Four Ways In Which Playing Football and Playing Music Are Similar
Including the Definition of What a True Sport Is
The subtitle pretty much gives it away, but I’ll belabor the point anyway: When (American football) receivers (whether they be wide receivers, tight ends, or running backs) are good at snaring the spheroid out of the air (catching the ball) with nary a drop, they’re said to have “soft hands.”
The same is true with musicians (I’m thinking especially of those who play stringed instruments, such as guitars — including bass guitars — as well as mandolins, banjos, etc.).
When a person first learns to play these types of instruments, they invariably very deliberately and awkwardly press down hard on the frets with their left hand (assuming the left hand is their non-dominant one, and thus is the fretting hand), making the notes sound forced and clunky and overly-calculated rather than smooth. As one continues to play, though, and becomes more comfortable and gains confidence, they come to realize the exact amount of pressure that’s just enough and “ease up,” making it seem sometimes as if they are barely pressing down on the string at all (as opposed to strangling it, as at the beginning of their experience). In other words, they develop “soft hands.”
Another thing you often hear about football players in general (not just receivers) is that once they’ve gained experience “the game has slowed down for them” or they “no longer have to think.” Of course, they still think (you can’t stop thinking even if you wanted to), but they don’t overthink or have to remind themselves, “Wait, now, in this situation what I need to do is this and then that” — their body just “automatically” starts doing what it’s been trained to do and what has become habitual. They are playing more by feel, by instinct.
As to literally not thinking at all, there is one way you can achieve that elusive but dubious goal: By running around your house three times without thinking of the word “Tiger.”
Psyche! See, it’s impossible to stop thinking (unless you’re a Congressman, but that’s another story (apologies to Mark Twain)).
The same thing is true of musicians (in general, not just those playing stringed instruments) that is true of football players: after practicing and playing long enough to be proficient, their fingers just “automatically” play the right notes in the right sequence and tempo because doing so has become ingrained. They are playing more by feel than by conscious thought. Instinct kicks in and they are able to freely improvise, without thinking, “Now I’ve got to play a root note, then move up to the seventh fret … ”
When you (I, anyway) am first learning to play a song that I find challenging, I feel like I’m “out of control” as I’m trying to keep up, to play the notes at the right time. I’m racing to keep up, and so the smoothness and confidence and panache are nonexistant. Only after practicing the song a million times (such as America’s Sister Golden Hair or Randy Newman’s theme to Monsters, Inc. or the Doobie Brothers’ Listen to the Music) can I play it freely and at least semi-confidently. The song “slows down for me” in a sense; so it seems, because I have “sped up.”
The third way that playing football (or sports in general) and music are similar can also be mentioned as a bonus: Body control and hand-eye coordination are a prerequisite to be a good athlete, and the same is true of musicians, especially of virtuosos. And as paradoxical as it may sound, much thinking is required to get to the point of not having to consciously think, so the saying “dumb jock” is a misnomer; it probably originated with and was perpetuated by those not coordinated enough to be good athletes themselves.
A related type of coordination is that required between both hands — if a musician’s right (picking/plucking/slapping) hand and left (fretting) hand [provided you’re right-handed, that is] aren’t working “in concert” then the playing won’t be smooth; if a receiver’s hands are not cooperating with each other in grabbing the ball at the same exact moment, a drop or even ham-handed flipping of the ball up in the air to allow it to be intercepted could occur. Let’s call this subtype of coordination symmetrical coordination. Such is a prerequisite for all musicians (I know of no instruments you can play with only one hand) and athletes who handle the ball. In these situations (catching a ball and playing a musical instrument), the biblical injunction found at Matthew 6:3 to not let your right hand know what your left hand is doing does not apply.
The fourth way is timing: if a musician plays the right note, but at the wrong time, it can sound bad and throw everyone else off — especially if he is the drummer or bassist. If a receiver is in the right place at the wrong time, it can lead to an interception or, at best, a failed opportunity to make a positive play, possibly even negating a potential first down or touchdown.
Some people consider golf to be a sport. I don’t think so. In a real sport, you run, jump, sweat, and smash into things (or people). Some even go so far as to call chess a sport. Come on, now. But if you were to call even golf a sport, then certainly musicians are also athletes.
Perhaps not surprisingly, then, there have been several individuals who have excelled at both athletics and music, including Bernie Williams, Clarence Clemons and Nils Lofgren (both members of Springsteen's E Street Band), Charley Pride, George Thorogood, Sheryl Crow, Brian Wilson and Al Jardine of the Beach Boys, Mick Jagger, Bob Marley, Prince, Ginger Baker (Cream's drummer), and Kris Kristofferson, among many others.