The national anthem blared over Busch Stadium, and David Meggyesy stood in line with — but apart from — his St. Louis Cardinals teammates. A mandate had come from the NFL during the week: When “The Star-Spangled Banner” played, players would line up facing the flag, helmet tucked under their left arm and right hand placed over their heart.
“What I said,” Meggyesy recalled, “was no.”
Meggyesy, a 26-year-old linebacker, bowed his head and held the face mask of his helmet with one hand, letting it rest between his knee and hip.
The year was 1968, and as the Vietnam War raged on, Meggyesy saw no other way to address the conflict he felt. In his mind, the league was overtly backing the war effort to appease Middle America. “The younger people,” he said, “understood what the f--- was going on.” The St. Louis antiwar chapter operated out of a third-floor office in his house.
By the end of the 1968 season, despite playing at a near-all-pro level, Meggyesy would be benched. By the end of the 1969 season, he was out of the league for good — blackballed, he believes, for his stance.
“I was more pissed about their response of militarism, patriotism and all that more than anything,” Meggyesy recalled this summer in a phone conversation. “And the overt burden of the players, saying, ‘You’re the chattel out here, and you’ve got no say how we’re going to do it and salute the flag.’ Which is a personal decision for anybody
...
In 2015, an oversight report by Sens. Jeff Flake and John McCain of Arizona revealed the NFL as one of several leagues that accepted Department of Defense funds to stage military tributes, a practice known as paid patriotism. (The league eventually gave back more than $700,000, drawing praise from Flake.) Joe Lockhart, a former Clinton administration staffer, had just joined the NFL as a spokesman when the scandal broke.
“As I dug into that a little bit, the National Guard, which is probably the most aggressive advertiser at NFL games, talked about how it was the single best recruitment vehicle they had,” said Lockhart, who left the NFL last year. “Which is just interesting. I think there is a connection. . . . Football Sundays have a connection to what a lot of people view as patriotism.”
...
Into the 1980s and 1990s, the NFL continued to position itself as a patriotic entity, using the Super Bowl as its largest platform. The game became a de facto national holiday, a celebration of both sport and country. The league coordinated flyovers with the Department of Defense, with the national anthem a central part of the spectacle.
...
When the United States launched the war in Afghanistan later in the fall, it happened on a Sunday morning. President Bush’s speech announcing the campaign played on video boards in NFL stadiums. Sporting events became a source of normalcy and communion.
As wars in the Middle East wore on, the NFL’s brand of patriotism placed the military at the fore of its charitable efforts and its brand. Military tributes are pervasive at games, so commonplace that the Marines used the appeal of them in a recruitment commercial. In 2009, Army Gen. David H. Petraeus flipped the opening coin of the Super Bowl at midfield.
...
But the prevalence of the tributes worries some. The service members presented at games can feel like props, part of a show. The camouflage uniforms and accessories can cheapen the sacrifice of soldiers and prohibit critical thinking about the military.
“It almost feels like it’s a mandatory patriotism that is pushed down the throats of anybody who wants to attend a game,” said former Army Ranger and author Rory Fanning, who has become a vocal critic of America’s wars. “By trotting out veterans, patting them on the back, I don’t think it does justice to the actual experience of veterans, particularly over the last 18 years. There certainly isn’t an opportunity for veterans to talk about their experiences in combat. So many veterans don’t feel like the heroes the NFL wants to present them as.”