I hate when the football team loses. I hate that the program has only strung together 11 wins in my four years at Columbia. I hate watching winnable games slip through our fingers on red zone turnovers, missed extra points, and untimely infractions. But what I hate even more than these harsh realities, what really grinds my gears, and what prompted this filibuster, is when some underclassman adamantly proposes cutting the entire football program. Inexplicably, sophomore Lanbo Zhang concluded in a recent guest column that “we should question whether we need a football team at all.”
Zhang’s argument for dismantling Lions football rests on his unfounded assertion that “If we don’t have a football team capable of competing with the nation’s best, then why do we have one at all?” That’s it. Yes, you read that correctly—that’s his thesis. In other words, if our team, or any team for that matter, isn’t nationally competitive, then its purpose and existence is questionable. Well, surely Mr. Zhang must have the evidence to back up such a bold claim—right? You decide.
According to Zhang, “Successful college football programs serve at least one of two often inseparable functions. They are either NFL stepping stones or indispensable to the identity and existence of their institutions as a whole. Columbia’s football program is neither.” The first assumption is simply ignorant. Scratch that—it’s just statistically untrue. According to 2011 NCAA figures, one in 50 (255 of 15,087 or 1.7%) of college football players were drafted into the NFL last year. Following Zhang’s logic, 14,832 players are just wasting their time. Why not, then, just fire them all and assemble five football teams comprised of the 255 best players in the NCAA?
Zhang points out that Harvard graduate Ryan Fitzpatrick, the current starting quarterback on the Buffalo Bills, is an exceptional anomaly for the Ivy League, though he “has had an NFL career that can be described as mediocre at best.” It seems mediocrity was enough to earn Fitzpatrick a six-year, $59 million contract extension last month. Regardless, almost no student-athletes at Columbia, or any other college for that matter, realistically play varsity sports with the hope of going pro and banking a multimillion-dollar contract. Most play because they love the thrill of the game, the rush of competition, and the benefits of staying in shape.
As to Zhang’s second assertion, I really have no clue what he is talking about. He claims that football programs must be “indispensable to the identity and existence of their institutions as a whole.” Surely he knows that football is not just an integral component of the Ivy League, but the fundamental adhesive that binds the Ancient Eight. The 1954 Ivy Group Agreement stipulates “continuing intercollegiate football in such a way as to maintain the values of the game in the service of the main purpose of higher education.” What better way to maintain the values of the game, and by extension Columbia, than eliminating the program altogether? Moreover, Columbia’s football team was a founding father of collegiate football. Cutting it would be like taking down Alma Mater because it’s just some old sentimental relic. It’s as indispensable to our school’s identity as the football team, Butler Library, or the rustic 116th gates.
Zhang believes that the Ivy League could shed its athletics affiliation since it’s currently just “a collection of elite universities, not athletics programs.” His uncanny elitism obfuscates any practicality his argument may have at one point possessed. The Ivies remain top-rated schools in large part because they prioritize academics over athletics. That is why Zhang’s argument is essentially a call for Ivy athletic scholarships—an idea I mulled in a column last year. While implementing athletic scholarships would undoubtedly bring in higher caliber talent, it takes opportunities away from multitalented student-athletes truly deserving and capable of enduring the rigors of Columbia.
But back to Zhang’s overarching argument—that Columbia football serves no purpose—his approach is not only unsubstantiated, but myopic and simplistic. The response to a perennially slumping team is not to destroy it, but to fix it. Columbia has serious work to do with the football program, but the athletics department has already demonstrated that it’s willing to take up the task by firing Coach Wilson. There is no magical overnight fix, but the answer isn’t defeatism.
I am no stranger to controversy when it comes to criticizing sports teams, but in my heart burns a fiery passion to support my teams through thick and thin. And while Zhang may think the football team is destined for eternal failure, I see things differently. I’ve never witnessed a winning season of Lions football, but some of the most cherished memories I’ll carry with me when I leave this place for good in May will be watching those games. It is my hope that generations to come can share the same experience, albeit hopefully with a plus-.500 team. As one very clever t-shirt at Columbia’s homecoming game against Princeton a couple of years ago read: “We might not win, but at least we’re not going back to Jersey.” Amen to that.
Michael Shapiro is a List College senior majoring in history and modern Jewish studies.
sports@columbiaspectator.com

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