I have decided to stop focusing on myself, and to redirect my energy and angst toward the greater good.
As a rule, I don’t like spectator sports. I find sports annoying. That may have something to do with the fact that I hail from Chicago. Chicago sports fans as a rule are disappointed.
There is enough to disappoint in real life, I don’t need to invest any time in watching adults who make too much money play games.
Oh, I remember the Bears of the 1985 Super Bowl, and the Michael Jordan Bulls era, that was kind of fun. I know the whole hockey thing is big now, and I just can’t care. The Cubs and Sox rivalry; wake me when it’s over.
My children were all swimmers. I loved to watch them swim, but the meets went for many hours, and the events I was interested in took minutes. (I volunteered to occupy myself)
Track is much more confusing to me. I’d attend these meets, try in vain to ascertain where my child was and what events he was in. These constant failed attempts to locate him in a sea of blue and white uniforms often left me panicked stricken. I imagined my son talking to his future therapist: “My mom didn’t love me, she never saw me run.”
The last meet of this years season started as all the others had. I looked for my son, started taking pictures randomly, and hoped for the best. This has never turned out for the best. These kids seriously all look the same from this distance, boys and girls of all shapes sizes, colors, THEY ALL LOOK THE SAME FROM WHERE I STAND.
I tried to decipher the code of the heat sheet as my first clue, still taking pictures (of other parents children).
An hour into my arrival and inept photography, I stood against the rail and waited for the start of the event which I’d decided my son was in. I felt a tap on my shoulder. My son. Even though I was there, actively looking for him the entire time, I had missed his events. He was ready to leave. We headed back to my car which now had it’s first dent. Thanks to all you door dinkers out there.
Little league baseball can feel like watching paint dry. My son this week had a game which went into extra innings. It went so late, that the sun set on their game. On a field with no lights, the game had to end. The coaches declared a tie and ended the game/torture. Next day however the team was informed that the league does not recognize ties, and the game would continue with another inning. One inning. The best idea ever!! That was the perfect length of time for any sporting event.
Finally, as advertised, my plans for the greater good: LET’S CUT THE LENGTH OF ALL SPORTING EVENTS! Baseball, one inning. Football, one quarter. Basketball, ten minutes. Hockey, let’s just do the fights. It works for me.