Why We Do It

My eyes shoot open. “It can’t be time already,” I think as my alarm blares at me to get up, quite rudely I might add. Weary from excessive tailgate salami and oh, maybe, one too many drinks, I drag my loafing body to the shower to get ready for another long week of work. “Was that worth it?” I wonder.

Was it worth getting up at nine on my Sunday morning to get out to a parking lot by 11? Was it worth sitting behind two screaming Green Bay Packers fans, each wearing those ridiculous hats of cheese upon their swollen, fat faces? Was it worth a two and a half hour trip home between bus and subway until finally collapsing on the couch exhausted and distraught? Is it worth it being a fan of the New York Giants? Is it worth being a fan of anything?

We all know the pain doesn’t end there. You won’t just suffer from that withering hangover, you won’t just sit in your tedious office and perform your seemingly meaningless function, oh your fate will be much worse than just that. Alas, you’ll also have to pick up the local papers and realize you now have to read about how bad your beloved team just played, in painstaking detail.

Yes the New York press will certainly remind you just how inept the Giants defense looked. How undisciplined some members of their offense performed – I’m looking at you, Jeremy – and they no doubt will not fail to remind you that your old curmudgeon of a coach has only one year left on his deal. You’ll know full well that Michael Strahan held out and may be a selfish superstar, find out that even Antonio Pierce has been lowered to air horns, and enjoy consistent reminders that you root for an 0-2 team with a worthless, disgraceful, useless excuse of a defense. Oh and you might even hear something about how the Giants apparently made a large trade to acquire Eli Manning a few years ago and the results have so far been mixed (Gary Myers will likely mention something about the names Philip Rivers, Ben Rothlisberger, and Shawne Merriman).

They will not fail to mention your teams startling inability to get off the field on third down, nor there complete ineptitude in covering a tight end. In fact, they may rightly mention that it appears most of the Giants defense is actually unaware that the tight end is allowed to catch passes.

It all makes for an overly miserable week.

And here’s the really sad part: weeks like these are far more common than not. How often does your team win the championship? Almost never. The last time a major franchise I rooted for won any type of championship was the New York Rangers and the death of hockey since has erased most, if not all, of the joy of that moment. It just doesn’t happen. You know what happens in abundance, your team will lose, and they will lose painfully.

The Vikings will recover and onside kick and steal a playoff game. Your kicker will send a kickoff out of bounds with 10 seconds to go against the Dallas Cowboys and two plays later you’ve somehow lost. You’ll go an entire season where the center/holder exchange is a constant roller coaster, culminating in the horrid sight of your punter floating up a lame duck pass that bounces harmlessly to the ground while an offensive lineman flails his arms in a pitiful attempt to make the grab. You’ll endure false starts in key times, ill-timed personal fouls, fumbles, interceptions and defensive lapses. That’s what sports is. For the vast majority of us, we’ll endure far more heart-breaking failure than we ever will sweet, unblemished victory.

Worse, we realize that the athletes make millions and we do not. Often, it seems tragically unfair. When the game is over they go back to their mansions and their beautiful wives whereas we get up early Monday morning and push papers for the next five days, or install cable, or dig ditches or whatever crappy thing we do that isn’t nearly as cool as playing professional sports. How do we care so much and seemingly get so little?

Well, here’s what we get. We get something to care about, something to believe in. We get the opportunity to experience a level of joy and excitement our lives would otherwise completely lack. Do you ever visualize what you might look like at work; how lifeless, how pathetic. Most of my workday, I sit in front of my computer and stare blankly. I file, I fax, I make endless copies. I send email, make phone calls, write reports. It’s boring. It’s real boring.

Last week, when the New York Giants were trailing miserably 17-3 and it looked like the season was all but lost. My roommate and I, both ardent Giants followers, sat lifeless and silent in our apartment. It wasn’t just the loss that was killing us, it was the possibility that this season would be lost. We were mourning the fact that this early we would have nothing more to look forward to for the rest of the season. It was already over. I wondered why I do it. Why do I root?

And just like that came the answer. Twenty one unanswered points. A 33-yard incredible scamper by Plaxico Burress from Eli Manning. A dramatic goal line stand. My roommate and I jumped out of our chairs, screamed with excitement and pride, high fived like no one was watching and bumped chests hard enough that we almost fell over. To say it was the highlight of my week was an understatement and just as quickly as I wondered why I do it, I now wondered what I would ever do without sports. How would I live? If I woke up tomorrow morning and the Giants, or the Knicks, or the Mets didn’t exist, would it even be worth continuing.

I read an article in Time magazine recently that stated that a few years back researchers at the University of Indiana found that when the basketball team won, the guys on campus actually felt more confident that they could get dates. That’s right, your athletic heroes can actually get you laid. But it wasn’t surprising to read that. There’s nothing like a big win. I absolutely know that feeling.

This Monday, the alarm didn’t seem so loud or annoying. My morning Cheerios tasted particularly good, as though that adorable little bee had really given that honey nut a little something extra just for me. I strutted into work almost looking forward to it and opened up the Daily News excited to read that the Giants ‘D’ had come through.

I am a Giants fan. We won. Is it Sunday yet?