Two-minute infractions are often the fine line between ecstasy and anguish. In football and politics.
The larger of the two will pass through Tuscaloosa, Alabama, on Saturday. Yet neither No. 2 Georgia nor No. 6 Alabama (7:30 p.m. ET, ABC) will call the plays that matter beyond the field.
(As long as the weather is favorable, of course.)
Alabama and Georgia are not strangers. They are enemies who live in the same orbit, fight in the same conference and pursue the same euphoria. They have won 11 of the last 12 SEC championships, including each of the last six. But Georgia-Alabama hasn’t always been the political tinderbox it will be this weekend.
Think about the excitement on Alabama’s campus all week. Think tailgate, already its own world, intensified without college comparison this weekend. Think of Alabama icon Nick Saban, an unapologetic supporter of the Protect College Sports Act, returning home to watch the most anticipated game of the season on a field named after him.
Consider President Donald Trump’s planned appearance just weeks before the midterm elections that will shape the second half of his second term. Think of him doing it in a state forged in part through black athletic dominance and black liberation in the voting booth — and a state that remains essential to his more than decade-old political takeover. Imagine endless beer pong tables, libations upon libations, ribs and chicken wings. Listen to the endless sea of war cries from both sides.
But nothing extinguishes the aroma of urgency. American power is once again converging on prime time television through football.
Throughout his presidential odyssey, Trump’s relationship with athletes has been full contact.
He has criticized LeBron James, Colin Kaepernick and many Olympic athletes. Sparked deep anger over the perceived erasure of Jackie Robinson’s military service. Canoodled with Saquon Barkley, Jerry Jones, Dana White, Tiger Woods, Jaxson Dart and, most recently, Marlon Humphrey and several Baltimore Ravens teammates.
He expressed a wish that the Washington Commanders return to their original team name. And he named WWE Chairman and CEO Linda McMahon his education secretary. This year alone, he attended the College Football Playoff title game, Game 3 of the NBA Finals, the World Cup Finals, a UFC card on the South Lawn — and the Texas-Tennessee football game, which featured an Air Force One flyover two weeks ago.
Saturday marks Trump’s third trip to Bryant-Denny Stadium. Power goes where the people are.
Saturday night people will be in Tuscaloosa.
Two weeks earlier and 700 miles to the northeast, the U.S. Senate voted 77-22 to pass the Protect College Sports Act.
The legislation, if approved by the House of Representatives and signed by Trump, would “establish nationwide standards” governing health coverage, revenue sharing and transfer mobility (alongside an antitrust shelter for the NCAA).
The dissent was never that the system could not use reform. The biggest problem with the bill has always been allowing all parties, including athletes, to exercise their skin in the game in this way. The same politicians who buy airtime during the biggest games every Saturday are the ones who control the future freedoms of athletes.
PCSA supporters failed to pass the bill in the House before next month’s midterms. A polarizing bill, in a polarizing time, remains in limbo until after Americans vote in November.
The irony is simple. With the PCSA, Congress is attempting to legislate every aspect of college athletes’ lives except their identity — although there are other bills also seeking to have a say.
The Protect College Sports Act is admittedly neutral on employment status, a diversion that has been going on for decades. College sports are big business. Lobbying for it is too. Saban and Colorado coach Deion Sanders have publicly advocated for the bill. Everyone has a voice – from athletic directors and coaches to politicians – except the athletes people pay to see.
Under the lights of Tuscaloosa Saturday night, young men from Georgia and Alabama — many of them black — will take the field while potential rules are being written about them, but not with them.
Georgia and Alabama are just two of the opponents that will face off on Saturday. Televised football is the last real television event where it is possible to reach millions of citizens at the same time. As a result, political campaigns have been running out-of-state ads nationally for weeks.
During a single weekend last month, Republicans aired 5,546 ads during football games, compared to 471 for Democrats, according to reports. Texas Republican Sen. Ted Cruz spent $171,000 on a single 30-second ad during the Week 2 NFL game between the Washington Commanders and Dallas Cowboys.
The message matters. Time And the audience matters more. Forget “stick to sports.” Today, politics and sports are so intertwined that the same dystopian machine that demands players figure out their place is largely the same one that guarantees commercial time during their matches.
The Americans are rebelling. President Trump has pledged to no longer fund ads promoting his policies with taxpayer dollars. However, politics still finds its place in the stadium. By the end of the night, everyone’s rushing offense will be on full display – perhaps the least important of which is the football game everyone is tuning into.
Alabama vs. Georgia – the real football of it all – matters, though.
This is playoff leverage. These are bragging rights. It’s a behemoth happily trying to sacrifice another. In fact, the last time Georgia beat ‘Bama in Alabama — 2007, for the record — life was very different. Matthew Stafford, now the reigning NFL MVP and an 18-year veteran of the league, was Georgia’s starting quarterback. Saban, now three years retired, was in his first year as Tide coach.
The longest economic recession since World War II was about to begin.
James was preparing to begin his fifth NBA season.
And Trump was a reality TV star, fresh off filming Season 6 of The apprentice in Los Angeles.
Football may not be the vehicle, but it is the most valuable art form. Sporty. An art form supported by unpaid athletic labor, black talent that for so long has had little more than a quixotic influence on how the rules are written.
So set Saturday night in Tuscaloosa as the appropriate scene. Two teams in the top six. The biggest rivalry in college football today. The President of the United States. Nearly 100,000 people were present, many of them voters. Everyone gathers to watch a sport in which Congress has established itself as a player. A game that America loves so much that it wrote a bill without the input of a key voice. A bill that may never become law.
An encounter between an irresistible force and an immovable object like this will have direct implications for the College Football Playoff. But Georgia vs. Alabama is about a much bigger reality than football. This is Congress. About who generates the revenue. And about the people who determine the value. Saturday night is the entry point into voting, power, money and politics – everything America has been at odds with since its founding.
From kick-off to close, the work and theater will be worth marveling at – the violence we reconcile in conjunction with the memories the game has always fostered. It’s a family heirloom, and since when has family been perfect?
Whichever team wins is not as important as the gladiators determining the outcome, still not having the bandwidth to determine their future. This is the real two-minute infraction. The clock is ticking. America is moving the proverbial rock downhill, inching closer to an inflection point that the whole world owns.
Georgia vs. Alabama means a lot of things to a lot of people. The only thing it doesn’t? A game where those who determine the final score have a say in which plays count long after the clock hits zero.
Gn sports
