Crafting online dime-store evo-psych explanations for various facets of modern life is cheap, easy and largely the domain of scoundrels. But it’s also fun so let’s have at it.
Sports are idealized forms of war and hunting. The most popular sports can be described “delightful control of parabolas and projectiles.”
The Evo-Psych story goes like this: early hominids hunted by running down their prey in short bursts or exhausting them in long endurance runs. But over time we learned to throw rocks, and built tools that used leverage to launch projectiles. The most important development was language and cooperation: when we worked together marshaling our projectiles against the megafauna of prehistory we were able to overcome physical limitations and feast on glorious meat. No one individual or even partnership could reliably bring down big game, but teams could. Food preservation was unknown so it made sense to gather teams together and pursue big game that would let everyone unlock the nutrients on the hoof. Bring down a big animal and everyone can eat, that meat would be inacccessable to the solo hunter and too much for he or she to consume without waste anyway.
If we follow the evo-psych “just so story,” the reason for our delight at watching and playing sports is that there is something baked into our genome after millions of years of evolution: we literally live to see projectiles flying through the air and connecting with targets. If you were able to join up with a bunch of skilled wielders of clubs and projectiles you were more likely to eat and survive. Baseballs perfectly whipped to first base hitting the glove right on target, basketballs arcing through the net, a wide receiver running perfectly in sync to catch the parabola of a long pass: All of these things are satisfying to do and watch because we come from a long line of masters of parabolic arts. If you felt the pull of teamwork and projectiles your chances of passing on your genetic material was just a little better.
In the way that Labrador retrievers don’t have to be taught to delight at a thrown ball so are we all. Sprinting and marathon running are fun and compelling too, but the complex ball sports just a little more so.
The war analog is similar: early combat was all hand to hand fighting, then as groups began to communicate and fight as units we had to adopt some of those hunting skills to human combat. Thus football and its relatives are idealized forms of the shield wall and infantry advance. The key thing is that it’s not just participation that is hard wired. Watching “our guys” run out on the gridiron and dominate the opposition is an echo to the times when understanding your groups’ abilities was the key to life and death. Fan / partisan / partner / ally. You need to delight in the combat but also in the evaluating of others’ skills and choosing the best partners.
This isn’t just the animal instinct to play games. Kids play games, dolphins play games, adults play games. “Sports” are different in that the games are explicit outgrowths of the hunting/combat arts and the most complex, evolved popular sports all involve projectile and parabola manipulation.
(In ancient Rome the simulations of war and hunting in the Coliseum weren’t even simulations. Also consider what a bullfight is.)
My wife always brings up ‘Camping’s a tradition in my family.’ Hey it was a tradition in everyone’s family until we came up with the house.
Jim Gaffigan joke
That’s the evo-psych promise: it’s literally in our genes because it was so significant to our ancestors’ survival. After all, farming is only 10,000 years old. Hunting goes back “forever.”
Grass
My favorite corner of this theory is the grass. Why do so many cheesy baseball writers talk about “that first glimpse of the green of the outfield” viewed from the stands? What’s so special about seeing grass from a slight elevation? The (association) football pitch? The (gridiron) football field? The sporting green? Why is golf so addictive? What is so special about standing at the golf tee and looking down at grass and well-spaced trees and water?
The hunter has a special relationship with short green grass. If you’re a human team armed with projectiles your advantages are vastly diminished in a deep forest or a bramble thicket. Animals can hide in tall dead grass. If it’s a desert or rocky landscape the chances are there’s nothing living for you to hunt. But find the sweet spot of short green grass near some trees and watering holes: that’s the ideal hunting ground. On open ground you can run and use your projectiles. If it’s green and watered that means game animals will come there. Better yet if there are hills where you can get a wide view and spot the game from afar and plan your hunt. The golfer who strides to the tee holding his club and projectile looks out at a scene that would read as “perfection” to every ancient hunter.
Viewing an open field of green grass from slight elevation is hard-wired into us to produce delight.
Short green grass is not a “natural” phenomenon. Grassland in nature quickly overgrows or is overtaken by emerging trees or bushes. Our ancestors learned through long experimentation how to thin forests and control thickets and dead grass with fire in order to produce the more and more perfect hunting grounds they could renew and return to. We all come from long lines of groundskeepers, landscape artists, and avid hikers with an eye for a gorgeous view.
It’s autumn and again time to return to to the football stadium. You climb on foot to a view of a grassy field that has yielded many delights before. Is it combatants or hunters and prey that spill out on the green far below you? The feast beckons. The deep appeal of this cycle is something at the very core of being human.