More than that, sports and their respective championships tend to fall fast and without anyone really paying much attention. Between the build up and the ensuing celebration, most wins are remembered by the fan bases of the winning and losing teams and the big fans of the sport, but even for them, the details get hazy.Case in point is my friendship with Frank the Tank and, more specifically, our divided rooting interests.
I honestly thought the world might end and that I'd never get over the White Sox winning it all in 2005 and that has faded to the rear view mirror in the grand scheme of things. Now, despite the championship gear floating around the city, my brother-in-law's closet and video evidence, it's not such a crushing blow anymore.
Of course, I fled Chicago immediately following the World Series that year, so my perspective might have been different watching the ensuing commercials for half price night at buffets in Alsip featuring second- and third-string infielders - "Baseball has been very good for me and my World Series teammates, just like the good folks at Arnie's All-You-Can-Eat rib shack, so come on down and strike out hunger..." - but it's not something that haunts me on a daily basis anymore.
On the flip side, the few times my teams have won were difficult to watch at times and were events in my life I thought I'd never top. I went to Lambeau Field following a Super Bowl win and a loss in the 90s and did my best to keep things to a dull roar when the Red Sox won in 2004.
As it stands this morning as I sit here with a cup of coffee on the couch, I don't get a larger tax refund for the Green Bay win, a free soda with a fill up at the gas station for any of the Bulls' championships or slid up higher on the waiting list at my favorite restaurants for following nearly every pitch of the Red Sox postseason in 2004.
In fact, without any major Yankee fans in my life, I'd say I'm getting less mileage off of all of those than I would normally. It's a shame really, the big payout for any sports fan should be the ride to the championship, but most of us are too nervous or critical to enjoy that part of it.
For the rest of the country, we wait for our teams to fall off and then try and pick a prohibitive favorite and a new version of "our" team. We can watch games start to finish without suffering from chest pains or anxiety-related fainting spells and actually enjoy games more than fans of the teams involved. The catch-22 is that the more exciting the game is with close scores, epic matchups and huge plays, the more excruciating it is to watch for the fans of the two teams who are actually playing - just ask Rams fans.
Once the final gun sounds, your Colts, Patriots or Bears fans grab the torch and celebrate like there's no tomorrow, but by then, everyone else is moving along. It's like showing up to a really great party late when things are starting to break up and people are heading for home.
I guess what I'm saying here is that the paradox for sports fans is that if your team is advancing, it's hard to enjoy that ride in the moment. Unless you have an absolute powerhouse like the '85 Bears or some of the great dynasties where a championship is a foregone conclusion, it's pretty difficult to focus on the moment and just go with the flow. Maybe that's why the championship videos sell so well - it lets you relive the games from a safe distance, knowing that your team is sitting at home with giant rings on, so you have nothing to fear.
So, as we grind through a Sunday without football before football goes away for a few months -sigh - I am pumped because at next week's Super Bowl, I know I'll be interested as a fan, but have the added bonus of not really caring who wins.
In fact, in situations like these where I really dislike both teams playing I get pretty deep into my Zen state and keep telling myself over and again - "One of these teams has to lose and I'm really going to enjoy what that does to their fans."
For the winner however - and yes, I do think that will be the pride and joy of Illinois - try not to get too bogged down in the hollering, nail-biting and "I just can't watch" aspects of the game. Regardless of the outcome, the sun will rise tomorrow and you will have to pay full price at the supermarket.
Unless of course you manage to blow the game on a fluke play. Then no one will ever let you forget the name Bill Buckner.
(Image from ProFootballHoF.com)
1 comment:
I've seen enough crappy play from my teams that I'm more than willing to deal with the tension of the postseason when they're finally involved.
I understand what you're saying about how it's tough to enjoy the ride in the middle of it, though. The only time where I was ever to be reflective was during the last two years of the Bulls dynasty, where there was a lot of focus of whether those seasons would be the last times that the guys on that team would be together. It was as if though we knew ahead of time that The Beatles would be breaking up for good soon, so we wanted to appreciate every moment.
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