The beauty of football isn't the electric atmosphere on game days, the testosterone-packed violence or the excitement of watching a big play unfold.
It's not the final result on the scoreboard or the win-loss record at the end of a season. Titles are great, but there's something more than a championship that makes America's game beautiful.
The thing that creates a burning passion for this game is brotherhood, a fraternal bond between players that observes no boundaries. That bond surfaced as Ball State receiver Dante Love was carted off the football field Saturday.
His teammates sprinted to the 35-yard line and knelt in a collective prayer. Most of Indiana's players did the same on their sideline. At that moment, it didn't matter whether a player was wearing the road-white or the crimson-home uniforms. The loyalties fans in the stadium held were insignificant. No one cared that the two teams were separated by a point on the scoreboard.
Everyone in Memorial Stadium simply stared at No. 86, begging for a sign that he was OK.
Maybe a wave. Perhaps a thumbs up. It never came.
We know now that Love suffered a cervical spine fracture. We thank God the senior has movement in all four limbs and is expected to live a normal life after rehabilitation. But we understand one play ended his football career.
There's no doubt it was a clean hit from Indiana cornerback Chris Adkins. Anyone who says otherwise either hasn't seen a replay, has horrible eye sight or is ignorant regarding the game of football and shouldn't be sharing their opinions on the sport.
There was no helmet-to-helmet contact. Adkins put his head on the ball, which forced Love to fumble.
There was no horse collar penalty on the play. The Hoosiers' defender only grabbed Love's jersey. He never got a grasp on his shoulder pads.
The reality is Love's chance to fulfill his dream of playing in the NFL was stripped away on a hit he took hundreds of times.
The rest of Saturday's game feels like a blur to those who watched it. I have friends who have told me they were barely aware of the game because their thoughts were on a player who lay in a hospital bed an hour away. The players looked lost - and for good reason - when they walked into the press room after the game.
It seems only a moment like that can put football - or sports in general - into perspective. Fans and media members alike spend most of their time thinking about the player and not the person under the pads.
Less than two hours before Love's career ended, police cited or arrested 81 people after melee that broke out between "four- or five-thousand" Ball State and Indiana fans. The fight took 18 police officers to quell.
If the brawl seemed stupid at the start of Saturday's game, it made even less sense as Love lie on the field turf, his chance to walk again hanging in the balance.
Forget sportsmanship. I don't care if alcohol was involved. The fight failed every test for common sense and decency.
Unfortunately, sports brawls are all too common. YouTube has made them as famous as they are infamous.
I understand why this happens. Sports fans will always be passionate about the teams and player they follow. And they should be.
That doesn't mean it's not a shame it takes the sight of Love laying motionless on a football field to remind us football is just a game.
Write to Ryan at rtwood@bsu.edu