I’m gonna put it out there right now: I don’t know how to be a sports columnist.
Well, not in the traditional sense, at least.
See, I think my problem is because most sports columns I’ve read are lengthy arguments about why the Patriots were crazy to let Adam Vinatieri slip away to the Colts, or why the onside kick call at the Oklahoma-Oregon game was the best/worst ever.
Here’s the thing, though.
I can’t recite baseball stats off the top of my head, I’ve got no idea who was quarterback for the Huskies in 1981, and I wouldn’t be able to figure out the BCS system if you paid me.
But hey, I’m a sports fan and a sports writer too, damn it. And I like to think I’m a different kind of sports fan, and a completely different breed of sports writer.
I love watching sports for the same reasons that everyone else does:
Entertainment: I enjoyed watching the Ducks block the Sooners’ last-ditch field goal attempt as much as the next crazed Oregon fan.
Pure Skill: Wowing at the amazing things that the human body can do if properly conditioned is, well, an amazing experience.
Everyone likes to watch limits being pushed.
The Armchair Athlete: Yes, it’s true, many sports writers are ‘retired’ athletes who now live vicariously through the exploits of others more athletically gifted. (That’s partially why last year, I was playing club lacrosse. Now, I’m writing about club lacrosse.)
But the one thing that keeps me hooked to sports is the understanding that sports can be used as a metaphor for all facets of life.
For centuries, it has been said that sports build character. Be it “A League of Their Own,” “Miracle” or “The Mighty Ducks,” every sports movie I’ve ever seen has made didactic references to life lessons learned and morals earned.
Because the complete sporting experience is like life. Doping scandals or not, I believe the athletic arena is still the one area where the purest, truest and most sincere human emotions are displayed.
There is nothing more painful than the face of an athlete who gave his all and still came up short. The raw emotion encased in every victory or defeat is the nucleus of the sporting experience. It’s why we watch sports – because we want to witness stories about people.
And that is exactly what I’m going to try and capture in my columns.
That’s why columns this year will not be about whether or not Nicole Garbin is the greatest Ducks soccer player, or why Ernie Kent should, or should not, be fired.
Every Wednesday this space will feature a column in the oldest traditions of mankind -the story. Stories of people, of triumph and defeat and of passion and disappointment.
Because that’s what I think most regular people want-aside from the hard-core statistic nuts.
And if you don’t like what I have to say, or if you think I’m just some sappy, clichéd, overly emotional columnist who’s waxing lyrical based on her own insignificant past athletic experiences, well then you’d best take it up with me, eh?
(P.S. I still have my lacrosse sticks in the closet…)
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