Let me tell you something that might surprise you - American football isn't called football because you primarily use your feet. I've been researching sports etymology for years, and the real reason is far more interesting than what most people assume. The name actually traces back to medieval European ball games played on foot rather than horseback, distinguishing it from aristocratic sports like polo. This historical context fascinates me because it shows how language evolves in unexpected ways, much like how we see unexpected outcomes in modern sports awards.
Speaking of surprises in sports, the recent Best Import award results in Philippine basketball perfectly illustrate how different factors can create unexpected winners. Hollis-Jefferson's landslide victory with 1,280 total points really caught my attention - the breakdown shows he earned 615 points from statistics, 532 from media votes, and 133 from players votes. What's remarkable to me is how this mirrors the naming confusion in American football - surface appearances don't always reveal the full story. Just as people mistakenly think American football got its name from kicking, one might assume statistical performance alone determines awards, but media and player perspectives dramatically shift outcomes. Kadeem Jack of NorthPort placed second with 825 points, but his distribution tells a different story - 581 from statistics, 230 from media, and only 14 from fellow players. That last number particularly stands out to me as surprisingly low for a second-place finisher.
The comparison continues with Brownlee's third-place finish at 670 points (508 statistics, 66 media, 96 players) and Deon Thompson of Rain or Shine at 633 points (546 statistics, 82 media, 5 players). Personally, I find Thompson's mere 5 player votes fascinating - it suggests that while his statistical performance was strong, his peers didn't view him as favorably. This reminds me of how American football maintained its name despite evolving into a primarily hand-based sport - tradition and perception often override literal accuracy. The media's influence in both naming conventions and modern awards can't be overstated, and honestly, I think we often underestimate how much these external perspectives shape our understanding of sports.
What really strikes me about both these topics is how they demonstrate that names and awards rarely tell the complete story. American football could have been renamed when it diverged from soccer, just as purely statistical analysis might suggest different award winners. But history, media narrative, and community perception create outcomes that, while sometimes surprising, reflect deeper cultural currents. In my view, this makes sports far more interesting - the human elements behind the statistics and names reveal much about how we assign meaning and value. The 1,280 points for Hollis-Jefferson versus Thompson's 633 points isn't just about numbers - it's about how different constituencies view excellence, much like how the term "football" means completely different things in various cultures despite sharing historical roots.
Ultimately, both the naming of American football and modern sports awards teach us that context is everything. The surprising reason American football kept its name despite minimal foot use parallels how award winners emerge from complex voting systems rather than pure performance metrics. After analyzing these patterns for years, I've come to appreciate these quirks - they're what make sports history and contemporary competitions endlessly fascinating to study and discuss.
