There is a certain vibe that resonates in sports fans everywhere. Your team may not be the best; they may be up against odds insurmountable, but the feeling, the devastation that comes after a loss (as was the case just a few seconds ago) dictates that the loss could have been avoided, if only you were able to watch the game. It sounds bizarre. It is bizarre. It's connection. It's unity. It's madness. Complete and utter madness.
I'm sorry, UCONN, that I couldn't have been there for you.
If, instead of watching the delayed statisics (that showed up a few seconds before the audio kicked in), I was able sit in front of the T.V. in a room full of Duke fans (sorry, boys, but at least we made it to the Elite Eight) and throw a fist in the air as George Mason missed the all-important free-throws,
If instead of concentrating on missing the last three pointer, Denham, you could have seen me, in front of my laptop, geography book thrown to the side, Peruvians wondering what in the world has overtaken me,
If you could have known that I wanted to hear the swish of the net be swallowed up by the stampede of the crowd,
If you didn't need me to watch the game to come away victorious,
Then you'd be a man, my friend.
"Even the best fall down sometimes."
“At least he ran in the right direction: ran back. And that is what shames me most of all. I, who call myself a warhorse and boasted of a hundred fights, to be beaten by a little human boy – a child, a mere foal, who had never held a sword nor had any good nurture or example in his life.” -C.S. Lewis (Sliding down may be the thing that lets you climb.)
