GAMES VS SPORTS

I am in love with words.

I am a horrible speller, I have a total disregard for proper punctuation, and I have personally redefined about 15% of the English language to suit my writing/vocal needs.

But I am a compulsive reader - I simply canNOT pass a sign, a newspaper or anything with lettering on it without reading.

It helps that I am a fast reader. I have no idea why - in, fact I have no idea how I learned to read. Everyone denies teaching me, but I began kindergarten and totally stumped the poor teacher by already knowing the alphabet.

I must explain this is back in the dark ages (1961) when children did NOT go to pre-school, watch educational DVDs, and were expected to know both their ABCs and how to operate a computer.

Kindergarten was were children learned their ABCs and simple words. Also teachers could spank you without repercussions, kids flunked classes, and we all played sports.

Back to the main subject.

Which was... yeah, what was it?

Oh, yeah, games.

I don't really like games involving words. I hate Scrabble (I can never pay attention to the higher score placement), I detest crossword puzzles (come on, they come up with words like "kx" which in Kurdish for kangaroo droppings).

I love Big Boogle, but it's only because I am good at it.

And no one will play it with me anymore because I am so good at it.

Which brings me back to sports.

What is the difference between games and sports?

Games are.... well, games. Playing. Keeping track of the score, I guess, but mostly pitting your skills against another, and hopefully having fun while doing it.

Sports are, to quote a book I love, absolute and unreserved fierce concentration on where a particular ball is at that moment in time.

AS WE CHEER/LAUGH/CRY TOGETHER

There are certain actions, particular habits, that humans all seem to be bound by (I'd use the expression 'universal', except that annoys me immensely - we are so humancentric).


We all smile when we are pleased - we all cry, unless trained otherwise (sorry, American males) - we laugh, giggle and even sometimes squeal like a pig.

But why do we all... well, push together?

Let me use an example.

I am not a huge sports fan anymore. There is a quote from a favorite book of mine by Haven Kimmel, which of course at this moment I cannot locate, so I will poorly paraphrase it; all sports involve a passionate desire for the location of a ball.

I do not have this desire.

I like basketball, but my husband flatly refuses to watch any semi-important game with, because I root for whoever has the ball at that particular instant.

I am alway for the offense - which drives any true sports fanatic totally insane... at least for half of the time.

But when there is that one moment - last quarter, final seconds, that one last agonizing throw/shot/put/whatever that hangs in the air for that unbearable extended second...


And everyone, even pathetic non-competitive people like me, holds their breath, and somehow...

connect in some cosmic, universal (there, I said it anyway) way.

Outside of sports - think about the last time you held your breath about something happening to someone else - maybe when they froze up trying to speak in public - a little child tripped and fell - a motor was trying to turn over....

And suddenly you were mentally trying to help them - help them up - push that gas pedal just a little bit more...



I am not making a good argument for this outside of sports, I can see, but I can't just leave it alone, either.

Partially because I'm not certain where it comes from.

Is it actually a spiritual unity, coming from the brotherhood of mankind? Is it karma? Some sort of psychic energy?

Or perhaps something we do bring with us from our pre-mortal existence with God?

Any thoughts? Or perhaps a paper someone much more articulate than me has already published?

Please?