Thank the Lord for casual Friday.
If not, I couldn’t have rolled into work in jeans, a ponytail and a bad attitude—or should I say “Natitude.” Because once again last night, my Washington Nationals lost their post-season bid, and with the crowds and traffic (for which I applaud DC fans immensely), my head did not hit the pillow til after 3am.
Now as I slog my way through my fifth cup of coffee, I find myself wondering why we put ourselves through this—any fans, any sport—again and again, year after year? And I’ve only had the Nationals for 11 years—some franchises have waited lifetimes longer for titles.
Yet we keep coming back.
Why do I care so deeply for the performance of young men half my age, who will never even know my name, who make millions just getting out of bed, that a loss makes me want to stay in mine?
I guess because sports really are about more than wins and losses. It’s about the experience—the earthy scent of fresh cut grass, that juicy first bite of a hot dog, the whizzz of fireworks, high-fiving your fellow fans.
It’s watching a football team brute their way through hurricane force winds, or a marathoner stopping to help a fallen comrade.
It’s these sensations, far more than a trophy, that make enduring disappointment worth it all.
So now I will buy next year’s season tickets.
Right after a nap.