My brother and his old college roommate are best buds. His roommate lives in San Diego and is a life long SD fan. Every week, they would exchange emails in regards to the upcoming games or their prospective from the other side of the country. Here is what my brother, the Pats fan, wrote to his friend in an email tonight (he forwarded it to me)...calmed me just a little bit...
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I haven't been able to speak logically about this weekend's football games yet. I've refused talk radio, newspapers, espn.com, and espn altogether. I saw a picture of Peyton Manning on Foxnews.com and seriously contemplated throwing my bottled water at the chalkboard directly in front of me. Every time I think I have a logical analysis, my brain refuses to cooperate with my mouth and something that sounds like goats attempting to communicate comes out. BAHHH!
What is it about sports that makes us care so much? Why didn't I sleep last night even though I was out until four o'clock each of the last two evenings? Why should I possibly be upset over the fact my favorite football team lost? Shouldn't I just move on? Shouldn't I be more concerned with Nancy Pelosi's evil plan to ruin America? Shouldn't I be losing sleep over more important things like why aren't my students passing my class and why aren't the same students taking their schooling seriously?
Richard Seymour is making $4.5 million this year. Mike Vrabel is making $6.8 million. Eric Warfield made $2 million this year and he was cut a long time ago. And don't get me started on Tom Brady who is making $15 million and dating probably the hottest girl in the world. I'm living at home, making $37,000 as an english teacher. Why do we care?
Sure, I know these players are the most competitive human beings on the face of the Earth. Winning and losing is basically their job. They care. And no one can convince me otherwise. They are upset that they lost.
But why should I be? Do they lose sleep when the 17-year old freshman failed for the year already? Do they care that Sallie Mae pretty much rapes me every month? The answer is no.
The bottom line, I guess, is that sports unify people. In times of national and global turmoil, sports bring people together for a common bond, something to make us forget about the bills, the ills of the world, and the bad day we had at the office. They create a diversion so much so that once a person is committed, they're in for life. Save for a few years out of the many we have as sports fans, only a handful result in the uber-happiness that is a championship for our teams. In that regard, I've been lucky.
That point doesn't answer, though, why I haven't spoken very many positive words today, or that I can't shake the feeling that something horrible happened to me last night. When I had a particularly bad experience at the dentist one day, I went home and laid in my bed and slept because it was the only way I knew to escape the pain of what just happened to me. What did I do today after work? I came home and slept on my couch because I didn't want to go on the internet to read articles on espn.com, I didn't want to watch Pardon the Interruption, and I didn't want to reconnect with my friend Eric who called me for the first time in a while. I wanted to sleep and forget what happened. I feel like the victim of an awful crime. I haven't diagnosed coherently what transpired towards the outcome of the game last night other than the fact I don't want to watch the Super Bowl.
Irrational? Yes. That's how I feel right now, though. I feel like an irrational sports fan and the gratification of being upset and angry will happen tonight when I morbidly root for Jack Bauer to kill the first terrorist that messes with him.
Sigh.
I think I'm going to go play with my new ipod.
(Yes, because I bought one today to divert myself from everything.)
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I haven't been able to speak logically about this weekend's football games yet. I've refused talk radio, newspapers, espn.com, and espn altogether. I saw a picture of Peyton Manning on Foxnews.com and seriously contemplated throwing my bottled water at the chalkboard directly in front of me. Every time I think I have a logical analysis, my brain refuses to cooperate with my mouth and something that sounds like goats attempting to communicate comes out. BAHHH!
What is it about sports that makes us care so much? Why didn't I sleep last night even though I was out until four o'clock each of the last two evenings? Why should I possibly be upset over the fact my favorite football team lost? Shouldn't I just move on? Shouldn't I be more concerned with Nancy Pelosi's evil plan to ruin America? Shouldn't I be losing sleep over more important things like why aren't my students passing my class and why aren't the same students taking their schooling seriously?
Richard Seymour is making $4.5 million this year. Mike Vrabel is making $6.8 million. Eric Warfield made $2 million this year and he was cut a long time ago. And don't get me started on Tom Brady who is making $15 million and dating probably the hottest girl in the world. I'm living at home, making $37,000 as an english teacher. Why do we care?
Sure, I know these players are the most competitive human beings on the face of the Earth. Winning and losing is basically their job. They care. And no one can convince me otherwise. They are upset that they lost.
But why should I be? Do they lose sleep when the 17-year old freshman failed for the year already? Do they care that Sallie Mae pretty much rapes me every month? The answer is no.
The bottom line, I guess, is that sports unify people. In times of national and global turmoil, sports bring people together for a common bond, something to make us forget about the bills, the ills of the world, and the bad day we had at the office. They create a diversion so much so that once a person is committed, they're in for life. Save for a few years out of the many we have as sports fans, only a handful result in the uber-happiness that is a championship for our teams. In that regard, I've been lucky.
That point doesn't answer, though, why I haven't spoken very many positive words today, or that I can't shake the feeling that something horrible happened to me last night. When I had a particularly bad experience at the dentist one day, I went home and laid in my bed and slept because it was the only way I knew to escape the pain of what just happened to me. What did I do today after work? I came home and slept on my couch because I didn't want to go on the internet to read articles on espn.com, I didn't want to watch Pardon the Interruption, and I didn't want to reconnect with my friend Eric who called me for the first time in a while. I wanted to sleep and forget what happened. I feel like the victim of an awful crime. I haven't diagnosed coherently what transpired towards the outcome of the game last night other than the fact I don't want to watch the Super Bowl.
Irrational? Yes. That's how I feel right now, though. I feel like an irrational sports fan and the gratification of being upset and angry will happen tonight when I morbidly root for Jack Bauer to kill the first terrorist that messes with him.
Sigh.
I think I'm going to go play with my new ipod.
(Yes, because I bought one today to divert myself from everything.)