Written By: Neil Frawley

A few days ago, I overheard a colleague of mine say that he wouldn’t mind if the SEC disbanded its football program, saying that football is overrated and the sport has no value.

Actually, I didn’t overhear it. My colleague and I were arguing.

But that’s not the point.

That statement resonated with me. It hurt, actually.

It really cut into me, and as we continued this debate with him taking the side basically saying that sports don’t matter, it really started to make me angry (not outwardly—I kept my cool and respected his viewpoint), but I left it alone, thinking about it for days.

Sports have been there for me my whole life. I was raised on them and played them, and I rooted for my teams with passion that I’ve felt for nothing else in my life.

 I’ve seen grown men cry because of sports out of both joy and misery.

And I totally understand that sports do nothing to cure disease, and they aren’t front-page news because in the end, it is just a game, and no matter who wins or loses, the sun will rise the next day, but sports do, in fact, matter to society and is every bit as important to people as anything else, and anyone who says they don’t is wrong.

In March 2009, one of the 64 teams named to the NCAA tournament was on its way to a miracle run to the iconic Final Four, but not miraculous for the Tom Izzo led Michigan State Spartans, although I’m sure they were quite elated as well, but for the city of Detroit, a city that had been devastated after the bankruptcy of General Motors, a company that, according to Wikipedia, employs over 200,000 people.

The 2009 NCAA Final Four games, whether by coincidence or on purpose, was played in Detroit, Mich.

The Michigan State Spartans, the number two seed out of the Midwest region, was also at the time playing their best basketball of the year, beating not just one, but two number one seeds (Louisville and Connecticut) on their way to the championship game to play the Tar Heels of North Carolina.

While UNC pulled out the victory in the championship game, neither the score nor the result is the point (although a Michigan State victory would have been better for the story).

More important than the result was the fact that for one month, and the weeks and months leading to Michigan State’s run to the title game, the people of Detroit had something to take them away from their issues.

For one month, they could forget about the depression that so many former employees and their families were feeling.

For one month, the members of that community were able to band together and root on their team and feel proud about the boys from East Lansing, Mich. representing the state of Michigan in front of the whole nation, and in other areas of the world. That is power, and that is something that nothing else can provide for group of that many people.

But if you aren’t yet sold, then consider the story of Eric Legrand.

Legrand grew up a football star from his hometown of Avenel, N.J. The 6-3, 263 pound defensive tackle chose to remain in state and go to Rutgers, turning down offers to play at schools such as Miami and Notre Dame.

But Legrand wouldn’t be known for his life on the field, but more importantly for his life after football. On Oct. 16, 2010, LeGrand suffered spinal cord injury that left him paralyzed from the neck down.

Doctors told Legrand’s mother, Karen, that Eric had between a zero and five percent chance of regaining any neurologic function, a message that Karen never relayed to Eric because he was determined to work out, mouthing the words “I’ll be back” to his mother just after emerging from a nine hour surgery.

Defying everything the doctors said about Eric’s outlook of recovery, Eric got to work. Just a month after his surgery, Legrand was already challenging himself to breathe without the aid of medical equipment. When the doctors told him he wouldn’t last a minute, he lasted one hour. On Jan. 6, Rutgers University announced that Legrand had regained movement in his shoulders, and in 2011 he posted a picture on Twitter showing him standing straight up without the aid of a wheel chair. He still has not gained the ability to walk, but claims that he believes 100 percent that he will one day walk again.

LeGrand’s story has become an inspiration to hundreds upon thousands, if not millions of people. Led by the word “Believe” which has been an integral part of LeGrand’s life since his days in high school, LeGrand in the wake of his injury has sparked a Rutger’s University led fund in which they call “BELieve,” which raises funds through selling sport gear with the number 52, LeGrand’s number, stitched on them. And just over a month ago, Rutgers University honored LeGrand by retiring his number in Metlife Stadium on Sept. 14.

Sports really help in giving people hope.

Whether it’s a story where one defies the odds like Eric LeGrand did or one in which inspires a whole community to come together and forget its problems like Michigan State pulling up the city of Detroit or just a success story like VSU going on to win the division II National Championship, sports brings people together, no matter the story at hand.

And there’s always a story, whether it’s a story about certain players, certain teams or even personal stories about us sports fans.

And even though the reason that we choose our teams is more or less arbitrary, it says something about us. It reminds me of how anytime in high school when Wheeler High School won or did something good, I would always say that “we” won, and my dad would object by saying “What’s this ‘we’ you’re talking about?”

I understand what he meant. I wasn’t actually the one out there playing the game, but I still felt I was providing something as a member of the community of Wheeler High School.

In the end, sports matter because without it, life would be boring, and even if they aren’t providing us with something absolutely necessary for human life to exist, they do captivate us and bind us with people we might not otherwise have anything to do with.

The bottom line is that sports do matter.