shaneo69
01-07-2006, 10:56 PM
WEIR: THERE'S CRYIN' IN FOOTBALL
Jan 07, 2006, 5:03:02 AM by Eileen Weir - FAQ
Returning home around 7:30 Tuesday evening, I inquired of my husband, “Any news about the miners?” Not yet.
What a relief it was to read the morning paper and learn of the miraculous recovery of twelve living beings. As he pulled on his overcoat on his way out the door, my news-source revealed the awful reality: twelve of the thirteen did not survive. “No,” I protested, “The paper’s reporting that they were found alive.”
“The paper was wrong,” he consoled. “It’s all over the television news this morning.”
My shock and grief over the tragedy ranked along the order of 9/11 and Oklahoma City. And I cried.
There’s been a lot of talk about crying lately. Who cries, why we cry, what crying reveals about the tear-shedder. I come from a long line of Irish weepers. Crying doesn’t bother me. In fact, a lack of crying during emotional times causes me greater discomfort than full-on bawling.
But most people tense in the presence of raw, unchecked emotion. The surrender of control of one’s reaction to sorrow, joy, regret, loss, particularly as displayed by grown men, triggers foot shuffling and diverted eyes from innocent bystanders. While tears can be perceived as an expression of deep feeling, they can, on the other hand, be seen as conveying a deficiency of discipline and courage. Even the sentimental Shakespeare acknowledges “much of grief shows still some want of wit” (Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V.)
Long considered a therapeutic and beneficial practice by poets, novelists, and song writers, science is catching on to the notion that crying is, indeed, good for you. Researchers verify that giving into the urge to weep reduces tension, removes toxins from the body and increases the body’s ability to heal itself leading to enhance physical and emotional health. In fact, Margaret Crepeau, Ph.D. and professor of nursing at Marquette University claims that healthy people cry more often and more profusely than their ill and ailing counterparts. Well individuals consider crying healthful, normal, and positive, while those suffering with illness and disease view tears as unnecessary and even humiliating.
Experts agree that making a habit of repressing tears is a bad idea. Though tears well up for a multitude of reasons including sadness, happiness, anger, sympathy, anxiety, and fear, studies conclude that very few people overact and cry inappropriately. Those who cry easily are considered fortunate in the scientific and psychological realms, proving they can easily access feelings. Individual expression is a critical component of our very humanity, our identity as social creatures. Sharing of happiness builds social bonds, while expressions of grief and despair feed our need for compassion and help. Solitary, non-social animals do not cry simply because there is no reason to do so.
The Chiefs may not rank as the most successful team over the past sixteen years, but I’d put them up against anyone as the wettest. Coach Marty Schottenheimer was a notorious blubberer, more prone to misting and chin-quivering than out-and-out sobbing, though there were plenty of those moments, too. Gunther Cunningham seemed the antithesis to his heart-on-the-sleeve predecessor, maintaining a stoic stiff upper lip. Gunther didn’t cry. His aim was to make other people cry. But truth be told, Gunther is a tender-hearted, emotional guy, too, with a passion and intensity that has been known to secretly spill over.
Coach Dick Vermeil was unquestionably the granddaddy of them all. Not even Marty could rival Coach Vermeil when it came to waterworks. Winning, losing, arriving, departing were all occasions for choked-up weeping. Talk about his players, past and present, his coaches, and his family, typical produced dampness behind that stern exterior.
An examination of Coach Vermeil substantiates the claims that crying is beneficial to the human body and spirit. Look at the guy. At 69 he is more fit than most men half his age. His mind is keen and his energy high. A side by side comparison of Coach with the over-60 crowd I know draws no comparison. Absolutely none. A strict diet of daily emoting has kept the wise coach youthful and vibrant.
Sure, there are some who wish the Chiefs coach – be it Schottenheimer or Vermeil – would just knock off the boo-hooing. Toughen up, they say. Be a man. What players need is a guy who will get in their face, kick them in the seat, not someone to hug them and cry about them to death. It seems… what? Undignified. Feminine. Unbefitting the position. Weak.
I beg to differ. I like the crying, and, heck, I’ll even cry along. To me it demonstrates a deep care for winning and losing, and what more could we want from our team’s head man? There are those who choose to analyze the root of such softening, suggesting that public displays of emotion are in fact means of manipulation, an act, a device to gain sympathy in the face of disappointment or to win advocates. Cunningly aware of the discomfort crying creates, non-criers accuse that the teary-eyed sob on cue knowing that those around them will concede any position simply to make the weeping stop.
I remain convinced that the tears shed by our former head coaches are genuine. If they could act that well they wouldn’t have become football coaches. They’d be living it up in the Hollywood Hills, collecting their millions without the long hours, constant pressure, and fear of professional elimination.
Whoever the next head coach of the Chiefs turns out to be, I hope he starts his inaugural press conference with a proper dose of emotion. I want a guy who is passionate and isn’t afraid to show it, a guy who is grateful and happy to be here. We can take it, we’ve been conditioned.
