Matt Liere: The anthem protest helps a sportsman rediscover Sundays

At first I was right there with the rest of the enraged throngs, furious my home team and several others elected to kneel or sit out during presentation of the National Anthem. Who did they think they were, these privileged, well-paid athletes, to scorn the flag and country that allowed them to be so fortunate?

Why disrespect the fans whom supported them, who spent significant portions of meager wages for tickets and travel, or television subscriptions to watch their favorite teams battle every week? Why anger the sponsors and taxpayers that made their lives so comfortable?

And the even bigger question: What, exactly, were they protesting? I’m still confused, but I suspect a lot of those protesting are too, based on the varied debates circulating the media circus.

I default to my mother’s wisdom, as all good sons eventually do, and remember her advice: “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”

I never much cared for that phrase – my first inclination is to take those lemons and squirt them in the eye of whomever said that – but that would be disrespectful to Mom, and considering the current debacle with the NFL, it seems perfectly applicable.

There was time long ago (okay, last week), where I’d willingly sacrifice a day of potential productivity for a day on the couch, supplemented by craft beer and chicken wings, watching football until Al Michaels told me there was no more.

It was an American thing to do on Sunday in America.

As a true American, I was more than honored to do it. But recent actions tarnished mine and hundreds of thousands of other Americans’ opinions of those we looked forward to watching every week – those who have now chosen to devalue the sacrifice and blood others willingly gave, by taking a knee. I’m not gonna lie – I was going to miss it.

Lemons to lemonade. I’d like to thank both my mother, and the NFL. Mom, for reminding me of what is really important in life; the NFL for freeing up my time to pursue them. Here are some highlights:

1. Fall Turkey. For the first time ever, I’m free to pursue turkey in September without having to miss a game, because I’ll miss them all. I’ve listened to late-season Merriams chatter on the hillside every fall while grilling wings on the deck, watching soundless games through the window. This year I’ll watch real turkeys from the blind instead of those pixelated forms on the sidelines.

2. Kokanee spawn. It’s just coming on now, but with the boat out of the water and games on TV, I always seem to miss the splendid, technicolor migration of hook-nosed fish up the rivers and tributaries. My children have yet to see it either and I have only my selfishness to blame. This year is shaping up to be something special.

3. Retirement. I’ve been retired from the military for six years now, but have been actively working toward the next. Shaking the NFL’s grip will not only help achieve this goal sooner, but I’ll be in better shape upon arrival. IPAs, junk food, game tickets, couch squatting, and Fantasy Football have done little to benefit my bank account, much less my physique. Retiring in seven years would be a stretch based on my football bills alone, but at this rate, my cholesterol will have turned down the covers and dimmed the lights long before I was financially set anyway. Now that can change, too.

Chicken wings, however, are still OK. They’re low LDL and cheap. More importantly, they are super-American, and they’ve never let me down.