Sports Build Warriors: Why Military Athletics Matter Now More Than Ever

When Minnesota Vikings running back Aaron Jones and Arizona Cardinals tight end Elijah Higgins stepped onto Ali Al Salem Air Base in Kuwait, they didn’t just bring football flair, they carried a legacy of service that hits harder than a fourth-quarter tackle. These NFL stars, sons of retired military heroes, joined a USO-sponsored visit to connect with the 386th Air Expeditionary Wing. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, beaming through a Pentagon video call on April 2, 2025, didn’t mince words: these troops, and the morale boosts they get, are the backbone of America’s deterrence. It’s a gritty reminder that our military’s strength isn’t just in weapons, it’s in the men and women who wield them.

This isn’t some feel-good photo op. Jones and Higgins embody a truth too many ignore: military families don’t just support the mission, they live it. Jones grew up with parents who clocked 27 and 29 years as Army sergeants major, while Higgins’ dad racked up 28 years in the Air Force, including three Afghanistan tours. Their visit isn’t charity, it’s a debt repaid to the troops who keep us free. Hegseth gets it, and he’s dead right to spotlight how football, a slice of home via the Armed Forces Network, keeps spirits high when the stakes are higher.

Let’s cut through the noise: a military without morale is a hollow shell. The USO, born in the crucible of World War II, has been proving this for decades with over 275 centers worldwide. Today, with suicide rates among active-duty troops outpacing civilians, these programs aren’t luxuries, they’re lifelines. From painting classes to yoga at places like the Warrior Center in Germany, the USO stitches together the emotional fabric of our forces. Jones and Higgins’ visit is a touchdown in that effort, showing troops they’re not forgotten, not just numbers on a roster.

Contrast that with the hand-wringing from budget hawks who’d rather slash defense spending than fund what works. They’ll cry fiscal responsibility while ignoring the trillion-dollar cost of a weakened military. History backs this up: in 1945, a million USO volunteers turned morale into a force multiplier, cutting vice and boosting focus. Today’s troops in Kuwait, as Hegseth said, are the tip of the spear. Starve them of support, and you dull that edge. It’s not rocket science, it’s reality.

Hegseth dropped a bombshell worth cheering: recruiting and retention are surging under President Trump’s watch. Last year, the Army nabbed 55,300 new soldiers, exceeding goals. That’s no accident, it’s leadership that values the warrior ethos over woke experiments. But here’s the glitch, nearly 25% of recruits since 2022 bolt within two years. Why? Some point to softer standards, waivers for shaky backgrounds, or prep courses that can’t fix deeper issues. Only 23% of young Americans even qualify to serve without help, thanks to obesity and apathy.

The fix isn’t more handouts, it’s doubling down on what troops crave: real training, decent pay, and quarters that don’t scream neglect. Hegseth’s push to axe pointless procedures and prioritize lethality is spot-on. Troops don’t want busywork, they want to be warriors. Critics who’d rather fund endless social programs than barracks repairs miss the point: a military that can’t keep its best is a military that can’t win.

Sports aren’t just games in the military, they’re the forge where resilience is hammered out. Jones and Higgins challenging troops to NFL-level drills isn’t fluff, it’s a nod to a tradition that’s shaped leaders from West Point to the World Military Games. General MacArthur knew it, pushing athletics to build courage and grit. Today, nations like Spain are reserving military slots for elite athletes, recognizing the overlap between sacrifice on the field and the battlefield. Our troops deserve that same investment.

Hegseth’s vision to rebuild deterrence hinges on this: a military that’s physically and mentally sharp doesn’t just deter, it dominates. Yet some in Washington would rather nickel-and-dime readiness than fund the Navy’s $4 billion shortfall or the Space Force’s $29.4 billion ask. That’s not prudence, it’s playing chicken with our security. Troops in Kuwait aren’t there to lose, and we can’t afford to let them down.

Behind every deployed soldier is a family feeling the weight. Jones recalled his parents’ Iraq tours, the moves, the uncertainty, it’s a kid’s life turned upside down. Spouses juggle everything alone, kids wrestle with anxiety, and reintegration’s no picnic either. Programs like ZERO TO THREE’s app or Military OneSource’s counseling help, but they’re bandaids on a system stretched thin. These families aren’t asking for pity, they’re earning respect through resilience.

Hegseth’s promise to see the world through the troops’ lens isn’t empty talk. It’s a pledge to honor those who raise their hands, and those who hold the fort at home. Detractors who’d cut benefits to balance books don’t get it: supporting families isn’t a cost, it’s an investment in the force that keeps us safe.

Here’s the bottom line: a strong military doesn’t just fight wars, it stops them. Hegseth’s focus on funding, systems, and a warrior ethos isn’t bravado, it’s strategy. Kuwait’s troops are living proof, projecting power that keeps foes at bay. The USO, sports, and family support aren’t sideshows, they’re the glue that holds this machine together. Ignore that, and you’re begging for trouble.

America’s not invincible by default, it’s earned through sweat, steel, and spirit. Jones and Higgins reminded us of that in Kuwait, and Hegseth’s fighting for it in Washington. We’ve got the chance to rebuild a military that doesn’t just react, but dictates terms. Let’s not fumble it with penny-pinching or misplaced priorities. Our troops, and our future, deserve the win.