Wasted Weekend

I’m kind of a sucker for obscure sports. I don’t know why, I think it’s my desire to be an arrogant, know-it-all prick, but it could be something else. Doubtful though. There’s really only one reason to follow European soccer, and it’s not “the artistry of the game”.

OK, I’m being harsh to myself. There is a value to watching small-time sports, and that is the almost complete absence of the sports media. Sportswriters, as a collective group, are a bunch of hacks. Sure, there are some good ones (Joe Posnanski of the KC Star writes with such grace that I almost WANT to root for the Royals, I grew up reading and adoring Thomas Boswell of the Washington Post, I read everything by King Kaufman of Salon, and I wish I read more of Allen Parra), but most of the sportswriters are a bunch of shrill hucksters who simply mouth clichés and quote inanities. Read a Bill Plaschke column and I swear you’ll lose at least a point of your IQ. I stopped reading Jay Mariotti columns when I could actually feel my brain cells killing themselves. It’s a rare sports column I’ve read where afterwards I’ve said, “Gee, that was insightful.”

I know it’s not the Paris Peace Talks, but I don’t think I’m asking for the world when I ask that sports journalism actually be more than just marketing for the local club. So when I watch the NCAA lacrosse tourney, I know that I’m not going to be subjected to a whole lot of excess pontificating. OK, the announcers are pretty B-level (that’s being charitable), but there’s a minimum amount of fuss. They just show me the friggin’ game, with a minimum of bells and whistles. There’s nothing worse than “artistic” camera angles and God help us, the sideline reporter.

So, instead of watching the NBA playoffs in between three hours of commercials, I settled in this weekend to watch the NCAA lacrosse tourney, watch a little English Premiership, and listen to LSU baseball on the internet. And I couldn’t have enjoyed it more. I’ve found that the more I enjoy a sporting event is inversely proportional to its level of hype. Big sporting events become more and more about the “event” and less and less about the game. Which is cool for the Super Bowl party, but not much else.

There’s a certain virtue to it being just about the game. So when the Ohio State goalie goes end to end to score a goal, or Notre Dame hits the crossbar and in for a game-winner in OT, or LSU closes down the Box and all of those former players walk onto the field to applaud the crowd… it means more. Because the moment was genuine and not just a marketing gimmick. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, sports don’t matter. But it’s the trivial things that make life, well, life.