Football. Baseball. Hockey. Basketball. Soccer. Tennis. I really couldn't care less. I never understood people's fascination with sports. Sure, it's one thing to participate, but it's something completely different to act as a spectator. And yet, millions are psyched about each sports season as it comes, rooting for their favorite teams, wearing the jerseys, going to the games. To me, it's a complete waste of time.
It's not that I don't understand the rules of each game. There's a big difference between not understanding and not caring. Still, complete strangers will strike up conversations, as easily as they would to talk about the weather. It's easy to talk about the heat, the cold, the rain, or whatever. Everyone experiences it. But to talk about who won the game last night or how close it was, is just beyond me. I simply answer with a polite, "I don't know". I try not to be flippant about it, but I really just don't care.
I've only been to two baseball games in my entire life. From what I understand, tickets are still relatively inexpensive, but I'd rather spend my money on a movie, or a giant chocolate bar, or a pedicure. Sports have never interested me. Sometimes I feel like an oddity, someone who could have traveled with the circus back in the day. They'd charge a couple coins for the people to see me. They'd gawk and ogle and throw trash at me. I'm a cultural abomination.
But really, who's the oddity here? People who pay exorbitant amounts of money for the "experience" of seeing a game in person, watching and waiting for their team to score a winning point? Some hardcore fans actually paint their faces with their team's colors so everyone knows who they support. Others aren't as obnoxious with their love of the game. Instead, they prefer to wear expensive jerseys with the name and number of their favorite player plastered on the back. They like to worship their athletic icons. And I'm the oddity?
And how does a person decide which team to root for? Is it wise to always support the home team, or choose a random team because their colors coordinate with your handbag? People actually get into arguments and segregate themselves like they're part of some kind of political campaign. Always us and them. But they love it.
As we approach another football season, my news wall is becoming inundated with posts from friends who talk about their excitement. They can barely contain themselves. And it seems everyone comments.
"Oh yeah, can't hardly believe it. I'm gonna go to the game topless with my boobs painted so everyone knows who I root for."
"Shoot, girl, all I have is a jersey with my fav player's name in huge letters on the back. Your boob idea is so much better."
"Dude, I'm totally going. Boobs, beer, and pigskin!"
Everyone seems to know the names of the players. Who's good. Who's new. Who was traded. What their best score was. It's like complex characters in some movie or soap opera. And most of the world is hooked. They love the drama of the game. The edge of the seat moments that get their adrenaline running. The beer flows, the nachos and hotdogs come around, and the spectacle unfolds on the field.
Sports make no sense to me. A football game is comprised of four quarters. Supposedly, each of these quarters is fifteen minutes long. I'm pretty good at math. This equation should equal 60 minutes, an hour. Yet, in the history of everything I've grudgingly known about the sport, no football game has lasted a mere hour. Not even close. Overtime, again. Heck, this country takes the sport so seriously, the evening news is pushed back in light of men in uniform tousling of some bizarrely-shaped ball.
When I was in high school, I was forced to play softball. I always envied the girls because they didn't have to shower if they were on their period. They didn't have to show proof, they could just sit out. No need for a shower, or to get changed in the locker room. Girls had it easy. I, on the other hand, dreaded P.E. I was not athletically inclined in the slightest.
Every time Ian was up to bat, the basemen would take fifteen steps forward. And that was only banking on the very idea that the bat would make contact with the ball. My coordination was horrendous. Once, I was completely mortified when the pitcher, our Phys. Ed. teacher, purposefully tossed the ball way up over my head. He did this a number of times so I had to "walk" to first base. The team in the outfield laughed and jeered at me. It was the most horrifying moment of my sports career.
Perhaps my past makes me loathe the game, any game. But when I sit back and think of how addicted people are for sports and how they live for their favorite seasons, I realize it's not me so much as it is our popular culture. Our world has cultivated multi-million dollar sport franchises with players who make just as much money. Players are nothing more than entertainers who enjoy putting on a show for their devoted fans. If that's the case, actors and singers are my favorite players. But you won't see me wearing grease paint on my face because I'm going to see the latest Annette Bening film.
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