NEWTON'S LAW: WARFARE, GAMESMANSHIP AND THE NEED FOR AN AERIAL ATTACK

The two great television events of this week (not counting "Lonesome Dove") have a relationship: the Persian Gulf war and the Super Bowl. Indulge the comparison because there is a point, not altogether far-fetched, to be made.

The link between warfare and professional football is not new. One of the themes of the 1971 book "Out of Their League" was the connection between national attitudes and what people witnessed on gridirons on Sunday afternoons, particularly in terms of aggression.

This theme should be taken for what it is, formulated and disseminated at the zenith of Vietnam's anti-war movement. The book, however, was something of a landmark in the sports genre because it presented a totally negative representation of athletics in this nation.

"Out of Their League" also carried some parochial interest here since the author had played for the St. Louis Cardinals. Dave Meggyesy was a linebacker-turned-hippie who became a sensation when he wrote about racism, drug abuse and inhumanity in the NFL.

Many of Meggyesy's flower-child notions are a bit threadbare today. For instance, his celebration after being "liberated" from professional football included taking "some righteous sunshine acid" ... well, you get the point. Still, his case is worth studying after two decades, if only for some interesting parallels.

Now as then, the NFL presses ahead during times of great national concern. Despite the war abroad, the league played its championship games last Sunday and will proceed with the Super Bowl this weekend. No problem there. The nation must give due reverence to events but life must go on.

In Meggyesy's book, he recalls playing football two days after President Kennedy was shot, a day before he was buried. Players were not comfortable with the decision that the schedule would proceed as planned that day, and less so with the NFL's reasoning. "Football was Mr. Kennedy's game," Commissioner Pete Rozelle announced. "He thrived on competition."

The Cardinals were playing the Giants at Yankee Stadium. Meggyesy writes:

"The fans were listless at first, the quietest fans I'd ever heard anywhere. But I realized the power of football that day, for within a few minutes of opening kickoff they had forgotten the national tragedy and were yelling their heads off. It was frightening as hell."

More to the case at hand, Meggyesy made the point that the language of martial action and gridiron action are closely knit. Players "throw the bomb" and mount "blitzes." A quarterback is referred to as a "field general" and one with a live arm is said to command a potent "aerial attack."

The pep talks of Vince Lombardi were not far removed from those of George Patton; recognition of this would have pleased the coach.

Here is where we can abandon the comparison, because the conflict in the Middle East is no game. In football, you can build up a big lead with a passing game, but then go to a ground game to run out the clock. There is no clock in Iraq and no great and urgent call for a military ground game.

Aerial warfare in the Middle East has worked well in the past week, with surprisingly few allied casualties and mounting destruction for the enemy. The "smart" weapons have indeed been smart. If Saddam Hussein's forces can't or won't defend the skies, the allies should exploit that front until it hurts Iraq. Technology is there to work for man; let it also fight for man.

War is not football but there will be both Sunday. After that, a gridiron champion will be crowned. If only we could count on the war ending by that date.