With Feelings Like These...

I saw about 10 minutes of a Celtic game the other day. It was, perhaps, the first true revelation of this whole experiment.

Don't be too disappointed in me, folks. It really wasn't my fault. I've been in other situations over the past few months where there was a sporting event on, and I have managed to look away, or simply leave the room. This time, there just wasn't anything I could do.

I was at the gym, working on a 25 minute session on an elliptical machine. There was someone in front of me on a treadmill one machine to my right. Just perfectly in my natural gaze. The TV on my own machine was broken and I was listening to headphones. Still, I could see everything that was happening over at the Garden. It was early, but the Celtics had a nice lead on the Houston Rockets, a much more talented team (at the moment, anyway). I had a long way to go on my workout, and so there I was, caught. Unable to turn away, and forced to see the game.

At first, I was shocked and delighted to see that Boston was winning. I have seen the headlines about how this years scrappy, underdog team has been able to play with just about anyone from time to time. Still, Houston's talent is plain to see, so I certainly wasn't expecting to see the C's ahead. Of course, I was also just happy to be seeing the game played again. It really has been a long time for me. Like catching up with an old friend. Several actually. There was Pick and Roll. And over there was The Extra Pass. Oh, and look! It's Fast Break! He just showed up out of nowhere! How nice. 

Sadly, like many parties, before long it wasn't just old friends that we're showing up. It shouldn't have been a surprise to see Houston start to assert itself. All of a sudden, Extra Pass was hanging out with Rushed Shot. Someone must have let Slow Defensive Rotation in, and he was really starting to fuck with things. Goddammit, Telegraphed Crosscourt Pass is here? Seriously? AGAIN? The Celtics were blowing it.

Thats when I noticed it. It was right in the center of my chest. I'd gone so long without it, it was hard to recognize at first, but then it became starkly clear. The stress and tension of watching this lead dwindle was palpable in the center of my chest. Another bad pass and my teeth were clenched. As it happened, I was holding heart rate monitors, and I could see that I was up at over 140, when my goal had been to stay at 115 or so. In no time, I couldn't wait for my session to be over so that I could get out of the line of sight of this game. A big turnaround.

When and if I return to watch the teams I love, I am going to have to find a way to make sure that rooting for them does not manifest in me this way. It was never something I noticed while I was watching all the time, but being away from it for so long, I'm amazed at how tangible it was in its return.