Unlike many red-blooded American males, I did not grow up with a great love of, or much participation in, team sports. I don't know if I was genetically encoded that way, or if years of being picked last--and sucking--at every sport I tried just embittered me to the whole process. But whatever the cause, I ultimately just opted out of the whole dang thing, not only not following any sport at all, but also having no idea what anyone was ever talking about when the inevitable "Did you see the game?" talk would come up. Not only did I not, in fact, see the game, but I had no clue which game or which sport they were even talking about. Nor did I care. I had my Lord of the Rings books and my Mad magazines and my Elvis Costello records, so you could take your damn sports and kiss my pale, bony behind.
With age, however, I have learned to appreciate sports for what it is: a brilliantly frivolous, publically-sanctioned waste of time, in which one can lose oneself and totally avoid all reality and responsibility and life priorities. This is something I can get behind.
Looking back on life post-college, I can recognize an interesting pattern: the more I hated my job and/or my life, the more I began to follow a basketball or baseball or football team. At the nadir of my professional career, for example, when I was a computer book editor with a sad, vicious Boss From Hell (who eventually fired me, and yeah, I'm still bitter), I became an avid Warriors fan.
All of which is to say, I still go in and out of caring about sports. Right now, with the big E3 convention coming up and stressing me out, I have suddenly noticed that it's baseball season again.
So yesterday I took my 9-year-old daughter to the A's-Indians game at the Oakland Coliseum, and it was a blast. I forgot how much fun going to a ballpark during the day can be. Especially with the whole beer/peanuts/hot dog/cotton candy thing going on. Now they even sell Krispy Kremes, which makes me wonder if I should just go ahead and invest in season tickets.
It was fun sitting there with a kid, explaining the rules, watching her get into it. I'm glad, I have to admit (and I apologize in advance if this sounds sexist but if it is then you may bite me) that I have a daughter, because the pressure has really been off me, either to indoctrinate her into the sporting life or have to pretend like I know diddly squat or even know how to throw a football.
But the game, which we won 6-3, was lots of fun, and made me think I need to do this more with her. The sun felt good. The beer felt better. I hate people as a general rule, but it was fun, at least yesterday, to be part of the screaming rabble, to cheer the dot racers on and eat my junk food and get out of my stupid head for a change.
We're 14-10 now. One game behind Seattle. Maybe I won't give a darn a week from now again, but for now, I say: go A's!
Posted by jeff at April 27, 2003 2:14 PM