I spent last evening at Buffalo Wild Wings with my two sons—ages 10 and 12—watching the NCAA basketball championship game. The game was just a reason to spend some time with them. I couldn’t have cared less who won.(Although, just for the record, I did pick North Carolina to win at the beginning of the tournament. I really went out on a limb, didn’t I?)My ten-year-old son is a sports fan. He plays baseball and basketball, and pays attention to sports in general. It’s been fun to watch his love for sports develop over the past couple of years. The Cubs World Series run helped intensify that, as did his discovery of basketball and the Golden State Warriors.My twelve-year-old son is just here for the nachos. He played baseball when he was five, six and seven-years-old. His last game he let his younger brother wear his uniform and play for him. That sums up the difference in my boys.The three of us sat in a booth and ate burgers or wings, and fries, and chocolate shakes or beer. We shared nachos and drank countless Diet Cokes and root beers for which our waitress forgot to charge us. We played a game called Green Glass Door, mocked the ridiculousness of the mixed martial arts matches showing on another screen, and speculated about the mysterious puddle on the men’s room floor.I may or may not have yelled when my son spilled his Diet Coke, soaking the table and his own lap.And we watched the game.As I said before, I didn’t really care who won the game. I barely paid attention to college basketball this year, and the only person on either team I recognized was Roy Williams, who’s been a college coach for as long as I’ve been alive.But the boys and I agreed that we’d rather Gonzaga win. North Carolina wins often, so we cheered for the Zags.Before the game began I told the boys, “I’ll give you fifty bucks if you can tell me what state Gonzaga is in.” They answered together, right away, “Washington.” I told them I was just kidding, and then asked how they knew that. Their teachers had been talking about March Madness since it began, they said. I’m sending the invoice for fifty bucks to each of their teachers.So we cheered and booed with the sort of passive interest that only exists while watching a big game in which one has no emotional stake. Gonzaga hung in there throughout, but in the end North Carolina prevailed.My ten-year-old son didn’t hide his disappointment. My twelve-year-old son said, “I was just rooting for Gonzaga because it’s a fun word to say.” We joked as we left the restaurant, but my ten-year-old son remained somewhat upset.“More often than not, your team isn’t going to win the championship,” I explained to him. Of course this provided no comfort. Either did pointing out that until recently he didn’t even care about Gonzaga and their basketball team.I tried to provide context for him.I’ve been a sports fan since 1985, roughly. I remember the Royals and Cardinals in the World Series that year, and the Bears in the Super Bowl the following January. So that’s 33 seasons of baseball, NFL football, NBA basketball, and college basketball, the four sports that I’ve followed most closely at various points in my life.And in 132 seasons my favorite team has won the championship exactly twice: the 1985 Bears and the 2016 Cubs. I rooted against the Bulls in the 1990s. I don’t care at all about hockey. And I’ve never been a bandwagon fan. So I’m left with two championships in 132 seasons.That leaves 130 seasons of disappointment.Being a sports fan is almost guaranteed to end in disappointment. If you’re lucky, that disappointment manifests in a defeat in the championship game. But more likely it’s a slow unraveling of hope. A loss here. Another loss there. Wins by other teams. A sometimes-excruciating process. Death by a thousand cuts.The season’s over, and your team didn’t win the championship.Yet we remain fans. And we do so because, if you’re lucky, every once in a while your team will have a season like the 2016 season for the Chicago Cubs.And if you’re even luckier, the company you’re with will be so good that the game won’t even matter.Wasn't that well-written and fun to read? You should subscribe to my blog and we'll send you an e-mail every time I write a new one. Type your email address in the box and click the "create subscription" button. My list is completely spam free, and you can opt out at any time.
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