Football is stupid.
At best, it’s a bunch of adults getting paid millions of dollars to play a child’s game.
At worst, it promotes tribalism and a rejection of “those other people.” The ones who live in another city, who support another team that’s not your team.
I live in Baltimore. It’s Raven’s country and I couldn’t care less even if you paid me. I regularly shock other locals when I tell them I just don’t follow sports.
I do not understand why Baltimore hates the Steelers? I don’t get how people can talk for hours about how bad the Ravens played and how the coach should be fired.
Years ago when I bartended in Baltimore, if the Ravens won, there would be celebration, jubilation, many drinks drank and many tips tipped. There was a feeling of joy, of family, of love. There was a sense among the fans that we were all in this together.
The Ravens would lead us all to greatness!
But if those same Ravens lost, the city would blanket itself in the heaviness of disappointment, depression, and emotional loss. People seemed less kind and less hopeful in general. Bars and nightclubs would suffer until the Ravens won again.
A friend of a friend had to have some alone time after a loss. He laid on his bed in the dark trying to make sense of it all.
I giggled at this. I felt smug.
I felt myself superior to all the dumbass football fans. Why would they let something so meaningless and insignificant to have such and impact on their mental and emotional well-being?
And then director Rian Johnson killed off Luke Skywalker in “The Last Jedi.”
And I wanted Johnson fired, if not imprisoned.
Now, I’m not going to spend ten paragraphs explaining why that’s the most bullsh*t thing ever done in a movie. And save your hate mail because I LOVE the female characters.
But I was sad. Devastated. And I left the theater with a hollow feeling in my chest.
I felt like shit over a movie.
I didn’t talk about it to a lot of people, because honestly when I would start to, I’d realize just how ridiculous I sounded. I thought I was a deeper person than someone who’d get upset at something as insignificant as a movie.
Not long after, I overheard two guys commiserating over a Raven’s loss. They were plotting and planning how to fix the team.
If only the team would listen to them.
And somehow something clicked in my brain.
I had a realization.
The Raven’s fans and I were the same. We were both preoccupied with suffering things of no real importance.
We were both clinging.
So, while I can never get behind the eyes of another person and truly experience their life or their perspective, I can at least identify and empathize with their suffering.
And wish them luck in the World Series.
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