As yet another semester draws to a close, teachers naturally ramp up the workload in an attempt to make sure they cover all their material by the time finals roll around. Students grapple with the need to dutifully complete their schoolwork despite the long-awaited coming of warm weather. And when these two forces collide, something always has to give.
For some students, it’s either their ability to enjoy the beautiful weather or their grades that suffer. More often, sleep gets pushed to the side as students try to “have it all,” Liz Lemon-style.
With three tests, a project and a lab report all due in the last 10 days of school, I can say my teachers have kept me exceptionally busy this semester. But I have finished all of my work and enjoyed the nice weather whenever possible. I haven’t even lost an unusual amount of sleep. Rather, it’s my consumption of sports that has suffered most.
As I have alluded to in past columns, I am something of a sports junkie — with ESPN, Bleacher Report, and Deadspin heavily represented in my Internet history. So it seemed strange to me that I’d give up sports so easily.
I tried to rationalize it; I told myself, “College basketball is over and there’s no football, and the NBA playoffs haven’t started yet. What am I going to do, watch baseball and hockey?”
But something still didn’t feel right, and I figured it out when I emerged from my room Sunday evening to watch Angel Cabrera miss the putt on the second playoff hole that eventually cost him the green jacket as Masters champion.
Sports are such an important part of my identity that when I give them up, even for a short time, I am left with a weird, empty space. After I witnessed Aussie Adam Scott sink the winning putt Sunday, everything clicked for me.
Sports events are my go-to study break, perhaps even more than Facebook. They are the thing that keeps me sane in the midst of chaos. They are part of a healthy life. They’re a bonding experience. They’re entertainment. They’re everything.
The sports world features larger-than-life personalities, both on the field and off. Some, such as Tim Duncan or Robert Griffin III, we love. Others, like Kobe Bryant, we love to hate. We pay for high-priced stadium tickets or sit, transfixed, in front of the TV in order to watch these players perform feats of athleticism that we can’t even fathom. The mystique is part of the allure of sports — the fact that these people have hit the genetic lottery and are doing things spectators can only fantasize about.
Which brings us back to The Masters. At first glance, the stud-athlete dynamic is not exactly golf’s forte. When the majority of your competitors look more like accountants or lawyers than modern-day incarnations of Adonis, you aren’t exactly reeling people in with displays of mythic gladiatorial athleticism. But that doesn’t mean golf lacks star-power. When one name is mentioned, even the most casual of golf-watchers perks up.
Of course, that name is Tiger Woods.
Any time Tiger is in the field, viewership spikes as people tune in to see if he is going to provide another inimitably mesmerizing moment. The Masters is always the most watchable golf event of the year, and with Tiger in search of his first major win since 2008, all eyes were on Augusta National.
But as Sunday drew to a close, our attention turned away from Woods and to the champion Scott, who had previously come so close to a major title without ever sealing the deal. Watching someone who had failed so many times finally get it right was an exciting moment in itself, and it reminded me of all the things I love about sports.
Sports, I love your spontaneity and excitement. I love Gus Johnson’s wildness and Jim Nantz’s steady cool. I love that there are megastars like Tiger and LeBron, and I love how satisfying it is to see an underdog knock stars off their thrones once in a while. And I love that you allow me to get away from everything for a while and get lost in your world.
Sports, I’m sorry. I promise we won’t break up like that ever again — even for a week and a half.
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