Thoughts on Sports

As far as I can remember, my infatuation with sports began when I was about eight years old. That was when my grandfather introduced me to football. He would spend hours watching games in his recliner, and I could not understand his fascination with them although even then I knew I enjoyed being physically active and also loved the energy of attending high school football games in person as I did with my grandparents on many Friday nights although I did not understand the rules of the game in those days.

But one day, my grandfather sat me down with him and explained what was happening in a game on television as we went along. As I came to understand the game, I came to love it as well. I remember the first football game I actually watched on television and understood. The game was between the Atlanta Falcons and the Miami Dolphins in 1980. I remember the Falcons narrowly losing that game, but they went on to have an outstanding season, and I watched every game faithfully. Faithfully is actually the wrong word to describe how I watched football games that year. To say I watched them passionately is more accurate. I went online to review the scores of the games that season and was amazed that I could specifically remember watching many of them twenty-nine years later. I was heartbroken when the Falcons were beaten in the first round of the playoffs that year in a barnburner of a game with the Dallas Cowboys. I remember Cowboys’ wide receiver Drew Pearson catching the winning touchdown from quarterback Danny White in the waning minutes of the game and bursting into tears to see my Falcons lose. But many of the names of the Falcons players that year are permanently imbedded in my memory: quarterback Steve Bartkowski, star running back William Andrews, short yardage specialist Lynn Cain, the veteran center with missing front teeth Jeff Van Note, star offensive tackle Mike Kenn, wide receiver Alfred Jenkins, two outstanding rookie linebackers Al Richardson and Buddy Curry, Coach Leeman Bennett and even their kicker Tim Mazzetti and punter John James come immediately to mind as I’m writing this.

I also became a Georgia Bulldogs fan that season. By a spectacularly happy accident, that was the year they went undefeated and won the national championship behind the running of a spectacular Freshman named Hershel Walker. The single play that probably cemented my love of sports forever occurred that year when the Bulldogs played the Florida Gators and were behind by the score of 21-20 with less than two minutes remaining in the game with the Bulldogs backed up on their own nine yard line. Any Bulldog fan old enough to remember that play probably remembers exactly where they were when it happened. Georgia quarterback Buck Belue threw a short pass to wide receiver Lindsay Scott who promptly ran 91 yards for a touchdown. Legendary Dawg announcer Larry Munson became so excited that he broke his chair and declared “there’s going to be some property destroyed tonight.” The play, which sent me into a state of ecstatic joy that day, is now one of the most classic in Bulldog history. The Bulldogs completed the season with a 17-10 victory over Notre Dame in the Sugar Bowl and Hershel Walker went on to have one of the greatest college football careers of any player ever.

After the football season ended, baseball came around and I became just as passionate about the Atlanta Braves. I collected baseball cards fanatically and learned the meanings of every baseball statistic. The Braves were a sub-par team, but I still remember many of the players during that golden year for me. Bruce Benedict played catcher. First Base was manned by Chris Chambliss, second by Glenn Hubbard. Rafael Ramirez played shortstop, Bob Horner was at third. Claudell Washington roamed leftfield while right field was manned by various players including Brian Asselstine, Rufino Linares, and Terry Harper. The star of the team in those days, Dale Murphy played center and the team was managed by the now legendary Bobby Cox. The pitching staff featured Rick Mahler, Phil “Knuxie” Niekro, and Gaylord Perry as starters while Steve Bedrosian, Gene Garber and the mad Hungarian, Al Hrabosky made up the bulk of the bullpen.

Watching sports and rooting for my favorite teams is still something I enjoy tremendously, but it doesn’t match the wonder and intensity I had as a child when every game seemed like the most important thing in the world. These days I have a much more cynical view of professional and big time college athletics and marvel at the over-emphasis it seems to occupy in our society with the tremendous amount of money involved and the attitude of entitlement that so many athletes seem to have. But when I’m caught up in the midst of a game, these thoughts go out the window.

