I know why I am a sports fan. It’s so much more than the game. I love the game(s) but sports are such a magical thing that they can’t be classified as just a love of the competition. I love them because some of them are everything I am. Basketball is quick, impulsive, fast-paced (unless you’re Princeton or Nebraska, puking noise) every play is a risk. And they are also everything I am not. I am not a patient man but Soccer and Baseball are such patient games and they are the two sports for which I probably have the strongest affiliations. My love of the Red Sox and of Arsenal is well documented and so enraging because I devote all this time and almost always come away in agony. Whereas in basketball with the Jayhawks and the Celtics I’ve been rather lucky with my success and also have come to understand that losing doesn’t deny that you had a great season, with the Red Sox and Arsenal I all too often end each PAINSTAKINGLY long season ( Baseball- 162 Games, Soccer- August to May, between 1 and 3 games a week) with the disappointment of not having my patience rewarded. And then there is football, which is so strategic and explosive that it’s both me and not me at the same time. It’s so analytical but at the same time so unpredictable. But with this sport sadly I’ve become more than accustomed to losing, between the Vikigns (sans that one great year with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, cough-cough-Brett-Favre) and the Jayhawks, I am used to better teams running up the scores and me going across the street to get some more beer.
But I don’t just love sports for the way they are like me or unlike me but for what they do for me. They give me something to look forward to, to be interested in, to devote myself to. Something to be a part of and something to believe in. To believe that 11 men on a soccer field can bring you happiness with some tricky footwork and nice off-the-ball movement is such a powerful thing, because you are so tense and then the goal comes and you explode out of your chair and you are absolutely euphoric, probably a similar feeling to how my Dad felt at my birth. That kind of joy or sheer pain is not easily replicated. I can’t tell you how I responded when Mario Chalmers hit that shot to send the Jayhawks into overtime and on the 2008 championship. I can’t tell you how I felt with Aaron Boone hit the homer in 2003 and ended the Red Sox season so cruelly. It’s a supernatural experience, being in love with a team. Because it’s like a relationship. I’ve got to pay it enough attention so I know what is going on, I go up with it and down with it, I stay up late for it, I get up early for it (Arsenal play morning games in England, 6 am here, and yes, I get up). It’s love. They’ve enchanted me with their spirit. Teamwork and the beauty of the game. I can’t explain it in a way that a non-sports fan would understand. It’s just…. Love.
And I love sports for the stories. Triumph over all odds, the bond of men (and women, although, let’s face it, often to a lesser physical degree) in pursuit of a common goal, the resilience of someone beaten down and rising back up. How can you hear stories like that of Kevin Everett, who was paralyzed playing football for the Buffalo Bills and is now walking fully again with the support of the Bills behind him, and not feel good about humanity. Or of the Team Manager with Downs Syndrome at a high school in Long Island a few years ago, who was put in for the last 10 minutes of the last game of his senior season, for the first time ever…. And scored 28 points. It warms your heart. Stories like the ones Hollywood has made bank on that still get me every time I see them (Remember the Titans, Friday Night Lights, Hoosiers, Rudy, etc.) and also the ones they haven’t made bank on yet, like the ones shown on SportsCenter on a weekly basis that jerk tears out of anyone that watches them with me, even my totally sports illiterate roomies (artists. Pfff.).
I understand people disliking sports because players in the 8 major sports (Basketball, Baseball, Football, Soccer, Hockey, Golf, Tennis, and, I say this begrudgingly because I still think it ain’t a sport, NASCAR) could end so world hunger if they donated half of their salaries, but I can’t control that. And to be honest, my life would be less interesting and a lot less exciting if professional sports didn’t exist. No watch parties at bars, no communication with my old Frat brothers via Fantasy Football, no Super Bowl parties, no days during the Holidays where the family just sits together and watches football or basketball. And I would miss all of that. The excitement. The passion. The agony and ecstasy of the love for the game. That’s why I love sports. Because there is something positive for everyone. Because I need them.
