So, there was a big football game here in Ann Arbor a few days ago. It was an extremely satisfying progression of angst, drama, and joy, and all around town people spoke of the team as “us.”  We won; our victory. Most of us didn’t even buy tickets to get into the stadium, but we won. Genuine, overwhelming exuberance in our town; dejection, misery, and some vitriol in the other team’s town.

It’s hardly exclusive to this particular game, though the strength of reaction varies according to expectations, history, and number of games still to be played. Why do we, who don’t take the field, care so much? The progress of the game matters greatly to the kids who put so much effort into playing it. It matters very much to kids hoping for an NFL career, who need to demonstrate their talents and understanding of the game to potential employers. It matters very much to coaches, whose jobs depend on their performance. It could matter to the entire university. But as a concrete, actual thing, it makes no difference to the life of a fan at all.

But our emotional center is right there. It must be answering to something deep and basic, which given human history I’d say is our need to have a group identity, to draw differences, to take sides. We are “us,” they are “them.” It’s the basis for sports, but it’s also the basis for racism; it’s the basis for war.

But racism and war destroy people. Sports give you all the emotional punch without the death and destruction. So here’s my proposal. Let’s invest all our need for group identity conflict in sports. Throw things at the television if you need to; cheer, shout, rage, overturn the popcorn bowl with abandon. Then it’s over and everyone can look forward to the next game.