I'm reading "Listening is an Act of Love." It's a collection of interviews of and by ordinary people; it grew out of the StoryCorps project that a radio producer started.
The interview I just finished was about a 63-year-old man, born and bred in the Bronx. So, it doesn't take a genius to guess his favorite sports team. Coincidentally, the interview right before his was a wife telling her husband about her favorite aunt. She says her most common recollection of Aunt Mary is an image of her cooking in her small kitchen on a small stove, with the soundtrack of her life -- a Pittsburgh Pirates game-- playing on the radio in the background.
Call it what you want ... a devotion or a waste of time ... a harmless diversion or a vicarious journey ... sports -- especially following a favorite team -- is a big deal.
Many weeks when I take notes at our local Rotary Club meetings, member after member -- mostly guys -- will stand up and pay a buck or two, happily celebrating their team's recent win or regretfully acknowledging yet another loss.
You can tell by the joking around that, at least in the retelling, the guys are enjoying a healthy diversion. When I first became the bulletin editor, the hardest part was keeping straight who rooted for what team. It helped to know where they'd gone to college, because that school or its community was often the deciding factor.
I grew up in a Yankee household because my dad grew up in the Bronx, too. We watched St. Bonaventure basketball (rosaries in hand) because the university was just down the road a few miles. Although we pretty much ignored football, I've always felt like a Bills fan since Buffalo is just an hour and a bit away.
The Yankees' devotion carried through to my son and onto a license plate frame that's been on the last three cars I've driven. He and I bought it together and I drive it around with pride, more pride than you'd expect from someone who only tolerated the 2009 series, wishing it over (one way or the other) because it messed up the evening TV schedule.
While reading those interviews, I got to thinking that it's more than a competitive streak, more than an allegiance to a locality, that infuses sports through much of our everyday lives. The ultimate allure may be the sense of belonging that comes with having a team to call your own.
For many, it starts with playing the sport (whatever it is) as a kid or later in high school or college.
Even if you don't make it to the pros, or never even dreamed of going that far, there's something about being able to relate to what the athletes are doing and feeling, because you've been there yourself. Different stadium, different stakes, but the basics are the same. So there's a connection to be savored.
Then there's the feeling you get when you belong to something big, no matter how the season's going.
People toss around that question about whether a tree falling in a forest makes a noise if no one hears it, and you get into all sorts of questions about relativity. But apply it to sporting events and the answer comes more easily: Would you feel the same about your team if you were the only one whoever watched them?
Sure, you'd still appreciate the skill. You'd still get charged up by the best plays. But, I'm willing to bet that it would get boring after a while.
Having a team means belonging to the noise, the crowds (even if you just watching from home), a common spirit. There's joy in belonging to something much bigger.
That's what makes sports a big deal.
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