It’s a Great Time to Be Alive
It’s a Sunday in late September. That means there are football games to be watched today. A 1:00 game. A 4:00 game. There is pre-season hockey on tv tonight and while, yea, it’s pre-season, it’s still hockey. The sounds of sticks and skates and whistles in my living room is music to my ears. There’s the final countdown of the baseball season, my Yankees playing the Red Sox, playoff time close at hand. There’s no basketball, but the lockout is part of the day’s course of sports news. And of course, there’s soccer. I’m pretty sure soccer season never ends.
It’s almost overwhelming, this embarrassment of sports riches. I leave Sportscenter on all morning so I can take in everything that’s happening in each sport as I go about my routine. I’m making fun of the Mets to my father in email, fighting with my son about hockey (he’s a damn Rangers fan) and talking Green Bay footbal with my best friend. My twitter timeline reads like a sports ticker and I can barely keep up with all the cheers and boos, shit-talking and score changes.
It’s almost too much at times, but I won’t tune any of it out because it doesn’t last that long, this convergence of seasons. Soon, baseball will be over, regular season hockey will take precedence for me over football games and the frenzied feeling of having all the sports handed to me at once will abate as I settle into a mood of careful hope with the Islanders and expected disappointment from the Jets.
Sports may not be life, but early falls sure brings one hell of a distraction from it.
