I was young. It was the 70's. In a time of open marriages, I was following the Red Sox (home town team) and Astros (First game I ever saw on TV involved the Astros, and I stayed with them from then through the weird [and great!] uniforms to J.R. Richard [was the baseball equivalent to Tedy Bruschi with the stroke while still playing] through some of the Nolan Ryan era) in baseball, and the Patriots (home town team) and Oilers (from my first carnival prize which was a mirror with the Oilers Helmet on it through the Earl Campbell era) in football. Eventually, the Oilers, Astros and I parted on friendly terms, and my "big 4 sports" monogamy became total. I still feel the longings for those lost loves now and again, but now it's more of a saddened sympathy for the lost beauty that was a Richards/Ryan pitching gem or those ugly/beautiful uniforms, or an emotional pang of regret knowing that I'll never again see the Tyler Rose dragging half a defense down the field. I was always a one-team guy with basketball (Celtics) and hockey (Bruins), though.
I'm not proud of it all, and some today will judge those of us who lived back in those heady days of more forgiving relationships, but it was the times, and I refuse to be ashamed of my 'open' sports marriages. Damn it! I liked both Bjorg and McEnroe, too, and I refuse to believe that it was wrong...
I'm not ashamed!