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Why I Love Sports

I've never really thought about why I love sports. It never crossed my mind that there's a reason I love sports. Sports have been ingrained in me since the day I was born. It's a part of who I am. So, I couldn't express why I love it so much. But recently, I've been thinking about it more. What is it about sports that makes me want to stay and watch? Why do I crave watching a game, while my sister, born into the same household, with the same values, hates sports? My first experience with sports that I can remember was when I was three. A friend of mine was having his birthday party at Yankee Stadium (an odd place I know). All the kids went with their respective parents. I went with my dad. It was my first sporting event. My first time at the majestic Yankee Stadium. As I sat in the bleachers, drunken fans around me, I took it all in. This was my first experience with sports. I could not tell you what happened during the game. The only thing I remember is being the last one to leave. Everyone one, including the birthday boy, left after the 3rd inning. I left after the 7th. It was a source of pride for me, that, even at 3, I could stick it out longer than my friends could. But, was this why I love sports? Because I could stay 4 more innings than my friends? No. It couldn't be. There has to be some bigger reason, something that drew me in, and never let me go.

My first memory of hockey was going to a Devils game. I had to have been 5. I went with my dad. I don't remember anything about the game, except for this. One player was being physical by the boards. Nothing out of the ordinary. But for me, it was barbaric. So, I stood up, and I yelled at the player. I said, "Hey, you're not very nice!" The other fans around me cheered, and I started high fiving random people. I loved it. Maybe it was the camaraderie that drew me in. Maybe it was different people pulling for a common cause. I don't know. But that moment was my first step into fandom. My first step in to experiencing the highs and lows of sports, the thrill of victory, the agony of defeat.

That moment seemed to create a spark. I became an avid fan of the Yankees, Knicks, and Giants (although I did experience a quick transfer into a Jets fan, mostly because most of my friends were Jet fans). I would watch every game I could. I would listen to my father as he taught me about the sports, as he told me stories from his childhood. I didn't really understand the games back then. I would watch, but I didn't really know what was going on. This was my introduction into fandom, not knowledge of sports. It took me awhile for that.

I always remember having a catch with my dad. We would start with this foam Yankees baseball. I remember loving that ball. I remember being in my parents bedroom, learning a pitching motion. The tangible act of playing sports was for me, awesome. I really only played baseball, but I still loved it. Now, I sucked. In Little League, there was one year I had three hits, and two of them were bunts. But, for some reason, I was good at defense in baseball. It must've been all the times practicing to be a catcher with my dad. Or trying "tricky catches" with a friend. When I hit puberty, though, I started to be able to hit. I remember one at bat in particular. I hit three bombs in a row. All were foul, but they all cleared the fence. I had grown earlier than other kids, so I was now one of the better players. But if I was bad, or if I was good, I loved putting on my uniform and playing. I loved to dive for balls, even if I didn't have to. I loved recapping the game with my dad afterwards, or sitting around the lunch table with my friends, talking about that week's games. I loved it. Maybe my love of sports came from playing. From getting up early in the morning for soccer practice, to having a catch with my dad, to pretending to throw a perfect game against my bedroom door, I loved competition.

I was a quick study in sports, too. I remember reading the box scores every morning in the New York Times. I would pour through the stats. I loved stats. It was my favorite part. I wanted to know how many minutes the best basketball players played. I wanted to know everything. My thirst for knowledge, even at that young age, is still here today. So maybe I love sports because it taught me that I love to learn. That I love to analyze and dissect. But, I still can't explain why I keep coming back. I would rather stay in and watch a game then run around outside. One of my favorite possessions as a young boy was a ball. I carried it with me everywhere. It's apparent that sports are a part of me. But why? Why did I need to watch a game? Why did I crave learning more?

I guess the simple answer to it is this: Some people love music because it always playing. Some people love to cook because they watched their grandmother cook. For me, I love sports because we were always watching it. My fondest childhood memories are of watching sports, of jumping up and down after a win, of my father consoling me after a tough loss. Some of the life lessons I've learned have come from sports. Whether it was my dad telling me how baseball was like life ("You have winning streaks and losing streaks," he would say. "There are lucky bounces, there are bad breaks. It's on every day. It never stops), or how to be competitive without being too aggressive, sports has been the greatest teacher. Whenever I'm down, sports are what I turn to. I love sports, not for the strategy or the execution, not for wins or losses, but I love sports, because when I watch, I see my dad smiling after a Yankee win. I love sports because I remember running around on the Little League field. I love sports because I remember running around a square carpet in my living room, pretending they were bases. I love sports. And for the longest time, I couldn't figure out why I devoted so much time to it, why I blog about it, why I talk to my friends about it, why I watch every game I can, why I listen to sports talk radio, why I construct Rangers line combinations before I sleep, why I crave it, why I need it. But now I know. I grew up with it. I was destined to love sports because my father loved it, because my mother loved it, because my older cousin, about 13 years older, who I worshiped growing up, loved it. I love sports because it has given me so many memories, both good and bad. I love it because I can write about it, because I can write over 1000 words on the topic, and still have more to say. I love sports because there is something to the execution, to the strategy, to the highs and lows. I love sports because from Day one of my life, it's been there for me. I've been able to turn to it in my lowest of lows, in my highest of highs. I love sports, because deep down, I think that watching Yankee games helped my father beat leukemia. I love sports because some of the players are heroes of mine. I love sports because there is a history, there are people who came before you who made the game better than you could ever make it. I love sports because I relish competition, something I've relished since childhood. I love sports because it's a part of me. Sports and me go hand in hand. I love sports. And I couldn't imagine living without it. It gives me a high like no other. Whether it's going to the Preakness every year with the above mentioned cousin, my dad, and my godfather. Whether it's going to Yankee Stadium, soaking in the history. Whether it's going to Madison Square Garden, and watch the Rangers raise their sticks to the rafters. I've been fortunate to have been to attend numerous hockey playoff games, a World Series game, events that sometimes make me pinch myself. This is why love sports. This is why I crave it. This is why I need it. This is why, when I'm old in age, I'll have sports on the television, right until the day I die. Maybe you don't love sports as much as I do. Maybe you do. Maybe you love it more. But, for me, without sports, I couldn't be complete. I couldn't be who I am. I thank sports for making me the person I am, for teaching me the values that I live by. It's taken awhile, but I finally know why I love sports. Hopefully, in this
post, in this blog, my passion rubs off on you. It would be the only way I could payback sports for what it has done.

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