Recently, when noting how silly it was that thousands of Penn State fans would spend hundreds of dollars to drive hundreds of miles to be in the vicinity of their game against Notre Dame, even though they didn’t actually have tickets, I was rebuked with a whithering “ummm, how can you NOT do that” sort of response. This, like most everything, got me to thinking. I am not an actual sports fan. I have teams that I follow more than other teams, teams which I identify with consistently, and even teams that I occasionally loathe. But I don’t really care that much. I like watching sports, but I don’t need to. I can almost never sit still through an entire game, especially if I’m not running. I would never drop several hundred dollars to watch sports. It’s just silly to me.
But I can see the appeal. People identify personally with their teams. And it’s a win-win situation. The hard work is done by proxy. The man on the couch barely needs to lift a finger. He is afforded an opportunity for the passionate embrace of something without actually putting in the effort to attain that thing for himself. It’s not that the player and the potato aren’t linked; the player has determination, driver, passion, sacrifice and dedication. The potato has passion and dedication. They go hand in hand. Why wouldn’t America embrace sports? Of course it makes sense to hang ones hat on the success and failure of a regionally significant capitalist enterprise, duh. It has all the perks of accomplishing one’s own goals without actually having to make any or carry them out.
So I was pondering this about 15 minutes ago [note, this was written on Saturday night, but my blog backend went down] when I silently muttered, “yeah, someone else’s sacrifice is imputed onto us while we get to sit on our asses and enjoy the benefits.”
Well, even though I wasn’t thinking in that direction at the time, it didn’t take long for me to see the obvious connection to my particular theology. None of us go to the Cross, but all of us, should we choose to root for the home team, get the benefits. Sure, we don’t get the gatorade dumped on our backs as we sit at the right hand of the father, but we can write fan mail and one day, when we die, get sideline tickets. Shoot, it’s Christianity in a nutshell right there, sports fans! Just as we direct our brain waves to guide a spiraling ball into the outstretched hands of a diving receiver, we “lift up our hearts and voices” to the spirit in the sky. A tidy system indeed.
So if you haven’t bought your Christ jersey yet, it’s 4th and long, 6 seconds to go – so heave up that hail mary, full of grace.
And yet…I can think of few guys in my acquaintance who sit around watching ESPN more than you.
That’s only when you’re around. And yes, I love ESPN. It’s on behind me right now. I’ll have a head ache in twenty minutes, PC and TV on at once.
I wish sports would lead my husband to J.C. I wish anything would. He is dying of stress and probably working his way toward an aneurism, and the only escapism he turns to his sports.
After I started going to church with random friends, he went to church a few times on the sly, but he never would go with me.
I don’t know if he’s still going. He is still watching/listening to various sports, but he doesn’t really care any more than you do. I don’t get it. But I also don’t understand y’all’s emotional detachment from most things.