From pro to pick-up: The true holiday sport

Thanksgiving may be the most homogeneous of all the major American holidays. Barring any bizarre family quirks, everyone mainly follows the same routine on Turkey Day. You stuff your face with a smorgasbord of turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce and potatoes until intense abdominal pain forces you to unbutton the top button of your pants. You listen to Grandma tell you how proud she is of you. And at the end of the afternoon, you plop your fat, dumb and happy self on the couch and pass out watching the Detroit Lions lose another football game.

Football is the only sport to my knowledge that has become a major part of an American holiday, and to take it further, the NFL has even created a holiday of its own in Superbowl Sunday, a night of nachos, Buffalo wings and cheap beer; America at its finest. Similar to Thanksgiving, Superbowl Sunday leaves you sprawled across the couch in a catatonic stupor, half-undressed and face smeared with the orange-ish blend of nacho cheese and wings sauce. In no other sport does "the big game" reach such a level of popularity as in football. Maybe this is because the championship rests on one single game rather than a series. Maybe it's because there's some unexplainable link between football, gluttony and drunkenness. Whatever the reason, it is almost certain that wherever you end up on Superbowl Sunday, there will be a crowd.

Football in this sense brings people together. Over dinner, you may have bitterly argued with your crazy uncle about whether or not an Obama victory will bring about the apocalypse. You may have even flung a gravy-saturated lump of mashed potatoes in his face. But when the game is on, you'll find yourself cheering alongside him, cringing over big hits with him and sharing the thrills of victory or the woes of defeat.

Football is also the perfect way to bring your high school friends all together at the same time. The pick-up football game has become a tradition in my town. Each year, the day after Thanksgiving, we meet up in the local park, reminisce about old times, crack a few jokes and proceed to bludgeon each other to the ground for three hours. It's the friendliest violence in which one could ever hope to participate.

But pick-up football also bears a curious dynamic. One's performance on the field demonstrates how successfully one has managed to stay in shape after the year or so of keg beer and cafeteria food that is synonymous with college life. Through my three years of playing backyard football, I've managed to narrow down the four stereotypical characters who will show up on game day:

The Natural Athlete - You did not invite this person. He was miles away when he caught the scent of competitive sports and sprinted all the way to the park to participate. The Natural Athlete lives his life under the motto "Give 110 percent" and every time he touches the ball it is a guaranteed touchdown. You kick away from him, but he will leapfrog over his teammates to gain possession and after a quarter or two, you will inevitably give up chasing him and allow him to revel in his physical glory.

The Guy Who Used to be Good at Sports - This character will roll up to the park most likely wearing his high school letterman jacket (with all the team captain and MVP pins attached). The high school state championship trophy will be attached to his car as a hood ornament. At one time, he was the god of the playing field, the ultimate jock. However, after a few years of kegstands and Easy Mac consumption while watching his personal highlight videos, the Guy Who Used to be Good at Sports has developed a significant gut. His 40-yard dash time has decreased significantly, and his once air-tight spiral is now a wobbly under-thrown heave. Noticing the extreme diminishment of his athletic ability, he will be the first one to say, "Next point wins. Let's get out of here."

The Chain Smokers - These individuals come in pairs. They make a few good plays at the beginning of the game, but their lung-wearying habit eventually gets the better of them. They seek each other out for man coverage and lazily deliver a lackluster effort for the rest of the game. Word to the wise: Drafting two Chain Smokers for your team will spell ultimate failure.

The Freight Train - This six-foot tall, 250-pound behemoth is the most terrifying character of the pick-up football saga. Once he figures out that he can plow over anyone on the field, his team will run the ball every play, defensive players bouncing off him as he trucks toward the end zone. It takes a minimum of five players to bring the Freight Train to the ground. If you have the ball and you see him coming toward you, swallow your pride and run out of bounds. You don't want to spend the rest of Thanksgiving break in the intensive care ward.