10 Feet on the West Side

Productive writing week. It helps that I haven’t read a single thing assigned to me for school. Or done any of my homework really. Anyway. We have one thing to talk about today. Sport.

Any of you live with a woman? Any of you live as a woman?

Women don’t get sports.

Let me rephrase, most women don’t get sports. Some women understand. Some women make that cross over, like any label you try to apply. There’s always a white guy who can dance.

But the women I live with, the women I know, those women? They don’t get it. Never have.

Okay let’s call a quick T, shall we? For those who are asking the obvious question: Why is Devin writing like that? Let me fill you in. I’m emulating my man Scoop. Scoop writes for ESPN.com and drops words like MJ drops reverse lay-ups. Like Tiger drops birdies. Like Lions receivers drop passes. So if you can’t follow this post, don’t fret. I’ll be back like my old self come next round.

And for those who are with me on Scoop, I know I’m pulling a backyard fantasy here. Like a little kid pretending to be DiMaggio, it just ain’t the same thing.

Okay, time in. Don’t misunderstand. I know female fans. My mom’s a fan. My roomate’s a fan. My friends’ are fans. But they’re not Fans.

So what’s the divide? What about Sports turns men and women into North and South Chicago?

I don’t know.

That’s right. I haven’t a clue. I’m fumbling in the dark. Looking like Zeke playing GM. Because I’m on one side. Through the looking glass. Trying to understand what I can’t understand.

How can you not be a Fan?

So all I can say is what I know. All I can preach is what I believe. The Gospel according to St. Gatorade: Sport is sport.

Sport is team. Sport is together. Sport is 5, 9, 11 players sharing a field. How many teachers, how many bosses, point to the Patriots when they want to embody TEAM. How many local high schools look to the Pistons to see what it means to Go to Work. Playing the Right Way, as LB would say. Playing as a team.

Team isn’t just working together. It’s Faith. It’s knowing I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine. It’s believing in each other. And finding the strength in each other to believe in yourselves.

And Sport is the curse of I. ME. Nobody but number 1. Kobe and Shaq? Makes you shake your head. Moss and Culpepper? What could have been.

But MJ and Scottie? Montana and Rice? What was. What is. What’s always going to be.

Sport is effort. Sport is all you have. On the field, when it counts. When it matters. How many kids look to the Fro. To Big Ben. To a man who couldn’t shoot enough to cut it. Wasn’t going to make it. But made it anyway. Built himself into the embodiment of effort. A shot-blocking, board-crashing, play-making machine. Sport is Every Night.

Lance riding 8 hours a day. MJ shooting his entire childhood. Peyton Manning watching film until dawn. Athletes playing hurt, playing battered, playing bruised and broken. Every Night.

And Sport is shortcuts. Steroids. Black Sox. BALCO. Shaved points. Boosters.

Sport is decisive. Sport is a winner. Sport is a loser. No questions. No uncertainty. One Trophy. One champion.

Life isn’t obvious. Life doesn’t tell you who won and lost. Life leaves you hanging. Life is subjective. But not sport. Sport is objectivity. USA wins. USSR loses. Lance wins. Everyone else loses. Red Sox win. Yankees lose.

And Sport is uncertainty. Sport is argument. Mays or Mantle? .406 or 56? Montana or Unitas? Gretzky or Gordie? The Tuck Rule? Figure skating judges. Asterisks on records. Make up calls. The steroid Era.

Sport is history. Sport is chasing ghosts. 60 home runs. 755 home runs. Batting 400. 56 straight. 100 points. 163 assists. 49-0. 18 majors. 511 wins. 7 tours.

And Sport is now. Sport is selling out. BCS. FedEx bowls. Boxers with Golden Palace tattoos. Ads. Hold-outs.

Sport is hope. Sport is the underdog. Pats down to St. Louis? Tom Brady’s here, the new Joe Cool. Down 4-1 coming into the bottom of the 9th? Don’t look now but Bobby Thompson has a bat. And a shot to be heard. The USSR can’t be beat? It’s a miracle.

Red Sox down 3-0? Let’s talk about that.

Let’s talk about fathers and sons. Let’s talk about people who can die happy. Relief. Hope. Hope that waited 80 years. Let’s talk about Fans. Fans. Who never stopped believing. And let’s talk about idiots. Idiots who didn’t know they were out of it.

And if you think that’s hope, how about New Orleans? How about the Saints shouldering the burden of America’s Team. The Hope of the people. A symbol that adversity is just adversity, and nothing can’t be done.

Let’s talk about cancer. Let’s talk about wondering if you’ll ever walk, much less ride. And let’s talk about 7 straight championships. A symbol. A leader. Wearing a yellow jersey, and a yellow bracelet to match.

How about Jim Abbott. No big records. Stats aren’t flashy. Just a run of the mill big league pitcher.

With one hand.

And Sport is disaster. Broken legs. Broken backs. Ruined careers. Ruined lives. Paralysis. Death.

Sport is Joy. Sport is Greatness. Sport is thousands of Fans, united as one. Sport is parents teaching kids how to bat. Sport is believing in next year, every year. Sport is student-athletes busting the books and the ball. Sport is men and women being everything they can be.

And Sport is Horror. Sport is Greed. Sport is players who care more about themselves than the game. Sport is little league coaches telling kids to throw inside. Sport is cheating. Sport is playing the wrong way. Sport is men and women being everything they shouldn’t be.

Sport is Life. Sport is Everything. Sport is Sport.

(originally written september 19th)