The Liturgies of Sports Fandom

The Scott Van Pelt Show and What the NFL Lockout Reveals

I was listening to ESPN radio in my office the other day. I enjoy sports radio now and then, depending on what I’m working on. The Scott Van Pelt Show happened to be on, and Van Pelt was commenting on the NFL’s labor negotiations that had been in the public eye for months. Without trying to unpack details I don’t fully understand, the point was clear: there was a real possibility the 2011–2012 NFL season could be canceled because the players’ union and the team owners could not reach a collective bargaining agreement.

During the conversation, Van Pelt made a remark that stuck with me. He joked that husbands had better pray the NFL season happens in the fall—or else they’ll lose their one excuse for doing nothing with their wives on Sundays during football season.

Now, I don’t think Van Pelt was encouraging men to neglect their wives indefinitely. But it’s a sobering thought that so many men rely on sports not merely for entertainment, but for emotional stability—or even as a socially acceptable way to avoid responsibility. Sports have become a genuine addiction for husbands across America, and yet few people talk about it honestly.

Through my research, I found that men addicted to sports often become strangers in their own homes. This essay will explore where sports obsession began historically, how modern culture intensifies it, why men are ensnared by it, what consequences follow, and finally how Scripture speaks to the problem.

Where Did It All Start?

To understand why men are so captivated by sports, we should begin with the history of sports and the way earlier cultures viewed spectacle. This helps show that addiction to sports is not “new under the sun.” The human impulse to pour passion into games and teams runs from antiquity to today.

As H. A. Harris notes, the word sport can refer broadly to leisure—diversions that amuse us in our free time, the “antithesis of work.” The couch-potato era did not create sports obsession; it simply delivered it more conveniently. The influence of sports as a major cultural force can be traced to the Greeks: “Accordingly it is with the Greeks that a history of sport proper must commence.”

In fact, stadium life in Greek city-states resembles what we see in modern American towns. Harris suggests that if a city produced an Olympic victor, it almost certainly had its own sports ground and athletic meetings. A stadium became a normal feature of a city in the same way a football ground becomes a feature of a modern town. These meetings were not only contests; they were massive spectator events, commanding an enthusiastic following—much like football today.

With the rise of Rome, spectator obsession did not fade. It took on new form in chariot racing. The races became a shared cultural passion across social classes, and the patronage of emperors helped cement their prominence. Harris notes that many emperors attended regularly—Nero, in particular, rarely missed a meeting if he was near the city. With prominence came infrastructure: stables, teams, and even recognizable “factions” distinguished by colors, creating rivalries that resemble modern sports loyalties.

The poet Ovid captures the intensity of the experience with language that sounds surprisingly contemporary—shouting strategy, pleading with a driver, demanding a restart, and even blending romance with the drama of victory. It’s not hard to imagine similar emotions at a college football stadium or during a playoff game.

Not everyone admired this cultural obsession. Pliny, for example, expressed astonishment that so many grown men were seized by what he called a childish passion for the races—less because of athletic skill and more because of loyalty to a color or faction. His critique feels eerily modern: fans often seem more devoted to the symbol and identity of their team than to the game itself.

Ammianus Marcellinus offered a similar critique in the fourth century, describing a population with too much time on its hands, treating the Circus Maximus as “temple,” “home,” and the fulfillment of their hopes. He describes people quarreling fiercely about races and rushing for seats before dawn with an urgency that borders on hysteria.

The point is not that sports are inherently evil. The point is that human beings have long been capable of turning spectacle into worship—of attaching ultimate meaning to something that was meant to be recreation.

How Has This Come About for the Modern Man?

Modern life has intensified the temptation through constant access. Sports no longer require a trip to the arena. They follow men everywhere: cable networks, talk radio, fantasy leagues, live updates, streaming services, and smartphones ensure that a sports obsession can be fed at all hours.

What once had to be pursued occasionally can now be consumed continually. And when something becomes ever-present, it becomes easier for it to become ultimate.

What About Sports Creates Addiction?

It is sobering how easily a meaningless game—something that is neither life-and-death nor eternally significant—can become central in the lives of many men.

Sports can function like a substitute religion. They captivate the heart. They can eclipse God, family, and real life goals. For many men, sports become the primary channel for emotional expression, devotion, and even communal identity—especially when they feel distant or underdeveloped in those areas within their actual relationships.

Joseph Price, professor of theology at Whittier College, argues in “Fervent Faith: Sports as Religion in America” that sports often carry a kind of religious fervor in American life—especially for fans who follow games through media and reports. Sports franchises themselves have acknowledged this dynamic. After the 1999 World Series, Yankees owner George Steinbrenner reportedly commented that many people depend on the team for their daily emotional well-being, and that the team’s job is to make them happy.

Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore, professor of pastoral theology and counseling at Vanderbilt, similarly describes American football as functioning like a rite of passage. She notes that fans are not merely passive spectators; outcomes have real emotional repercussions. Men often adopt ritual behaviors—fasting, wearing “the right” clothing, calling the same friend at the same time, sitting in the same spot—as if their actions can shape the outcome. When a game begins to carry that kind of emotional and symbolic weight, it becomes easier for it to function like an idol.

These patterns can even create “split personalities.” Wives and girlfriends notice the contrast: the man who rarely expresses emotion suddenly becomes animated, loud, and deeply invested when sports are involved.

Kevin Quirk documents this phenomenon in personal accounts. One wife from Carrollton, Texas writes that her husband yells through every play—at the television, the coach, and the players—yet outside of sports he never raises his voice. Another account describes a Steelers fan kneeling in prayer during a crucial moment, despite not being religious, and then crying when the team won—tears the family had never seen from him over anything else.

Quirk’s description of sports obsession is sharp: the sports addict receives his greatest joys and most painful sorrows through sports and struggles to feel as deeply about anything else. Wives often feel the sting of comparison: why can’t he bring the same commitment to loving his wife that he brings to loving his team?

Consequences of Sports Addiction

Every addiction has consequences. Unlike substance abuse, sports addiction often doesn’t carry immediate physical harm—and our culture openly celebrates it. Yet the relational and spiritual consequences can be devastating.

First, sports obsession damages marriages. Many husbands learn quickly that their wives do not care about sports in the same way they do. A wife may suggest, “It’s a nice Saturday afternoon—let’s go to the park,” and the husband’s response is: “There’s a big game on.” Translation: I’ve got something more important to do.

When children are added to the picture, the imbalance becomes even clearer. The husband retreats to the “sports-watching zone,” while the wife manages chores, laundry, meals, and the needs of the kids. Over time, this can create resentment and emotional distance. Sports becomes an escape from duty, while the family experiences it as abandonment.

Michael Novak adds another angle: American culture lacks shared institutions that naturally bridge men and women. He argues that sports often become a universal “art form” for American men. But that can deepen a tragic gap: if the primary language a husband speaks is sports and the primary language his wife speaks is relational connection, couples can begin to feel like strangers living in the same house.

Men need to learn to turn off the constant stream of sports and engage their wives—not only with information, but with attention, conversation, and shared life. A marriage cannot be nourished by scores and statistics.

The Bible on Sports Addiction

Scripture speaks directly to patterns where men neglect their families for lesser loves. Paul writes:

“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her…” (Eph. 5:25–30, NIV)

The contrast is convicting. A husband who spends entire weekends absorbed in sports while remaining emotionally absent from his family is not reflecting Christlike love. That kind of neglect is not merely unloving to his wife; it is spiritually self-destructive. Paul even frames failure to care for one’s wife as a kind of hatred toward one’s own body—because marriage makes two into one life.

To be clear: watching sports is not inherently sinful. Enjoyment can be a gift. But the heart is always vulnerable to idolatry—especially when sports becomes an excuse for selfishness, emotional withdrawal, and avoidance of responsibility. Husbands must return to their vows and cultivate intimacy with their wives in ways that honor Christ.

Children are also affected. Fathers are commanded not to exasperate their children, but to raise them “in the training and instruction of the Lord” (Eph. 6:4). Yet sports obsession can reshape the home’s discipleship—fathers invest their most energetic passion into teams and games, and children learn that sports is the easiest way to bond with dad. When the big game begins, children become distractions, and fatherly attention shuts down.

This creates a generational cycle: boys learn early that sports may be the only “safe” emotional bridge to their fathers. But Scripture calls fathers to more than team loyalty. God created men for a greater purpose than constant consumption of entertainment.

Conclusion

Sports obsession did not begin with ESPN. The Greeks and Romans established patterns of spectacle, devotion, rivalry, and identity that remain alive today. Sports can create a sense of connection to something larger than oneself—but it comes at a cost when it becomes ultimate.

Families are harmed when husbands and fathers are perpetually tethered to sports at every waking moment. Studying this topic has forced me to examine my own heart. I enjoy sports, and I know how easy it would be to waste days immersed in football, basketball, baseball, soccer, racing, and more. At times, sports has functioned like an idol—especially in my devotion to Tennessee football.

I am grateful for the opportunity to wrestle with this. I want my life to reflect a better order of loves: Christ first, then faithful presence with my wife and my children, and then leisure in its proper place. My prayer is that other men would also experience freedom from the chains of sports addiction—and rediscover joy in the responsibilities and relationships God has entrusted to them.