Stranger Things are Happening

I'm traveling alone for work this week, which gives me a lot of time to consider things. It's amazing how many similar, small interactions you have on the road. The workers at various counters, the people in your row, or in line with you. A seemingly endless series of tiny conversations can really make your break your travel day.

I tend to wear my Sox hat when I travel, as it engenders less ill will than a Patriots hat. As it happens, I have been in two very sports happy places, so my hat is something of an open invitation to talk. There's a fun sort of dance that happens when a conversation starts to tip toe towards team talk. The stranger and I try to gauge where each other stands, and how much interest we have in each others' teams.

The most satisfying of these conversations are always the ones where, though we may root for different colors, we are aware of some of the history and current status of sports in our respective cities. The older folks are usually the best ones to talk to. They have some great stories, and once they see that you don't just blindly support your own town, they'll open right up.

It may be folly, but I believe you can really understand the personality of a city, and even a region, by learning how the fans talk about their teams. I know there are major parts of the population of any area that could give a crap what happens in stadiums and arenas. And yet, the ones who do are usually spread very nicely through the various social strata that divide us in other ways. 

Sports can be a kind of inverted third rail when dealing with strangers. Where politics and religion are far too highly charged, sports can be a nice, neutral entry point for building a relationship. I'm grateful to have it, and I expect to miss it once the Red Sox finish this year. 

Happy October, all!

A Tip of the Cap

A fairly pedestrian beer company has, for a couple of years now, had a cute campaign centered around the odd things sports fans do to try and influence the performance of their teams in the games they watch. The first few were pretty fun, but I have grown a little tired of them as they have gotten more and more complex and absurd. I'm also more than a little embarrassed by the portrayals because, as it happens, I do some of those things.

When I was younger, I had a North Carolina Tar Heels hat that I would place on the television for big games. The record that the UNC basketball team had in "games with Tim's hat on the TV", while not available from Elias Sports Bureau, was spectacular (you'll have to trust me on that). The mojo was far too precious to use for every game, so I would only break it out for the big ones. ACC Tourney finals, Final Four games, etc.. Far, far more often than not, the hat did the job. At best it was a practice that gave me a sense of involvement and identity with the team I was rooting for. At worst it was the manifestation of a pathological delusion of grandeur. Either way, it was a part of me.

And in many ways, it still is. After an historic collapse at the end of the 2011 Red Sox season, hopes were high for 2012. A new manager was in town, and things felt like a fresh start. In early April I went to Fenway for my first game of the year (I try to get to 3 or 4 each season). I decided to buy a new Sox, banking on the voodoo of getting it at the ballpark to outweigh the Fenway markup. The 2012 Sox did not figure out how to make up for the slide of the previous autumn, instead being an even more unlikeable, embarrassing, underachieving group. Eventually, against the incredulous protests of my much more sane wife, I threw my new hat in the trash.

This past spring, after yet another manager change and one of the biggest trades in baseball history, no one expected much out of the Red Sox. Still, knowing I needed a hat, my in-laws picked one up for me as a birthday gift. It's important to note here that the hats in question were identical. Deep denim blue, with a olde style font, red "B" proudly on the front, an adjustable strap in the back with another little "B" on a tag. No matter where you are in the country, you have likely seen this hat today. The one I threw away, and the one I got as a gift were indistinguishable, but they were most certainly different.

A few days ago, the Red Sox won the AL East for the first time in years. As it sit here, they possess the very best record in all of professional baseball and they are a favorite to win the World Series by their own fans and the taking heads on national sports channels alike. They are a fun, silly, skilled group of guys who play the game right. They are balanced, and they have been on a roll all year long.

I know that my hat has nothing to do with all these accomplishments. After all, it's just a hat, but I'll be damned if you can borrow it.

Football addendum

An article was brought to my attention that further drives home the point that Football is all about the watching: http://nyti.ms/1aKt1b2

Football – The Television Sport

Unless you are a Fantasy Football player, or maybe a bettor, the NFL pre-season probably doesn’t generate much excitement. Even as a die-hard Patriots fan, I can never muster the energy to even watch a few downs of a pre-season game. There’s just no point to it. The coaches are looking for things that we can’t be sure of, so why bother watching?

Because of all that, when I made up my mind to take on this challenge, the Sox were the pretty much the only game in town. The emergence of the Patriots has certainly brought a new level of seriousness to The Off-Season, and I’ve been thinking about football a lot over the last two weeks.

The NFL is arguably the most successful sports league in history. This is largely due to the fact that the NFL was built on television. Most every other league was built on the rules of the game they play, but the NFL was designed to be paired with television and sold to the fans. NFL Films is a side business that leans on the all-encompassing documentation of the league to create pioneering sports documentary films. Just knowing there are pro teams playing football on TV on Sundays makes it tough for me to focus on other things. It just feels right to watch.

I never really realized how reliant the NFL was on TV until the Patriots were being tempted by a new stadium in Hartford, CT in the late 90's. Sports radio was wailing away about the possible loss, and I was right there with them. I thought it would be a tragedy. I was talking about it with someone when my friend Brian walked by. "What do you care where they play?" he asked. "How many games a year do you go to?"

