The Secrets of an NFL Locker Room
There’s a strange place that exists in our world. It’s an intersection of cultures, ideas and people, from all manner of socioeconomic backgrounds, hailing from every walk of life, brought together under an umbrella of violence and greed. It’s a sphere of privilege and respect as ephemeral as the surface of a soap bubble – yet, to those on the inside, it’s the solid bedrock of reality.
I speak, of course, about the NFL locker room.
Inside an NFL locker room, you will not find a sole collection of meatheads smashing their skulls into each other until blood streams from their noses. You will not find an isolated gathering of erudite scholars discussing the latest findings from NASA, and what that might mean for the global economy. You will not find just a quarrel of rednecks discussing fishing lures and shotgun merits, nor only huddled hunches of nerds debating the merits of the latest AAA video game release.
You will find every single one of these, and many more besides, because the interior of an NFL locker room is made up of individuals, none of whom are easily crammed into a single box, save one: The common trait of football aptitude.
I’ve met Episcopalian fundamentalists, Sunday Catholic practitioners, the staunchest of atheists and Muslim faithful alike. I’ve talked race relations with East Coast prep schoolers, theoretical economics with inner city Chicagoans and same-sex marriage rights with Deep South conservatives. I’ve seen grown men throw chairs at each other over perceived slights committed hours earlier, completed The New York Times‘ Sunday crossword with people who could bench-press me twice over, and never once did I consider it out of the ordinary, because the reality of the bubble I used to inhabit is that it is comprised of the same people that exist in every other job in every other place in our country, except we probably run the 40-yard dash quite a bit faster than you.
That 40-yard dash is all we usually let you see.
What the average fan never seems to understand is that out on the field, during the interviews we give, we’re the uniform, mouthing the same clichés. Those in charge don’t want you to be you. They want you to be the product – and sneaker sales cross political lines. But inside the locker room? We’re human beings; no more, no less. We talk about the same things everyone else talks about at work, because just like everyone else, we have to do something to pass the time when we’re not working.
“What do you think about Obama? We finally got a black president!”
“Hey, did you see this sweet thing on YouTube? It’s called ‘Gangnam Style.'”
“Man, these fucking taxes fucking suck. Obama fucking sucks. Fuck.”
“So there I was, two fingers deep, and in walks her friend…”
The enlightened, the inane, the important, the profane, echoes of reality and splinters of dreams. We talk about skits on Saturday Night Live, the difference between hip-hop and jive, babysitters and bassinets, strippers and clarinets. We contemplate the virtues of Vonnegut in between slapping down dominoes, and there’s nothing we’re surprised to hear because the conversations are simply masks for words unseen and unsaid.
The Secrets of an NFL Locker Room, Page 1 of 2