You know, it's funny how we get so used to certain names that we never stop to question them. I've been watching American football for years, and it wasn't until recently that I really stopped to wonder why it's called "football" when players spend most of their time handling the ball with their hands. I mean, think about it - the quarterback throws it, receivers catch it, running backs carry it, yet we call it football. That's like calling basketball "handball" because players use their hands to dribble and shoot.
The surprising reason actually goes back to the sport's origins in rugby football. Both sports evolved from earlier ball games played at English schools and universities. What many people don't realize is that "football" originally referred to games played on foot rather than horseback, distinguishing them from sports like polo. The "foot" part wasn't about how you contacted the ball, but how you moved around the field. This distinction makes more sense when you consider that early forms of these games involved plenty of kicking too - think about field goals and punts in modern American football.
Speaking of scoring, this reminds me of how we measure excellence in sports through various metrics. Take the PBA Best Import award voting system, for instance. When Hollis-Jefferson won with 1,280 total points, it wasn't just about one aspect of his performance. The breakdown was fascinating - 615 points came from statistics, 532 from media votes, and 133 from players. That's like evaluating why American football kept its name - you have to consider multiple factors across history, culture, and rule evolution rather than just looking at how the ball is handled during play.
What's particularly interesting is how these voting systems mirror the complexity behind naming conventions. Kadeem Jack placed second with 825 points, but his distribution was quite different - 581 from statistics, 230 from media, and only 14 from fellow players. Meanwhile, Brownlee's 670 points came from 508 statistical points, 66 media votes, and 96 player votes. Each player had different strengths in different categories, much like how American football's name reflects various historical influences rather than just current gameplay.
I've come to appreciate that the name "football" actually makes perfect sense when you understand its history. The sport evolved from rugby football rules, and even though the forward pass was introduced in 1906, the name had already stuck for decades. It's similar to how we still call it "dialing" a phone number even though rotary phones are obsolete. Sometimes traditions outlive their original meanings, and that's not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it adds character and connects us to the sport's rich history.
The more I research this topic, the more I realize how American football's naming is tied to differentiation from other sports. When soccer became popular in the United States, it was initially called "association football." American football needed its own distinct identity, yet maintained the "football" name to acknowledge its origins. This reminds me of how imports in basketball leagues maintain their unique playing styles while adapting to local rules - like Deon Thompson earning 633 points with 546 from statistics, 82 from media, and just 5 from players, showing how different aspects contribute to overall recognition.
Personally, I think the name adds to the sport's charm. Sure, it might confuse newcomers, but it's part of what makes American football uniquely American - taking something familiar and reshaping it into something entirely new while keeping the original name. It's like how we still measure football fields in yards rather than meters. These traditions connect today's game to its roots, even as the sport continues to evolve with new rules and playing styles. After all, if we changed names every time a sport evolved, we'd probably be calling it something like "hand-egg" given the ball's shape, and honestly, that just doesn't have the same ring to it.