That's one of the great things about Thanksgiving: Football's

"That's one of the great things about Thanksgiving: Football's on!" In these jubilant words, Michael Strahan unites two great American traditions—Thanksgiving and football. His declaration reminds us that the holiday is not only a feast of food and gratitude, but also a feast of sport and camaraderie. Just as the table gathers families around bread and turkey, the screen gathers them around the field of play, where warriors clash, and victories are won. It is a ritual of fellowship, binding generations through shared passion and shared memory.

The origin of this tradition reaches back to the late 19th century, when football first began to grow in American culture. The first Thanksgiving Day football game was played in 1876, only a few years after the sport itself had been born. By the 20th century, professional teams—most famously the Detroit Lions in 1934—began hosting annual games on Thanksgiving Day, embedding the sport forever into the holiday. Thus, Strahan’s words echo a truth etched deep into American history: that on this day of gathering, football is as expected as turkey, stuffing, and pie.

But why has football become so tied to Thanksgiving? The answer lies in the nature of both. Football is a game of struggle and triumph, of teams working together toward a common goal. Thanksgiving, too, is a celebration of unity, a pause to honor both survival and abundance. Just as families gather to give thanks for what they have, teams gather to strive with all they have. The gridiron becomes a symbol of life’s battles, and watching it together becomes a ritual of identity. Strahan celebrates this connection, reminding us that joy can be found in both the table and the field.

History offers countless stories of this connection. During World War II, when many games were disrupted, servicemen overseas still played makeshift games on Thanksgiving, using helmets fashioned from scraps and balls made from rags. For them, football was not just a game but a piece of home, a way to remember who they were and what they fought for. This shows us that football on Thanksgiving is not merely entertainment, but a thread that ties together family, nation, and spirit.

Yet Strahan’s words also reveal something deeper: that joy comes in traditions, even the lighthearted ones. To some, Thanksgiving is food. To others, it is parades. To many, it is football—the background rhythm of the day, the sound of whistles and cheers filling the air while kitchens bustle with preparations. These rituals, though different, share the same essence: they create a sense of belonging. Strahan speaks for millions who find in football not only excitement, but also a sense of continuity, a reminder that life’s blessings can be celebrated in many forms.

The lesson for future generations is clear: honor the traditions that bring people together, whether they are solemn or joyful, simple or grand. Do not despise the joy of sport on Thanksgiving, for it too carries meaning. It teaches teamwork, it creates fellowship, it sparks stories that will be told again at future tables. The key is not whether football is watched, but whether gratitude is kept at the heart of all things.

Practical action flows easily: when Thanksgiving comes, let the game play if it brings joy, but do not let it overshadow the feast of thanks. Watch together, cheer together, laugh together—but remember to pause, to break bread, to give thanks aloud. Teach your children that football is part of the day’s tradition, but that it is gratitude and love which give the day its soul.

Thus, Strahan’s words, though lighthearted, carry a truth worth passing on: Thanksgiving is not only about food and prayer, but about joy shared in every form. Football, for many, is one such joy—a ritual of unity and a celebration of life’s abundance. When the whistle blows and the game begins, it is not merely sport; it is part of the great song of Thanksgiving, a reminder that blessings are best enjoyed together.