I'm not interested in watching adults play children's ball games. Fortunately, none of my friends are interested in that kind of thing, either. The sports we enjoy are those we actually participate in ourselves. If I did have a "sports" watching friend, I'm afraid I would be the hapless gentlemen in this edition of Wondermark:
The Rittmaster and I have a discussion from time to time that revolves around the average American's obsession with ball teams, and especially the way so many people seem to personalize their fascination with a group of grown men (usually) being paid zillions of dollars to throw a ball around. "We never should have traded so-and-so!", they say, or "We're at such-and-such place in the series!" Um, what's this "we"? They don't know you and you probably don't know any of them personally. You're a face in the stands or, even more remotely, in front of a TV. More importantly to them, you're just a means to a paycheck. Not only that, but gone are the days when a ball team was actually made up of local chaps actually representing their local population base. I suppose I could see getting all het up about a college team (even though I never made it to a game when I was in college...too busy with much more interesting pursuits like boats and books), or an actual home-town grassroots league thing...but pro "sports"? Not so much.