Friday, October 28, 2011

A Real Sports Fan?

Today, the sports world (at least in the United States) sits riveted, awaiting that most cherished of sporting events, game 7 in a best of 7 series to determine the national (and/or world?) champions... in baseball.
I, however, am only mildly interested. Scandalous as it may be, I am not a huge fan of baseball. Yes, yes, I know. "As American as baseball and apple pie" is one of those phrases that demonstrates just how much of a national pastime baseball is. What's more American than playing some stickball on the sandlot? Or playing catch and pepper with some buddies and their well used, worn leather gloves? Most baseball fans I know have cherished memories of going to the ball park with their fathers, eating hot dogs and trying to catch a foul ball. The argument, furthered in this article, is that you aren't a real sports fan if you aren't into baseball.

The real problem is that I wasn't born a sports fan. I'm more of a convert, if you will. My father wasn't particularly into sports. Once in a great while, if a BYU football game was on TV late enough that he wasn't out working in the shop, he'd pull off his boots while sitting in the recliner, and catch the fourth quarter of the game, but it was only the slightest interest. We went to a few BYU basketball games, when one of his friends who had season tickets decided not to go and gave his tickets to Dad instead. For the most part, my Dad just wasn't a sports guy.

So how did I become a "convert"? I first discovered how much fun I could have watching sports when I was about 8 years old, and my sister became the point guard for her high school basketball team. My sister was a lethal point guard, grabbing steals, setting picks and shredding defenses. There was always something happening. A wonderful combination of team play and one on one battles. That was my first introduction into how much fun sports could be.

Next I was introduced properly to football. "You mean they are supposed to hit each other as hard as they can?" I thought in wonder. I became enamored of the explosive excitement of football games, where every play is a possible down the field breakthrough of epic proportions, running backs cutting left and right, avoiding maniac defenders, making it into the end zone in a burst of speed.

Then there's baseball. Three or four hours of game, with often just a few points scored by either team. Lots of time spent with a pitcher staring down at a batter. I didn't want an enjoyable afternoon at the park. I wanted to see points being scored. I wanted to see violent displays of aggression. To borrow from George Carlin:
"Baseball has the seventh inning stretch.
Football has the two minute warning."

Thus I have grown up without much appreciation of baseball, and am finding myself questioning: Am I a Real Sports Fan?