An Ode to Sports' Ephemeral Joys
Sports serve as both an escape from—and a microcosm of—the lives we live.
Good luck telling the crying Cowboys fan that “it’s just a game”, or getting the bar packed with Lakers supporters to quiet their screams after a particularly nasty LeBron James dunk because it “doesn’t really matter who wins in the end.” Something that triggers the type of emotional turbulence you’ll witness in the three-hour stretch of a sports fan’s life can’t so easily be dismissed as mere bread and circuses.
When we put our arms around those of total strangers to join in a unified chant, the echoes bouncing off stadium walls like ping pong balls in the NBA draft lottery machine, it’s evident that sports serve a purpose fundamentally deeper than simply curing us of boredom on a Sunday afternoon.
But it’s been about two months since we’ve experienced sports in the way we’ve grown accustomed to over all these years. As the world battles a pandemic, we’ve been relegated to scheming up ways we can usher back a bastardized version of them while dreaming of better days. In that time, we’ve heard countless people wax poetic about the ways in which sports soothe our sullen souls.
Sometimes, dammit, you just want the over to hit.
We often fail to celebrate the more ephemeral moments that don’t quite equate with the feeling of a game-winning, 70-yard drive. These vivid vignettes offer an extended look into why being a sports fan is worth more than a stadium beer.
I particularly miss:
Staying up past 1 a.m. ET on a Saturday night to chase a Pac-12 winner after a day of absolutely brutal college football betting. Bonus points if you’ve tweeted about the experience ad nauseam throughout the day. Lay the points and pray to the (Arizona State Sun) Devil.
Making an honest-to-God “stadium friend”, whose name you will immediately forget after drink No. 2, but whose bond will prevail time immemorial. This person might have been convicted of manslaughter in 1992, but he completely agreed that they should have run the ball in that situation so now you’re blood brothers for life. You might even have to help him bury the next body, if there was ever a chance you’d see him again in real life. You won’t.
Sneaking a flask into a high-security stadium successfully. The elation you get after this experience beats that of a second child’s birth, from what I’ve been told. You not only outsmarted Barney Fife and his crew, but you got it past the metal detector obstacle and all. Don’t worry—nobody plans to ask which dark bodily crevice you hid it in. Eat shit, James Bond.
Catching the first glimpse of verdant grass as you step inside a stadium. If you ever stop getting butterflies from this, just know the fire is gone for good. I got goosebumps seeing the stadium grass from the tunnel of the XFL game I went to in January, and it wasn’t just because I pregamed like it was an XFL game.
Pregaming like it’s an XFL game.
Flipping the channel to a random baseball matchup and immediately seeing a home run. That was because of you! (and something called launch angle.)
Walking headstrong across a college campus as the university band blasts brassy notes across a manicured lawn. It’s like being in a movie inside your own head. You might even think you look cool as you slip on your designer sunglasses. You don’t.
Predicting a play out loud before it happens. Then, brimming with confidence and maybe a little liquid courage, firing off another prediction three plays later with the conviction of a Baptist preacher. It was a pass to the tight end! Time creeps to a halt as you survey the incredulous praise and approving nods of friends and family. You are a golden god.
Finding someone wearing your favorite team’s apparel in the wild and doing the only thing a sane person would do in this situation: hollering the team’s motto at them for confirmation that they aren’t a poseur.
Hearing the theme music for the first time all year. Which theme music, you ask? Take your pick: the delicate notes of The Masters jingle, the authoritative melody of FOX’s NFL song, the comforting opening lyrics to David Barrett’s “One Shining Moment” as college basketball highlights dance on the screen—all these and more. You’ll find yourself temporarily hypnotized in front your TV, and more than a little embarrassed at how emotional you just got.
Screaming at a referee like he murdered your grandma while realizing that murdering your grandma would have been a less egregious act than that call. It’s cathartic in a way therapy struggles to match.
Seeing an opening for a bathroom break early in the game and hustling to make sure you don’t miss any action, while also ensuring you don’t have to wait in line to go at halftime like the schmucks who haven’t notice how long the TV timeouts have been.
Heading into Monday Night Football with a 6-point fantasy football lead and Patrick Mahomes left to play.
Taking the perfect golf nap, which lasts exactly 47 minutes and seamlessly ends as the contenders tee off on 17.
Postgaming like it’s an XFL game.
These are but a few of the innumerable smaller joys that sports provides its ardent worshipers. You’re likely thinking of your own special moments from years past now.
We might not know when, but sporting events as we once knew them will eventually come back in all their splendid glory. And when the day finally comes, it will feel just as good as rounding the corner inside a stadium and seeing that viridescent sliver of grass for the first time.
Who knows?
You might not even have to stay up for the Pac-12 game that night.