A college football season is essential in so many ways

The 2020 college football season is essential in so many ways.

We’re on the brink of seeing college football return, and yet the waning days of August seem so very far away. It’s time we all hold our breath and hope for the best as players return to campus.

By the time coronavirus and COVID-19 became a standard part of our daily vernacular, college football had already packed up the last kicking tee, turned the lights out in the stadiums, and left fans in that familiar empty place they find themselves in late-January.

As sport cancelations due to the pandemic piled up one after another — including the NCAA Basketball Tournament — college football fans were twitchy, but not worried.

Surely this would be over by the summer.

As the weeks passed, the lockdown and social distancing restrictions tightened and anything that required a public gathering was canceled, college football fans began to worry.

This could be bad.

The usually-steadying voices from the coaching ranks were uncharacteristically non-committal, even worrisome. The NCAA seemed to throw up their hands. The conference commissioners’ reactions ranged from full-fledged panic mode to disbelief that the season was in jeopardy at all.

In the space of a few weeks, the narrative went from “it probably won’t affect the season” to “if we even have a season.”

Holy hell.

Yet here we are, with restrictions beginning to relax and optimism beginning to shine. Conferences are announcing timetables and safety requirements. Plans for partial attendance by fans are being laid out. Teams are returning to athletic facilities for workouts.

We’re not out of the woods yet, but there’s hope.

Help us, college football, you’re our only hope.

While college football may not be deemed “essential” in the strictest sense of the word (or how it’s loosely defined by lawmakers) the 2020 season is utterly essential to a lot of people. Not just players who want to punch their NFL tickets. Not just coaches who may have been forced to take a pay cut or were even furloughed.

But to the fans.

To college football fans, the season is beyond essential. It’s a lifeline of hope.

The fans need this season to happen more than they needed haircuts or a night out with friends for a few drinks. They need this season to happen even if they can’t attend games. They need some normalcy. Some familiarity. Some distractions.

It’s more than just watching a game and cheering for your school. It’s traditions and family. It’s a way of life for five months.

Fans need to hear Comin’ to Your City and My House bellowing through their speakers on Saturday mornings. They need to plan a menu for the lineup of games. They need to sip their coffee and excitedly watch the game analysis they can’t wait to disagree with.

Fans need to debate with their neighbor about how Urban Meyer, Reggie Bush, Matt Leinart, Brady Quinn, and Rob Stone are vastly superior to Rece Davis, Kirk Herbstreit, Desmond Howard, Maria Taylor, and Lee Corso.

They need to yell at Herbstreit for being anti-SEC and to accuse David Pollack of being a traitor when he picks against his beloved Bulldogs.

They need to see the panel of College GameDay raising hands together in a slideshow of still images as Zac Brown Band’s Homegrown tugs at their heartstrings.

They need to ugly-cry because of the beautiful stories woven by Tom Rinaldi each week.

Fans need turnovers and blown calls by referees to contribute as much to heartburn and ulcers as pizza, wings, and soda. They need multi-panel screens, attempting to follow several games at once, and remote control batteries that give out at just the wrong time.

They need hot chocolate and cold beer. They need bowties, body paint, and student sections.

They need the Chick-fil-A

cows

kowz.

Fans need t-shirts, caps, scarves, gloves, and every other item of attire they can find with logos, colors, and slogans professing their allegiance for all to see. They need to have their lucky jersey at the ready, salsa stains and all.

Marching bands, whistles, cheers, chants, and tears. They need them.

Alma Maters and fight songs. They need them.

Boomer Sooner, Victory March, Glory Glory, and Hold That Tiger. They need them.

Elation, disappointment, anger, and passion. They need them.

Bragging rights and humble pie. They need them.

Mark Richt eating cheese balls, Todd Blackledge eating everything. They need them.

They need Lee Corso putting on a headpiece. They need Gus Johnson’s pipes.

They need this season to happen.

College football? It’s “non-essential”, but it’s important. Damn important. It has meaning. It has purpose. It can lift some who are wondering if we’ll ever emerge from this dark place. It could be our way back.

College football unites. It conquers. It can bring people together in ways nothing else can, even among bitter rivals.

Yeah. It’s essential.

Someone send a hologram to the college football gods and let them know – we need them now more than ever.