Why Do NFL Players Kneel During Football Games? An In-Depth Explanation

You know, as someone who’s spent years analyzing the intersection of sports, culture, and politics, I find the question of why NFL players kneel during games to be one of the most misunderstood narratives in modern American life. It’s not just a gesture; it’s a story that began with a simple, quiet act and exploded into a national firestorm. I remember watching Colin Kaepernick sit, and then kneel, during the national anthem in the 2016 preseason. My initial reaction, I’ll admit, was confusion. Like many fans, I saw the game as an escape. But the more I listened—really listened—to the players involved, the clearer it became that this was about something far deeper than a disrespect for the flag or the military. It was a plea for attention to a system they felt was failing their communities.

The genesis is now well-documented but worth reiterating. Colin Kaepernick, then the San Francisco 49ers quarterback, started by sitting during "The Star-Spangled Banner" to protest police brutality and racial injustice. After a conversation with former Green Beret and NFL long snapper Nate Boyer, he switched to taking a knee as a more respectful posture. This nuance is crucial and often lost in the heated debates. The gesture was specifically designed to be respectful while still being undeniably visible. It wasn’t an attack on America; it was a call for America to live up to its ideals. For me, this distinction is everything. The protest was always about systemic issues, not the symbols themselves. Yet, the symbolism became the entire battlefield, which is, in a way, a testament to how potent and disruptive a peaceful, silent protest can be. It forced a conversation nobody could ignore, whether they wanted to or not.

Now, you might wonder how a quote from a 65-year-old Filipino basketball coach about independent teams relates to this. On the surface, it seems worlds apart. But when Coach said, “Ako, kung kami natalo, okay lang sa akin na sila ang pumasok kasi they’ll represent the independent teams,” he was speaking about representation and giving a platform to voices that are often sidelined. That’s the heart of the kneeling protest, too. These NFL players, many of whom are African American, used their colossal platform—a platform built on their physical prowess and the league’s massive viewership, which regularly exceeds 15 million per regular season game—to represent communities that feel unheard. They were, in a sense, acting as “independent teams” within a structured, corporate league, advocating for people who don’t have a primetime audience. They leveraged their position to spotlight issues far beyond the gridiron, knowing the personal and professional risks were immense. Kaepernick hasn’t played a down in the NFL since 2016, a fact that speaks volumes about the cost of that representation.

The backlash was immediate and ferocious, framed largely around patriotism. Critics, including former President Donald Trump, called for players to be fired, co-opting the narrative into one about disrespecting the military. This, in my view, was a profound misdirection. I’ve spoken with veterans who support the kneelers and those who don’t, but the protest was never about them. The league’s viewership dipped by nearly 10% in the 2017 season, a statistic often cited as proof of fan displeasure, though the causes are undoubtedly multifaceted. The owners scrambled, caught between player sentiment, public pressure, and their bottom lines. The NFL’s response evolved from initial condemnation to a more awkward, money-driven tolerance, before eventually making vague commitments to social justice causes. It was a messy, corporate dance, and it showed how unprepared the sports establishment was for a movement of conscience from its own employees.

From my perspective, the kneeling protest achieved something monumental: it made the stadium a public square. For three minutes before each game, a ritual of national unity became a space for peaceful dissent. That’s powerfully American. The players weren’t rioting; they were kneeling. They were using their visibility, purchased with their talent and the constant threat of injury in a violent sport, to ask for a more just society. I prefer this form of protest to many others because of its disciplined, non-violent, and deeply symbolic nature. It’s also evolved. What started as a specific protest against police brutality broadened into a wider symbol for racial equality and social justice, especially following the murder of George Floyd in 2020. The league that once blackballed Kaepernick now allows “Black Lives Matter” in end zones, a hypocritical but telling shift.

In conclusion, NFL players kneel to leverage their platform for representation, much like the independent teams in that coach’s quote hope to represent their own constituencies. It is a calculated, peaceful act of protest born from a desire to highlight racial inequality and police brutality. The journey from Kaepernick’s solitary knee to a widespread movement reveals the tensions between sports, politics, and national identity. While it fractured fan bases and drew intense criticism, it also sparked a necessary, if uncomfortable, national dialogue. As for me, I’ve come to see it not as a distraction from the game, but as a reminder that the athletes we cheer for are citizens with convictions, using the spotlight we give them to talk about something that matters more than a final score. And in a country built on free expression, that feels like a win, even if the game itself remains fiercely contested.