Jan 07, 2006, 5:03:02 AM by Eileen Weir - FAQ
Returning home around 7:30 Tuesday evening, I inquired of my husband, “Any news about the miners?” Not yet.
What a relief it was to read the morning paper and learn of the miraculous recovery of twelve living beings. As he pulled on his overcoat on his way out the door, my news-source revealed the awful reality: twelve of the thirteen did not survive. “No,” I protested, “The paper’s reporting that they were found alive.”
“The paper was wrong,” he consoled. “It’s all over the television news this morning.”
My shock and grief over the tragedy ranked along the order of 9/11 and Oklahoma City. And I cried.
There’s been a lot of talk about crying lately. Who cries, why we cry, what crying reveals about the tear-shedder. I come from a long line of Irish weepers. Crying doesn’t bother me. In fact, a lack of crying during emotional times causes me greater discomfort than full-on bawling.
But most people tense in the presence of raw, unchecked emotion. The surrender of control of one’s reaction to sorrow, joy, regret, loss, particularly as displayed by grown men, triggers foot shuffling and diverted eyes from innocent bystanders. While tears can be perceived as an expression of deep feeling, they can, on the other hand, be seen as conveying a deficiency of discipline and courage. Even the sentimental Shakespeare acknowledges “much of grief shows still some want of wit” (Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V.)
Long considered a therapeutic and beneficial practice by poets, novelists, and song writers, science is catching on to the notion that crying is, indeed, good for you. Researchers verify that giving into the urge to weep reduces tension, removes toxins from the body and increases the body’s ability to heal itself leading to enhance physical and emotional health. In fact, Margaret Crepeau, Ph.D. and professor of nursing at Marquette University claims that healthy people cry more often and more profusely than their ill and ailing counterparts. Well individuals consider crying healthful, normal, and positive, while those suffering with illness and disease view tears as unnecessary and even humiliating.
Experts agree that making a habit of repressing tears is a bad idea. Though tears well up for a multitude of reasons including sadness, happiness, anger, sympathy, anxiety, and fear, studies conclude that very few people overact and cry inappropriately. Those who cry easily are considered fortunate in the scientific and psychological realms, proving they can easily access feelings. Individual expression is a critical component of our very humanity, our identity as social creatures. Sharing of happiness builds social bonds, while expressions of grief and despair feed our need for compassion and help. Solitary, non-social animals do not cry simply because there is no reason to do so.
The Chiefs may not rank as the most successful team over the past sixteen years, but I’d put them up against anyone as the wettest. Coach Marty Schottenheimer was a notorious blubberer, more prone to misting and chin-quivering than out-and-out sobbing, though there were plenty of those moments, too. Gunther Cunningham seemed the antithesis to his heart-on-the-sleeve predecessor, maintaining a stoic stiff upper lip. Gunther didn’t cry. His aim was to make other people cry. But truth be told, Gunther is a tender-hearted, emotional guy, too, with a passion and intensity that has been known to secretly spill over.
Coach Dick Vermeil was unquestionably the granddaddy of them all. Not even Marty could rival Coach Vermeil when it came to waterworks. Winning, losing, arriving, departing were all occasions for choked-up weeping. Talk about his players, past and present, his coaches, and his family, typical produced dampness behind that stern exterior.
An examination of Coach Vermeil substantiates the claims that crying is beneficial to the human body and spirit. Look at the guy. At 69 he is more fit than most men half his age. His mind is keen and his energy high. A side by side comparison of Coach with the over-60 crowd I know draws no comparison. Absolutely none. A strict diet of daily emoting has kept the wise coach youthful and vibrant.
Sure, there are some who wish the Chiefs coach – be it Schottenheimer or Vermeil – would just knock off the boo-hooing. Toughen up, they say. Be a man. What players need is a guy who will get in their face, kick them in the seat, not someone to hug them and cry about them to death. It seems… what? Undignified. Feminine. Unbefitting the position. Weak.
I beg to differ. I like the crying, and, heck, I’ll even cry along. To me it demonstrates a deep care for winning and losing, and what more could we want from our team’s head man? There are those who choose to analyze the root of such softening, suggesting that public displays of emotion are in fact means of manipulation, an act, a device to gain sympathy in the face of disappointment or to win advocates. Cunningly aware of the discomfort crying creates, non-criers accuse that the teary-eyed sob on cue knowing that those around them will concede any position simply to make the weeping stop.
I remain convinced that the tears shed by our former head coaches are genuine. If they could act that well they wouldn’t have become football coaches. They’d be living it up in the Hollywood Hills, collecting their millions without the long hours, constant pressure, and fear of professional elimination.
Whoever the next head coach of the Chiefs turns out to be, I hope he starts his inaugural press conference with a proper dose of emotion. I want a guy who is passionate and isn’t afraid to show it, a guy who is grateful and happy to be here. We can take it, we’ve been conditioned.