"More Than a Game: Football, Freedom, and the Ghosts of the Battlefield at Thanksgiving"

Thanksgiving in America means many things: gathering with family, enjoying a feast, and settling in for the traditional football game. For many households, the roar of a crowd and the clash of helmets are as much a part of the day as turkey and pumpkin pie. But underneath the pageantry of parades and the crunch of shoulder pads, there’s a deeper connection between these beloved traditions and the battlefield—a connection often overlooked.

Football has always shared a special bond with the military. Both demand grit, discipline, teamwork, and courage under pressure. But some of the game’s greatest players didn’t just fight on the gridiron—they served their country on distant shores and in dangerous skies.

Take Chuck Bednarik, a Hall of Fame linebacker who flew 30 bombing missions over Nazi Germany in World War II before becoming a legend with the Philadelphia Eagles. Or Tom Landry, known best as the stoic architect of the Dallas Cowboys dynasty, who piloted a B-17 bomber during the war. Al Blozis, a rising star for the New York Giants, was killed in action in France, leaving behind a football career full of promise. Otto Graham, one of the game's all-time great quarterbacks, wore a Coast Guard uniform before he wore a Browns jersey.

During Vietnam, Rocky Bleier's story captured the hearts of fans and veterans alike. Wounded in combat, told he'd never play again, he returned to help the Steelers win four Super Bowls. And then there’s Pat Tillman, the Arizona Cardinals safety who walked away from a multimillion-dollar NFL contract to enlist after 9/11. He was killed in Afghanistan, a symbol of ultimate sacrifice and conviction.

These men remind us that the privileges of peace, including the simple joy of watching a football game, were earned at a cost. The game may go on every Thanksgiving, but for many service members—past and present—the holiday doesn’t bring the usual comforts. It brings memories of what was lost, of comrades not at the table, of games not watched, and moments not shared.

Football, too, can carry this weight. Veterans often see more than a game: they see the discipline of drills, the camaraderie of a unit, the stakes of leadership. But unlike war, football ends when the whistle blows. There are no parades for the plays no one saw. For those who never came home, the games go on without them.

As we cheer for touchdowns and fill our plates this Thanksgiving, Ghosts of the Battlefield invites us to pause and remember the invisible players—the soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines—who aren’t just names in history books but once stood shoulder to shoulder with teammates, family, and countrymen.

They are the empty seats at the table. The stories behind the flags. The true guardians of the game.