh in at 280 (20 stones) and have that "linebacker scowl" that signals anyone in front of me to weave or be knocked down.   
       My sport is golf.   I prefer trying to place a tiny ball on a target with a narrow piece of iron or wood to smashing into another human being.  
       Be that as it may, the football game I would love to see on Super Bowl Sunday would be the Beasts of Terror vs. the Sentinels of Vigilance.

        On the field would be Fear, and all its many forms; and Intimidation plus its many sisters and brothers; and, Complacency with all its synonyms.  
       The Beasts would issue a rank odor.   They would have scales and fiery breath, and long pointed tails.   Their eyes would glow like coals from Hell and their fangs would drip with drool, ala the beast in the movie Alien.
       Of course, they would be dressed in black, not to be confused with the Raiders.  
       Opposite them would be the Sentinels of Vigilance, a combination of men and women.   They would appear weak and undernourished compared to the Beasts.   Some would be young and others old.  They would be mothers, fathers, uncles, aunts, cousins, grandmothers, grandfathers and loved ones.
       The betting pools would not give them much of a chance just by looking at their physical side.   When they set up on the line, the shadows of the Beasts would loom upon them as dark clouds gathering before the storm.    They would appear to be toothpicks butted up against the girth of a giant Douglas Fir.  
        The Beasts would hiss at them before the ball was snapped:  "Loser.  Failure.   Nobody.   Weakling."    They would peel back their prehistoric lips and expose sharp fangs, polished to needlepoint tips to rip and shred the vulnerable flesh during the pileups.    They would dig at the Astro Turf with their long claws, ripping it and telling the Sentinel across from them how they were going to eviscerate them.

        Each of the Sentinels would be forced to face Fear, Intimidation and Complacency on the line.    They would have the choice to fight it or flee from it.   Those who felt the fetid breath of the beasts beating on their necks would listen to the cheers of nearly 100,000 fans and decide whether they wanted to stand up to the Beast or fold.
         The captain of the Sentinels would issue his signals.  Courage over Fear!   Conviction above Intimidation.   Right Actions for the Children's Children's Children instead of Complacency.
         Then the ball would be snapped.

         The mountains of Fear, Intimidation and Complacency would rush angrily at the Sentinels.    They would be Towers of Fear, hurling themselves at the Sentinels.   To the people in the stands, and the millions watching on television, it would seem futile, hopeless the Sentinels would have any chance.
         But as the Courage within them grew to counter the Fear, and the Conviction boiled up over the Intimidation, and the vision of the faces of the Children's Children's Children blossomed larger than the Complacency of selfish self-preservation, the Sentinels would morph into their own form of Titans.
         The grandmothers and mothers and other women on the line would suddenly become Amazons, strong, iron-willed women who met the Beasts with a maternal force garnered from all the children past, present and future.
         The men, some young and small, some old and weak, grew into Herculean figures, broad shouldered Spartans with Swords and Shields of Vigilance to counter the Beasts' attack.    There would be a loud thunderous explosion as the two forces met at the scrimmage line, each driving all its power to uproot the other, to gain territorial victory.
        At first no one would know who was victorious.   The two forces would combine, appearing as though they had braised themselves from two into one.   There would be silence after the collision, a dull nothingness while the people watching, as though in slow motion, waited to see who was victorious.
        Children, mothers, fathers, grandparents, relatives and loved ones viewing the game around the nation and world would suck in a united breath, holding it, waiting, wondering.
        Then the Beasts would begin to fall.  They would crumble under the weight of the Sentinels' Courage, Conviction and Right Actions.    They would scream and cry out, no longer Beasts but now Gnats of Terror.   Their ferocity, a facade in the first place, would be shattered.   
        Like bullies caught with their pants down, they would try to run away, pursued by the Sentinels.    Leaping through the air, the Sentinels would tackle them one by one, reminding the viewers that Vigilance has the power to crunch Terrorism, that Right Actions in the face of seemingly oppressive odds ultimately triumphs over Complacency, and that Intimidation--however large at any given moment--can be shrunk to the size of gnat when one's Conviction to do the Right Thing for the Right Reason is fired.  

       It would all come down to standing up against Fear with Courage.  It would all start with suiting up and being willing to face the Beast, no matter what the odds seemed to be against the outcome.
       This would be my Super Bowl choice.
       And that's why I wondered about the myth of the "day of dread" where violence against women was promoted as the outcome of the largest-watched sporting event in America.   
       If it were true that domestic violence was such a large part of the Super Bowl, how could it continue to grow as the most-watched event?   Did that mean that despite all the data, women allowed their husbands to become Beasts of Terror that day, endangering them and their children?
      Did it mean that men didn't care about their wives and children, and would take the day off to become a Beast of Terror at their family's expense.
      Ultimately, after searching for facts, I realized the Super Bowl was a family event.   It wasn't a time when the Beast of Terror ran rampant.  
       It was a time when two forces meet on a field to find out who has the most Courage, Conviction and takes the most Right Actions.
       If one looks at the Super Bowl from a Vigilance rather than a Terroristic perspective, one sees the best in athletic skills being played out.    The game is monitored by umpires and referees to insure it is played clean.
       Two forces meet, not to see who is the best versus the worst, but to see who is the best of the best.
       Children and families watching the event see the best Sentinel of Football Vigilance competing with the best Sentinel of Football Vigilance.   They see two Sentinels of Vigilance trying to improve.
        The second best in the world is not a loser.  The loser is the one who doesn't compete to be better.

        A suggestion for viewers who have children.    Think about telling your children that the players on the field are Sentinels of Vigilance, trying to improve.    Tell them that to be the best one has to face many challenges, and the challenges one faces are often based on overcoming Fear with Courage, trumping Intimidation with Conviction, and taking Right Actions rather than falling Complacency and doing nothing.
        Ask your children or loved ones to pick a team and root for it, not on the basis of its just winning, but on its ability to try its best to be its best.  
        Vigilance is about our attempt to improve.  It is about our willingness to want to be our best as human beings, and that means we have to face the Beasts of Terror on the scrimmage line.   It means we need to have the faith in ourselves first to overpower the Fear and Intimidation the Beast tries to inject into us as we look up at him just before the ball is snapped.
         You can make the Super Bowl a Super Bowl of Vigilance, not a "day of dread."
         Enjoy it.

Jan 30--Broken Promises Feed The Beast Of Terror