The NFL in October can only mean one thing, the
color pink. Yes, it’s that time of year again, when that most testosterone
infused game becomes infested with pink arm bands, pink towels, and this past
weekend even pink penalty flags, in honor of the single most hyped disease
since the Bubonic Plague, breast cancer. For an entire month football fans have
their awareness raised to dizzying heights, and money is raised in a race for the cure. A few observations.
Breast cancer is the third leading cause of death
among women in the United States, behind heart disease and lung cancer. My
mother had breast cancer and one of my best friends is suffering with it even
now. So, why do I feel oddly annoyed when I see 300 pound men running around on
a football field wearing pink cleats? Why does finding a cure for breast cancer
seem like such a commercialized crusade? More importantly, how on Earth did the
National Football League manage to get co-opted by the Susan G. Komen
Foundation?
Then, it hit me. Never take your eye off the money.
After all, the NFL isn’t about football anymore; the NFL is a marketing colossus.
This whole breast cancer thing is about expanding the brand. Football has
locked up practically every demographic of men in America, now it’s time to
lock up the women too! Brilliant.
But still, breast cancer? If heart disease and lung
cancer kill more women every year than breast cancer, why not hype those? I
guess since men are far more interested in breasts than lungs, the question
answers itself. But, who plays football? Men. And what kills 30,000 men every
year? That’s right, prostate cancer! So, how about a month long propaganda
blitz about prostate cancer? The problem would be coming up with a signature
color. What color would be appropriate for such a disease? Yellow? Black?
Perhaps rust, to symbolize leaky pipes? The possibilities are endless. If
breast cancer can become the cause célèbre of professional football, maybe
prostate cancer can get a gig with the WNBA or the LPGA?