First of all, let's talk about language. In the U.S. we refer to the red section of USA Today as sports, while the mother tongue refers to the back pages of the Daily Mail as sport. Same thing in translation from other languages. I can go either way, since the sports I like the most originated in other cultures, yet when faced with an alternate spelling (e.g. honour, centre, faeces) I'm one of the first to say, "She's not our queen, so don't expect us to speak her English." One of the many contradictions that makes me me. Call it a push.
As an athlete I was mediocre at best. I played baseball, floor hockey, soccer, flag football — what you'd expect, I suppose. Basketball conflicted with floor hockey, and swimming later on, so I never played that at an organized level. I just didn't have the hand-eye coordination to succeed at any of the ball sports, though had we not moved from the small town where I played soccer to a town that had no soccer I might have done something (maybe played in high school or at a small college) with that sport. Fortunately I discovered running and swimming fairly young, though not young enough to make myself a robot for those sports and excel enough to get to another level.
That said, I still run, bike, and swim, and I follow the other sports, probably to an extent bordering on obsession. Thus, the satellite dish on the roof over my apartment beams my teams into the TV — when they're on a network I get. More often than not, I'll piddle away an afternoon or an evening watching such contests, and sometimes even when I have no stake in the outcome; sometimes I just want to see a game.
So look at the list of teams I cheer for. You have a college team stocked with sociopaths and miscreants, a baseball team that hasn't won a World Series since the Teddy Roosevelt administration, a hockey team that has sold out every home game in its existence without having won squat, and a football team that has yet to make the playoffs in nine seasons of existence (despite playing in a league whose rules make it impossible to suck for very long). I can pick 'em, can't I?
It wears on a guy, seeing such incompetence year in and year out, especially when there are far more worthy things to which to devote one's time. I've always enjoyed the drama of sports, especially this time of year during the college tournament, and the esoteric aspects of an individual effort sometimes blow the mind. To truly appreciate what the human body is capable of, watch an NFL running back to run through a tackle; or an outfielder throw a ball 260 feet into the equivalent of a plastic grocery sack on one bounce; or a goalie bend himself like Gumby to keep a hard rubber disc out of the net; or a tennis player hit a tiny ball while on the fly, landing it on a postage-stamp-sized piece of ground. Or to see what a group of individuals can accomplish with a clear goal in mind, watch a college basketball team with no chance of victory send a group of future NBA players back home next weekend. What, you think Congress would be a better example here? I don't know what to tell you, then.
I learned early on that every contest has a winner and a loser, which is not always the case away from sports. In a world of gray it's kind of nice sometimes to have a black-or-white distinction to that. Granted, there are judgement calls by a supposedly objective observer every minute of every game, and sometimes those calls will determine the outcome. Ultimately the actual participants decide the issue, though, which, in the words of former NFL coach Herm Edwards, is the great thing about sports. All this leads to why I'm boycotting sports for the foreseeable future.
My teams don't win. Yeah, call me whatever you want for taking my damned ball and going home. Consider again at who I root for, and you can't blame me for being frustrated. If that makes me "not a true fan," as I've been told, fine. I can live with that.
During the offseason, after a 75-85 2010, the Cubs did fuck-all. They got rid of one mediocre pitcher (Tom Gorzelanny, 7-9, 4.09 ERA) to acquire another mediocre pitcher (Matt Garza, 15-10, 3.91). Otherwise, they made no changes. In the words of one Yahoo sports blogger, why fix a fourth-place, 75-win team if it ain't broke? More to the point, if the Cubs aren't trying to win a World Series, why do they bother taking the field? Wait, don't answer that. I will. During 20-odd years of Tribune ownership, Trib ran the Cubs like one of its newspapers — give the customers a shitty product, count the money, rinse, repeat. New ownership has shown me no evidence it plans to do anything differently. Make it 103 years since the last championship. I'm done.
March 1 marked the trade deadline in the NHL. Most teams sniffing the playoffs looked for that missing element, that one (or more) player that would push them into the realm of contenders. Not the Wild. (Insert Minnesooooota accent) Oh no, sixth place is just fine. Eight go to the playoffs, right? Well, the team looks good. Why change anything now? (End Minnesoooooota accent). You make a change because the team could be better. You make a change because sometimes it takes just a player or two to make a good team great. When five points separate places 4-11, a team needs whatever edge it can get, especially one with such a loyal and knowledgeable fan base. Leave it to the cheapskate ownership to accept the status quo, and that's not good enough given that two other recent expansion teams have won Stanley Cups in the Wild's 10 years of existence. I'm done.
In 2010, the Texans were a trendy pick to win the AFC South and make their first playoff appearance, and why not? The Titans and Jaguars were down, and the Colts were racked with injuries. Nonetheless, the Colts found a running back, the Jags got lucky, the Titans did whatever they did, and the Texans choked. There's no other way to describe a season in which a team loses FIVE games on either the last play or opponents' last drive of the game. So what changes so far? Replaced the defensive coordinator. OK. Coach remains on staff. Isn't a team's performance in crunch time a reflection of the coach? The draft takes place in about five weeks but I'm not hopeful. Yet another franchise content with mediocrity in the name of a profit, which is inexcusable with the way the NFL sets up its rules for player acquisitions; the difference between 6-10 and a high draft pick and 10-6 and the playoffs (aside from four wins, smartasses) is minuscule. The Texans are the only team in the league to not make the playoffs in their nine years of existence. I'm done.
In the case of college teams, the point there is to give people a chance to further their educations while also competing for the glory of old SU. Er, something. I can't type that without wanting to barf given some of the winners who have suited up for my alma mater over the years. College sports is a cesspool of corruption, period. The news out of Ohio State this week should put to rest any questions about the motivation of college sports executives. And that's what the bureaucrats are — executives. They have as much to do with the educational component of colleges as the custodians in the classroom buildings. They have as much desire to see their charges earn degrees as they do to lose money. My alma mater's one championship in men's basketball came courtesy of a mercenary player who in one year might have spent less time in Bird Library than I did s a freshman. Part of me was happy with the result in 2003, especially since donations to the general fund surged, and applications for admission went through the roof; seriously, that's what good sports teams can do for a university. But what's the cost? Too few people are willing to examine that. I'm... sigh... done.
While in Tucson last month a friend laughed at my goal to ween myself off sports. "It's too much a part of who you are," she said. "It'll never happen." I suppose I can appreciate a good game every now and then. Last year's World Cup was thrilling, and next year's an Olympic year I'll deal with in due time, but my days of rearranging social and meal plans, fussing with my workout schedule, to accommodate games are over. I feel like I need to grow up or something, stop reading the sports page first, give up the satellite dish since all I watch is live sports (and the occasional movie on IFC). Don't get me wrong, I won't buy a house or get married or anything like that, but it's time to let this go.
Finally, I'm done.
