A visitor to Alabama in the fall, if properly observant, will quickly perceive that our love for college football amounts to a religion second only to Southern Baptism. They may ask themselves why so many people who aren't even Auburn or Alabama alumni will pick a side and defend it so vehemently, indoctrinating their children to follow the old road of couch-based devotion to the team. From the time they can talk, most Alabama children can say "war eagle" or "roll tide" just as well as "mommy" or "daddy."
A Birmingham girl born and raised, even I wonder sometimes why I care so much about the Alabama football team -- a group of young men I don't know who go to a college 60 miles away I may or may not attend. I'm not even a sports fan; I'm a musically inclined sixteen-year-old who couldn't identify most NFL teams or tell you anything about any sport other than football. And it's not just me. This is a pretty common phenomenon in the heart of dixie.
Why do we care?
I realized the answer tonight, the night the Crimson Tide gave up what would have been their second undefeated season in a row (and probably the road to a second consecutive national title) to Texas A&M in a grueling battle that ended 29-24.
We care because, besides our football and maybe our barbecue, the state of Alabama doesn't have much going for it. We southerners have always been a proud people, but the mistakes of our racist ancestors have left us to bear a stigma in the eyes of the more "civilized" states up north. Pop culture generalizes us, portrays us all as white supremacist, inbred, uneducated rednecks. It's not fair, and certainly not accurate, but that's our society. For the most part, we accept this and go on with our lives, but there's always that craving to be admired, to be the best at something; for self and for homeland.
This is one thing we can do. We have great football. College fans from other regions resent it, but for us, it goes beyond a college sport. It's state pride.
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