Sunday football meets cartoons: when I believed in Donald Duck
Every Sunday in my childhood home, you could hear the low murmur of Sunday afternoon football, specifically the announcer discussing the blue and white adorned Dallas Cowboys versus their competitor. I remember many afternoons watching the TV in confusion as my dad attempted to explain the rules of football, which I still do not understand. He was never too focused on the game, always with a crossword or book in hand, but if the Cowboys were doing particularly well, you would see him attentively watching the screen. He never wanted to seem too focused on the game because he hates when his team loses, or more specifically, he hates when Tom Brady wins. If the Cowboys started to trail behind, he would quickly turn off the TV and transition to checking the score on his phone pretending not to be invested in the end result.
The Dallas Cowboys playing the Greenbay Packers was a particularly big event in my household, considering my Dad was the only Cowboys fan in our home. I used to feel conflicted on who to root for, as I have always been a Packers fan. However, I hate to see my Dad disappointed, so I would always cheer for both teams and meet the end outcome with enthusiasm. But I must confess, five-year-old me had a favorite player. Double D as my dad called him, number 80 on the Greenbay Packers, was known to most people as the wide receiver Donald Driver. He was known to me as the cartoon character Donald Duck. He is the only reason I support the Packers over the Cowboys, because what little kid wouldn’t support Donald Duck? It took the image of Driver taking his helmet off after a Packers victory for me to realize that the duck I was rooting for that season was unfortunately just a man. But still, to this day, Donald Driver will be my all time favorite football player, not that I am familiar with that many.
But despite the many Sunday afternoons watching the sport, I hate football. I find the game violent. When I watch, I recoil after each tackle fearing that one of the players will be gravely injured. I hate the constant news of football players who are abusive towards their partners or the newest study about how concussions lead to early dementia. The game scares me, yet when the Super Bowl comes around, I always intently watch— except for this year.
Even the constant presence of Joe Burrow on my TikTok was not enough to entice me to turn on the game. I can’t say I stopped watching because of any scandal or study that convinced me to become morally opposed to football. Instead, the reason I stopped caring about the game is much simpler. The week before the Super Bowl, I expected to watch intently as always. But after a brief conversation with my dad about who he would be supporting in the upcoming Super Bowl and him replying that he has given up watching football, I realized I never cared about the game or even my favorite player “Donald Duck.” To me, it was about a shared experience, just a little girl who wanted to spend time with her dad. So even though I don’t enjoy the game of football, I have to be thankful for a sport that allowed me to spend just a little more time curled up on the couch next to my Dad.
~ Tara Goday ’24
