AP Photo

We are now getting a sense of what we were watching for decades when the broadcasters gave pro football the old biff-bam-pow seal of approval.

We were watching people be maimed. For our enjoyment. It was a good deal all around. They got paid. We howled at the screen when their heads collided.

This is becoming apparent as one daughter of a former owner — it would be a daughter, wouldn’t it? — locates her old favorites from the down-and-out corners where football players go to hide, if not die.