Just got done reading Bill Simmons excellent book called "Now I Can Die In Peace," the collection of columns he wrote about the Boston Red Sox leading up to their improbable 2004 World Series title.
Simmons has a sickness called being a sports fanatic, and at one time I had it. Perhaps because I moved so much I never really adopted one official team, though if pressed I'd have to say my beloved Montreal Canadiens and Expos were my passions, since I spent a few years growing up in Montreal.
But I lived in Ontario and got attached to the Leafs and Blue Jays. In 1992, I hid behind my couch when Mike Timlin fielded Otis Nixon's bunt, held my breath for what seemed like an eternity, then finally exploded when Timlin threw him out to give the Jays the World Series. The next year, I again hid behind my couch until Joe Carter launched Wild Thing's meatball into the left field bleachers, then went out into the street and screamed with joy.
Did I mention I was living in Michigan and my Tiger-loving neighbors wanted to kill me?
I grew attached to the Red Wings living in Michigan, but of course they didn't break their Stanley Cup futility until I moved to Quincy.
I cannot root for St. Louis teams. If you grew up around here, I understand it and you have my respect. But I hated Mark McGwire and all the "He and Sammy saved baseball" BS, and Cardinal fans are a bunch of crybabies. They just won the World Series, and yet two months into the 2007 season all they do is bitch about their current team.
The Blues? HAHAHAHA! And if you think John Davidson and Co. will turn it around, well ... dream on.
I actually like the Rams because of the Kurt Warner thing, but those days are long gone and they are back to being average again.
Chicago? Forget it. Love the Cubs, hapless as they are. Hate the White Sox, especially because of their inept and annoying announcers. Bears? Ugh. Blackhawks? Like 'em because my teams always beat them. Bulls? Prolonged their series tonight with the Pistons, which is good, because the Pistons shouldn't be sitting around waiting for Cleveland and New Jersey to finish bashing each other's brains in.
Tonight Anaheim beat Detroit in overtime, a crushing loss for the Wings, to tie the series at 1-1.
I just turned off the TV and finished by Simmons book. It didn't have much of an effect at all.
Still play softball, still smack that stupid little white ball around the golf course. Haven't hooped it up in a few years, but I spend my summers working for Gus and that takes care of the basketball Jones.
But it was a lot more fun when I was 14 and cheered for my beloved Habs, even as my classmates in London, Ont., ridiculed me. And I miss having that passion.
Miss it a lot.