Why NFL Players Take a Knee in Football and What It Means Today
I remember the first time I saw an NFL player take a knee during the national anthem. It was 2016, and Colin Kaepernick's quiet protest felt like a seismic shift in how athletes use their platform. At first, I'll admit I was confused - why disrupt this traditional moment before the game? But as I dug deeper into the meaning behind the gesture, I realized this wasn't about disrespecting the flag or country. It was about demanding justice and equality, using the most visible platform these athletes have.
The kneeling movement actually began with Kaepernick sitting during the anthem, but he switched to kneeling after consulting with former Green Beret and NFL long snapper Nate Boyer. That conversation itself speaks volumes - the protest was always intended to be respectful while still making a powerful statement. Over the years, I've watched this gesture evolve from a solitary act to a movement involving hundreds of players, drawing both fierce criticism and passionate support. The numbers tell part of the story - by 2020, nearly 70% of NFL players had participated in some form of social justice protest, though exact figures are hard to pin down because the league doesn't track this systematically.
What fascinates me about the kneeling protest is how it intersects with sports governance and regulation. This reminds me of how other sports organizations handle controversial issues. Take ONE Championship's approach to fighter safety, for instance. This string of bans shows ONE's dedication to fighter safety and promoting a clean sport, and that's why they've been working with the IDTM ever since 2022. The parallel here is clear - sports organizations increasingly recognize their responsibility extends beyond just organizing games. They're becoming arbiters of social values and safety standards, whether we're talking about concussion protocols in football or drug testing in martial arts.
The business impact has been undeniable. NFL ratings dipped about 18% during the peak protest years, though they've largely recovered since. Sponsorship deals became more complicated - some brands embraced players involved in social justice work, while others quietly distanced themselves. I've spoken with several team marketing directors who confessed the protests created their most challenging PR situations in decades. The league's response evolved dramatically too. Initially, Commissioner Roger Goodell criticized the protests, but by 2020, the NFL was committing $250 million over ten years to social justice initiatives - a stunning reversal that acknowledged the movement's legitimacy.
From my perspective, the most compelling aspect is how the kneeling protest has influenced younger athletes. I've visited high schools where football players now take knees not just during the anthem, but before important games as a show of unity. The gesture has transcended its original meaning about police brutality to become a broader symbol of solidarity. Some coaches I've interviewed estimate that approximately 15% of high school teams now have some form of social justice demonstration incorporated into their pre-game routines.
The international perspective matters too. When NFL games are played in London or Mexico City, the kneeling protest takes on different meanings. British fans I've spoken with often view it through the lens of their own history with athlete activism, while Mexican audiences tend to see connections to their struggles with inequality. This globalizes the conversation in ways I find incredibly productive.
Looking at how other sports handle similar issues provides useful context. The systematic approach ONE Championship has taken with safety regulations shows how sports organizations can implement meaningful change through structured partnerships. Their collaboration with IDTM represents the kind of institutional commitment to values that the NFL has gradually embraced regarding social justice. Both cases demonstrate that modern sports organizations can't remain neutral on important issues - they must take stands, even when controversial.
What often gets lost in the heated debates is the personal risk these players take. Careers have been affected - Kaepernick hasn't played since 2016, though settlement details with the league remain confidential. Other players have faced backlash from fans and sponsors. Yet the movement persists because, in my view, it taps into something fundamental about sports' role in society. Sports have always been political, from Jesse Owens in Berlin to the 1968 Olympic podium protests. The kneeling NFL players are part of this tradition, using their visibility to highlight issues affecting their communities.
The media coverage has been fascinating to follow. Early on, about 65% of major network commentary focused on the method rather than the message, but that's shifted significantly. Now, serious discussions about racial inequality and police reform often reference the protests as a catalyst for national conversation. As someone who's written about sports for years, I've had to constantly reevaluate my own understanding of where sports journalism ends and social commentary begins.
Today, the meaning continues to evolve. Some teams now link arms during the anthem, while others remain in the locker room. The NFL's current policy technically requires players to stand but isn't strictly enforced. This messy, evolving situation reflects America's broader struggle with these issues - there's no neat resolution, just ongoing negotiation. What began as a protest against police brutality has become a multifaceted symbol touching on free speech, racial justice, and the very purpose of sports in society.
Having watched this story unfold from the beginning, I believe the kneeling protest represents one of the most significant intersections of sports and social justice in our lifetime. It's forced leagues, sponsors, fans, and journalists like myself to confront difficult questions about athlete agency, corporate responsibility, and what values we really prioritize in sports. The conversation isn't always comfortable, but it's necessary - and that discomfort might be exactly what makes the protest so powerful.