I was around the same age when my enjoyment of watching sports also translated into wanting to compete in them. I have to believe that my love of sports had to have truly come from within myself because no one else in my immediate family seems to share this interest. Unlike many other dads, my dad had very little interest in helping me become a star athlete. I only remember him playing catch with me on rare occasions. My mother had no special interest in sports either and though my grandfather enjoyed watching sports, he considered them strictly a spectator activity and even offered me a hundred dollars one year not to pay football, an offer I declined. I had big dreams when it came to athletics and played them as passionately as I watched them. But for me there was always a disconnect between my desire to excel in sports and my personality. I have always been a very introverted kind of guy and because of that, I found the environment surrounding organized sports to be intimidating. In high school, I was really an outstanding basketball player, but in many games, my stage fright from playing in front of large crowds compromised my talents. Although I did play some good games my senior year and made all region, I did not perform as well as I could have simply because I tightened up so much in games.

My shyness affected me in football too, at least in my senior year. I’m not exactly sure what happened that year. I played on an outstanding team that lost the state championship in overtime by the narrowest of margins and I started at defensive end for that team. But I did not play at the level in my senior year as I did in the years before. I often had the feeling I was faking it that year. I didn’t care for the hoo-ra aspect of the sport and felt like a bit of a misfit because of it. I didn’t feel much in common with the other guys on my team who were a loud and boisterous group for the most part. I also felt at a loss to be the vocal leader that I thought my coaches wanted me to be. I often wonder if I had played that year with the same unbridled enthusiasm I had in years’ past if it would have made the difference in my team winning the state championship.

The one sport where I came closest to performing to my potential was track. I ran the mile and the 800 meters for my school, and rarely had any competition in either event until the state meet. I ran mostly against my own standards, and felt that it was my entirely my world. I had no coaching to speak of, but designed a makeshift interval-training program of my own. I ran as hard as I could every time I practiced, and felt like a failure if my time didn’t improve every time I raced. From a psychological standpoint, it’s easy for me to understand why I excelled at track more than team sports. In track, I didn’t have to worry about getting nervous because of a crowd or showing the proper amount of enthusiasm and leadership. All I had to do was go out and run by myself on my own terms.

Ironically, the only thing that held me back from real accomplishments in running track was a lack of competition and an absence of coaching. Apparently, the private schools in North Georgia put a greater emphasis on track than the ones in my region because in spite of completely dominating the competition in my own region, I only managed to finish 3rd in the state meet although I beat my personal best by seven seconds. My best finish at state was fourth in the 800 in spite of also running my personal best in that race. I feel that if I’d had any competition in my own region and had received some real coaching, I could have earned a scholarship. Having said that, the fact that I was able to win so consistently and practice exactly how I wanted was what made running track enjoyable to me.

These days, at the ripe old age of 37, staying in shape is still important to me although I’ve packed on some pounds in recent years. I still love to watch sports and compete in them when I get the chance. But at times, I engage in a kind of existential debate with myself about why sports or participating in physical competition really matter. If all professional and big time college sports were to disappear from the face of the Earth tomorrow, would it really cause a detrimental effect to society? If Georgia beats Florida or vice-versa, is it really of any consequence? So many people pour their hearts and souls into these games while their comparative importance seems trivial. What if people put forth the same amount of energy into making the world a better place rather than competing in games? Isn’t there something sad about someone who measures a part of their self-worth by how well a team they’re following does in a sports game when, in reality, that sports team’s performance has no actual bearing on anything in that person’s daily life?

On the other hand, perhaps a society’s interest in sports says something about the vitality of that society. Would a society that showed no interest in sports be the equivalent of a child who showed no interest in playing? Maybe sports serve as sort of metaphor for the human condition, and maybe our interest in them stems from something ingrained in our DNA from our evolutionary past. I know that my interest in them seems to come from a very basic, primal place. I’m drawn to it like a moth to a flame in spite of any existential philosophizing I might engage in. I think it comes down to a matter of perspective. Sports are a healthy distraction from the harsher realities of life and a way to keep in touch with our physical selves in an age when we seem to be becoming a society of all brain and no brawn. Keeping it in its proper place is simply a matter of perspective. Few things inspire as much enthusiasm and energy in me as following and participating in sports does. It seems to be a part of how I’m wired as a person. At the same time, I’ve broadened my interests considerably as I’ve gotten older and my life no longer centers around athletics as it once did. Still, I always find it comforting to return to, and will probably love sports my entire life. There is something soothing about following sports to me. After a tough day, it’s always nice to come home and turn on Sports Center or whatever game might be playing. It always feels a little like coming home.