I was stunned. The answer was one or two, tops. It really made very little difference to me where they played. I was going to watch anyway. The Patriots, to me, and to the vast majority of fans, exist on TV only. Think about the fact that the NFL is the only league that plays it's championships on a neutral site! How weird is that?

Interestingly, during this same time period, I have been able to connect with a steward of the history of the game, rooted right here in Boston. Rooted, in fact, right outside my office. As it happens, the first organized football team was created by kids from the Dixwell School, located in Boylston Alley, the current location of Emerson College, where I work. Seriously! Here’s an article all about it.

I’m excited to have met Mr. McGrath and even more excited to be taking over the position of Team President when he is ready to relinquish it. I don’t think it will violate the rules of the Off-Season to be paying attention to things that happened 150 years ago. I hope to have the chance to repair the monument and continue to promote the important place Boston has not just in the current world of football, but in it's genesis as well.

In other news, it may be a very good thing that I am laying off of watching sports for while, if this article is to be believed.

BFD?

In the few days since I made my announcement, the Red Sox have played three games that demonstrate just how tough The Off-Season is going to be for me. A thrilling pitchers' duel, an absolute demolition, and a see-saw battle with a great rival (all Boston wins) have combined to make me realize what's so great about watching sports. I thought I'd talk about that for a bit here to raise the stakes for those of you who don't have skin in the sports watching game.

In some ways, I think sports was the first social media. Picture a kid in bed, pretending to be asleep while listening to a baseball game on a little radio sometime in the 1920's. The home team wins it in the bottom of the 9th and the kid can hear the fans roar. Thrilled, the kid knows other people out there, in the stadium and in their own houses across the region, "like" it too. They are separate, but they are together. The next day, the kid wears a hat with the team logo and instantly is connected to other people who are doing the same thing. They are on the same page. They know nothing of each other, and yet they know they have something in common. They share a smile over last nights win. Maybe even talk about it. That's powerful! 

Things that bring us together should be embraced.

These days, time shifting radio and TV have left sports and awards shows as the last bastion of large scale, shared public experiences. As I watched the last three Sox games, I knew that there were friends of mine out there wincing, sweating and cheering at the exact same moments I was. Again, power.

So why give it up? 

I'm not really sure. One thing I do know is that several years ago I have up listening to sports talk radio. I had been a loyal listener ever since about the 8th grade. Despite that, I had developed a sense that the constant arguing and rehashing of events, good and bad, was not quite in line with what I loved about sports. It wasn't about the wonder of the moment, and the unpredictability of the contest at hand. It was difficult at first, but I quickly saw that mu instinct had been right, and my quality of life improved greatly. The wins became more fun, and the losses less damaging, as I didn't have to worry about hearing about it for the rest of the day or week. I was happier.

It's not as if this is an easy time to turn away. The Sox have a great chance to win it all, as do the Patriots. The Bruins are a title contender with high expectations after a stunning end to last year. The Celtics are starting out on a very intriguing rebuilding process that may very well move pretty quickly. They won't likely be very good, but with that comes the ability to catch a game anytime you want at a reasonable price and be surrounded by actual fans. A nice benefit, but one I'll have to pass up, I guess. It's even a compelling and important year for my Tar Heels with new rivals to play and some status to reclaim after a down year.

I'm not sure what I will discover my giving up the games, but I'm curious, and that seems like a good enough reason, right?

Walking Away

Since 2001, the City of Boston has seen an incredible run of professional sports success. All four major teams won their respective championships within seven years, and they all played for several more titles, winning three. Few other towns, if any, have seen similar runs, and it's hard to imagine any ever will in the future. All this in a place where sports were a near constant topic at water coolers, bars and social events even during a 15 year span of utter futility. The resulting fervor around the Bruins, Celtics, Red Sox and Patriots makes it difficult to operate in Boston without paying some attention to them.

This has been no trouble for me, as I happen to have loved the inherent drama and civic pride that comes from rooting for the home team long before I adopted Boston as my home. Coming to this region for college, it was easy to fall for the four big teams in town, and I have not looked back. Following Boston sports has given me countless wonderful memories, and there seems to be no end in sight... but now I'm walking away.

As a bit of an experiment, once the Red Sox have played their last game of this season, I'll begin a self imposed year away from sports. I'm interested to find out two things as a result of this project. First, how hard will it be to avoid knowing what's going on, and second, what will I fill the time with? The rules are simple:

1. During this time, I will be unable to actively seek out sports games or information.
2. I must be actively pursuing something new to fill at least some of the time formerly occupied by consuming sports.

Rule one means that if I am in a bar with a game on, I don't have to leave, but I can't devote my attention to the game, nor can I click on a link I might see that talks about sports of any kind. Rule two is easier. I'll be starting by trying to learn to juggle, something I have always wanted to be able to do. If I am able to learn it, I'll have to move on to something else.

I'll make regular updates here, so let me know if you think I can make it, or if you think I'll crash and burn. I'm really not sure myself! Regardless, as the Sox finish this year Champs or chumps, once they make their final out, The Off-Season begins.