Sports Explained: By a Relatively Apathetic Fan
I finally understand why people love playing sports, even if you are a subpar in the skills department. It’s that one singular moment in time you are striving for. That perfect connection, that perfect pitch, that perfect game. The one that gives you a head high and sends your dopamine levels through the roof.
Perfection is addicting. Once you’ve experienced the magic once, it’s no wonder you keep going back for more.
Allow me to explain.
There I was at the far end of the kitchen, foot just barely touching the kick pad of the flip-top garbage can. My friend was standing a mere five feet away, ready to pass me a cork that would ultimately (hopefully on this attempt) end up in the garbage. I botched the first try and not only grabbed the cork out of the air (which apparently broke the rule of this fun new game we were playing), but I also hesitated too much in opening said garbage can, and ended up literally throwing the cork at the closed cover instead of inside it.
This time though, I was ready. I took a deep breath, shook out my hands, and mentally prepared for the amazing feat I was about to accomplish.
Not only did the cork make it into the garbage can on this fateful attempt, but I also fully swatted it out of the air and displayed more hand eye coordination than I thought I possessed (if you were around for those summers of beach volleyball, you know what I’m talking about…).
To explain that whole situation in sports talk: I was apparently on the receiving end of an alley-oop and it was AWESOME.
(I should have probably finished my amazing moves off with a ‘Kobe!’ exclamation of some kind, but honestly I’ve never even thought to do that at any point in my life thus far, so why start now?)
An alley-oop, for those of you you don’t know and were about to Google it like I did, is apparently an offensive play in basketball where one player throws the ball near the basket to their teammate who then jumps, catches the ball in mid-air, and slam dunks it into the basket before ever touching the ground. (Thanks, Wikipedia.)
Yes, it was just a cork that we were throwing out. And no, I did not even bother attempting to do all of this mid-jump because that certainly would not have ended well. This also wasn’t exactly a high stakes game here. But still, I was absolutely elated when I whacked that damn thing into the basket. Like, full rush of emotions, beaming goofy smile from ear to ear, sort of elated.
That single moment explained to me in the clearest possible terms why people love sports, go crazy over them, and feel über passionate about them, even if the act of playing said sport frustrates them to no end 99.9% of the time.
My golf people out there - that last bit is for you.
