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Sunday’s return of the NFL was a welcome event here in Mr. Faded Glory-land. Not only did it allow me to lazily sit in front of the TV from the Chiefs kickoff until the Colts closed out a win, it also allowed the bitter taste of Iowa’s laid-egg to evaporate from my mouth. In addition, my sloth very nearly put an end to the Official Marriage of Mr. Faded Glory – which would have been a disappointingly short tenure.

Sunday also marked the fourth anniversary of September 11, one of perhaps the two most devastating disasters in United States, and certainly the somber, defining moment of several overlapping generations.

As with any event, each year’s remembrance in the media dissipates a little, from full, overarching debate and coverage into simple, passing mentions. The day doesn’t go unnoticed, unmentioned, or unseen, however, and is forever etched into our memories.

On a lighter note, the anniversary of Sept. 11 also brings to mind a much, much more insignificant anniversary – upon which the Worldwide Leader decided to abandon the notion of Sunday night SportsCenter’s Plays of the Week – a satisfying, tongue-in-cheek montage of the week’s highlights and lowlights interspersed with narrative from Dan Patrick or Keith Olbermann. Admittedly, the segment lost some luster with Olbermann’s departure, but it still remained the centerpiece of the Sunday night show through the end of the millennium.

Immediately after September 11, ESPN decided its Plays of the Week was too whimsical for its audience in the wake of terror attacks.

Whew! most males 18-34 exclaimed, I certainly realized that there was no place in my life for sarcasm, or even light-hearted sports! I’d better call my mom and tell her I love her
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In its POTW stead, ESPN has run, for four straight years, Chris Berman’s Top-Ten Predictable, Heartwrenching, Sob-inducing, Attempting to be Relevant top plays. An awful idea from its inception, the segment relies on ESPN’s face, Berman, to introduce his top ten plays of the week past – but not without long, boring, self-important, patronizing and winded introductions that attempt to remind us of the joys of sports — but of course keep us grounded by beating into our heads the triviality of athletic endeavor juxtaposed with the triumph of the human spirit. Blech.

It’s been running for four years now, and you can count on a come-from-behind story, against-all-odds comeback play, or ridiculous milestone event to be the No. 1 play. It’s pure schmaltz, and the stuff is vomit-inducing. ESPN’s attempt to remind its audience of the joy of sports intersecting with some semblance of perspective not only insults its viewers, but it robs its flagship program of even more highlights, and its actual bit of palatable whimsy.

Also, its not as if there is too little time to insert the POTW feature — during four years of Chris Berman, the POTW dwindle to only ten highlights, most recycled from that very day’s broadcast, and eight minutes of commercials now surround its dual chapters. The use of schmaltz to scold sports viewers for attempting whimsy, religiously worshiping teams, and marginalizing actual, tangible human events is nothing new, however.

Presumably (I didn’t watch — though somehow in the ten minutes in which I sit down to eat breakfast on Monday, that damn top-plays feature is always on, and I turn it, because of too many commercials) …

Presumably, Berman alluded to the New Orleans’ Saints triumphant win over the home Carolina Panthers on Sunday, as some sort of colossal achievement representative of the will of thousands of displaced New Orleans citizens.

This heartwarming notion was espoused not only by Berman, but by virtually every columnist, anchor, and sportswriter in America. And why not? It’s the easy story to write, it makes people feel good, and, most importantly, it proves that sportswriters have some sort of meaningful grasp on their role in society. Espousing the notion that New Orleans is now America’s team is a pure vanilla notion that hopefully conveys to the reader an astounding sense of perspective. (Remember when the Yankees were America’s Team back in 2001? Ye gods.)

This idea is patently, absurd, of course. I am certain that there are some New Orleans residents who root for the Saints, and who were potentially elevated in spirit by the team’s win.

I’m also certain that the displaced players and coaches were more inspired to play than ever before – There’s no reason the Saints shouldn’t feel an injection of personal pride after a disaster, influencing their careers, lives, and performances. Sure, they’re lucky to play a game, coach a game, or whatever, and they owe it to themselves not to forget this. They may have even thought they were playing as representatives the spirits of New Orleans’ citizens, misguided or noble as that may be.

However, I sincerely doubt that in the whole scope of things, an opening-day win by the Saints really masks, for even a second, the long struggles that face the city. I sincerely doubt that many people attempting to rebuild their own lives scarcely noticed. And, to wit, I don’t think a Saints win – was exactly what New Orleans needed. Please. This notion doesn’t express any sort of perspective, rather, it confirms an utter lack of it.

But that doesn’t matter. Not to sports media. It has become a cause of sports relevance – for an entire celebrated industry, beat writers up to programming executives, to congratulate one another, and to revel in this triumph of human spirit It’s not like my favorite football writers aren’t exempt — Peter King, Dr. Z, Gregg Easterbrook, Len P. — they all write some variation on this theme. It’s on SportsCenter, Headline News. Knight Ridder. AP. Everyone attempts to tackle the theme of this displaced team, casting them in the light of worthy underdog, champions of thousands of people. (If you’re a Panthers fan, in fact, you were likely condemned to hell during the game.) And, of course, bordering on the most egregious are the tear-inducing ESPN/ABC’s doubleheader next week — promising to be a tribute to the nation or to hurricane victims or some other self-congratulated notion.

The institution and its members assume that it is wholly justified and part of the mythology of sports that a team can lift an entire nation and people’s spirits. It’s a lack of understanding, a disconnect from reality, and an insult to our perspective — cast under the magical glow of sports and the will of humans playing a game. And it’s all a little trite, a lot overdone, a little stale, and a lot unsettling.

Please understand, however, this is just one writer’s perspective — or, according to sports media, his lack thereof.