Basketball Diaries

As I have stated before, I am a University of Illinois alum and fan. Today, the Illini faced off against the University of Arizona with a berth to the Final Four in St. Louis on the line. The game went back and forth with lead changes until late in the second half when Arizona took a double digit lead for good (or at least that's how it seemed at the time). Allow me to set the stage.

During the latter portion of the game, I was in fact in my car going to get dinner from Wendy's (why we had not yet eaten dinner and why I was picking up fast food at around 9:30, I'm really not too sure). I put the radio on the AM station from Chicago in hopes of catching the U of I broadcast of the game. Yes, there they are. Coming in clearly. At this point Arizona is leading by only a couple of points and the outcome of the game is still in question. As I travel along the far too dark back roads leading from our house to the not-quite metropolis which contains Wendy's, the station fades in and out teasing me with snippets of action. I hear bits and pieces before the reception improves enough for me to hear that the lead is now seven and to hear the Illini wasting every opportunity they are given. My frustration mounts with the game and the poor reception to the point where I decided to give up. Time to switch over to music. (The iPod is here and it's amazing.) As I sit at the drive through window waiting for the high schooler to figure out how to work the debit card machine, my curiosity gets the best of me. I have to know if the situation is any better. Now the lead is 15. Ok, game over, back to the iPod. Brooding, I continue on my way home, realizing that (1) it's just a game and I'm not even involved, but I'm still annoyed (2) there was no excuse for this team to lose yet other than buying into the hype about how great they are. As I pull into my neighborhood, I allow obsessiveness to take the reigns one last time. Switch back to AM. The announcers are far too excited. What's going on? The lead is now three with less than a minute to go. They are discussing whether to foul or play defense. I pull into the driveway. Inbounds pass...stolen. Three point shot...good. Tie game and a time out is called. Now I have a problem. I'm sitting in the driveway, food is getting cold, Frostys are melting, and I might miss the end of the game if I try to take everything down to the house. I decide to try to hurry and take the food in and put the TV on the game as soon as I walk in. Hurrying down the stairs, trying not to drop anything. I make it just in time to see...MK watching Law and Order. I put all the food down and beg for a quick channel switch. "What channel?" She switches for me. There are people walking around the court, no longer playing. No, I should have stayed in the car. Wait, it's still tied and we are going into overtime. I give MK her food and tell her I'm going downstairs to finish watching the game. The overtime period passes quickly, and the Illini prevail as a desperation shot by Arizona bounces wildly off the rim. I have gone from annoyed to despondent to hopeful to ecstatic all in the course of a few minutes. Illinois is headed to the Final Four.

I said all of that so that I can pose this question: Why do we care? Sports is a huge business in this country and others. I was able to watch my mood swing from one end of the spectrum to another based on this game even though I am still objective enough to realize that it doesn't truly matter. It is just a game. None of us are even playing in it. What makes us get so involved? Is it the sense of community, that feeling of being part of something greater than our individual selves? Is it the more primal versions of our beings wanting to establish our dominance over others?

I don't have the answers. All I know is that I may be aware that it is only a game, I may be aware that I don't have any impact on the outcome, I may be aware that my teams victories are not reflective of my superiority, but when my team is playing and my team is winning I no longer care.

Religion is the opiate of the masses? No, sports are.

Until later...