The news feed on Facebook is a maroon and gold blur of people tailgating. Traffic lights are useless against the bumper-to-bumper cars in the middle of intersections. Fireworks boom and pepper the sky, while people howl on the patios of bars and restaurants around Tempe.
There must be something wrong with me; I didn’t even know that it was Game Day.
Sports and human beings go together like peanut butter and jelly. Our love affair with competition, sweat and tears can be traced back to the dawn of civilization. Sports just seem to be in our blood, so why is it that no matter how hard, I try I just can’t seem to care?
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been kicking back with my favorite dudes, enjoying their company and conversation, when all of a sudden, someone brings up "the draft" or puts on SportsCenter and I find myself silenced, fidgeting in a state of awkward ignorance.
It’s as if they’re speaking another language. I try to listen and understand, but it all just sounds like a bunch of names and numbers tossed together in one sentence.
When there’s a basketball game on TV, everyone sits on the edge of their seat while I absentmindedly sink into the back of the couch.
“Wow! Did you see that?” a friend will shout at me, only to roll their eyes after I reply, “He put the ball through the hoop?”
Eventually I'll space out, actually anticipating the next commercial break which will allow me to divert the discussion away from the game or statistics.
People count down the days until the next big game. They throw parties, paint their faces and beat their chests in front of the television screen. The grocery stores erect miniature football field displays to house crates of soda and Tostitos and banners fly from the city’s streetlamps. The whole world seems to be in on it, but I don’t even know who played in the last World Series.
What am I missing that everyone else seems to understand intuitively?
Sports is such a go-to topic for small talk. In almost every class on the first day of school during those icebreaker games, someone will ask me what my favorite sports team is.
I don’t have one, let alone a favorite sport. My potential new friend’s face drops. Our nervous introduction hits a dead end, and it’s all because I’m not in touch with ESPN.
One can suffer huge social consequences for not being privy to the world of sports— It appears to be one of the only universally enjoyed pastimes, right after food and sex. Everyone has something to say about it except for me.
I don’t mean to come off as critical — the truth is that I’m jealous.
It’s wonderful that so many people can come together peacefully and happily in celebration of a common thing. But I’ve watched these games on TV and I’ve been to the arenas in person: It seems like it's just a bunch of people trying to get an object, usually a ball of some kind, from one end of the playing field to the other. It’s as entertaining to me as watching a game of pong.
I don’t get it. Am I broken?
Reach the columnist at jwadler@asu.edu or follow him at @MrJakeWAdler
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