Sports Taught me How to Sew

Sometimes Kathy asks me how I can fit so much sports knowledge into my mind.  The thing that she doesn't understand is that, for me, it takes no effort at all.  Statistics, team names, jersey numbers, past champions, batting orders of Double A baseball teams, are flies and my mind is fly paper.  I, like many Americans, watch soccer for a month once every four years.  This, however, does not keep me from being fairly conversant when it comes to the World Cup.  I have a decent knowledge of the rules, who's good, who's bad, how the game should be played etc.  This quality (if you can call it that) is mostly innate.

Part of what is implied in Kathy's question, is what I would be capable of if 80% of my brain was not devoted to sports.  Could I be be a more well-rounded person?  I think the answer is yes and no.  Yes, because this innate skill probably leads me to watch, read about, and ponder sports even more when I could be studying more useful, meaningful things.  But the answer is also no because this knowledge exists in the same part of my brain as phone numbers, song lyrics, and old locker combinations.  Let's just say that the world is probably not missing any cures to rare diseases because I can name the jersey number of most NBA basketball players from 1990-2010.  In fact, I might even argue that there are things about following sports so closely that make me a more well-rounded person.  (I may make this into a list at some point, but the following is just one example.)

For the past week, or so,  I have been enjoying the World Cup.  I love watching the World Cup: the cultures, the colors, the games, the passion.  This one is of particular importance to me as it is being held South Africa.  In 2003, I traveled to South Africa as a college student.  I fell in love with the country: its diversity of people and geography.  It was an experience that has had a profound influence on my life and faith.  I was exposed to despair and hope, injustice and reconciliation.  I became aware of similar injustices in my own country.  I became aware of a world that was not shaped only by my worldview and what was best for me.  I became aware of God in new and more significant ways.

This World Cup has made me reflect on some of those experiences.  It has also made extremely excited to root for South Africa, as a soccer team, but perhaps more importantly as a host nation.  As the build up to the Cup began, I grew tired of hearing about the crime and poor infrastructure.  Yes, South Africa has its struggles, but these do not define the nation, and what nation does not have its struggles?  The suggestion was that this was not a suitable nation to host such a monumental event.  It was as though South Africa (and possibly Africa as a whole) was not ready to be taken seriously on an international level.  For this reason, I have rooted hard for South Africa as host.  And this led me to my dresser drawer.

When I was in South Africa, I bought a patch of their flag.  For seven years, that patch sat in a drawer, partly because I didn't know what to put it on, but primarily because I don't know how to sew, and I haven't been ambitious enough to learn.  Kathy is an accomplished sewer (having spent years in 4-H, she epitomizes the well-rounded human being, who cannot only sew her own clothes, but also show pigs), but Kathy was not home.  So I went to the drawer, pulled out the patch and a seed corn hat and taught myself how to sew.  And that is (among other things) how sports has made me a more well-rounded person.  The World Cup taught me how to sew.

Here is the finished product:

Big 8? 12? 10? Who's Counting?

I moved to Nebraska in 1994.  The Cornhuskers football team proceeded to win the next two National Championships as a member of the Big Eight Conference.  Two years later they joined the Big Twelve Conference.  And now 14 years later they are becoming the twelfth team in the Big Ten Conference.  I think I just set a record for most even numbers in a paragraph.  Here is my two cents on the Huskers' big move.

My thoughts begin, strangely enough, with the Stanley Cup.  The Chicago Blackhawks hoisted the trophy for the first time in 49 years this week.  As I watched each player hold the cup, kiss the cup, take pictures with their kids and the cup, I was struck by their singular sense of purpose.  Every player there had dreamed about this moment.  This silver cup represented everything they had ever worked for.  College football lacks this singular sense of purpose, it always has, and it always will.

The Husker moved to the Big Ten for reasons of money, athletics, and academics, probably in that order.  However the three are strangely interwoven.  What is the purpose of a college football team?  To support the university financially?  To create school spirit?  To prepare the majority of athletes who will "go pro in something other than sports" for their careers? To win a national championship?  To win the BCS?  To win the coaches poll?  To beat the Buckeyes?  To uphold academic standards?  To prepare their exceptional student-athletes for professional sports?  To secure television contracts?  To give the marching band a venue?  To give me something to do on Saturday afternoons?  To give sports writers endless material?  Yes, the correct answer is all of the above.

This is why I resist any moralizing when it comes to discussing college sports.  Money, athletics, and academics sometimes work symbiotically, but for the most part are at odds.  I am not suggesting that schools should operate outside the rules, but I am not surprised that they do given the multiple purposes of Division I college athletics.  So without getting into the nitty gritty things that I know little about, I love this move for the Cornhuskers for the following reasons.

1.  It seems like a good fit.  The Huskers fit in geograpically (somewhere in middle America).  They fit in academically (a team that takes pride in their academic all-Americans).  They fit in stylistically (smash mouth, run the football, play good defense).

2.  They need a change of scenery.  Texas and Oklahoma quickly made the old option Huskers obsolete.  Then Bill Callahan systematically destroyed the Huskers.  Bo Pellini has done a fantastic job of restoring the program, but in general the Big Twelve has not been full of great memories for the Huskers.  As Tom Osborne guides this move they will keep the tradition, but continue their fresh start.

3.  The Big Ten will be home to four of the finest uniforms in all of sports.  Penn State, Michigan, Ohio State, and Nebraska.  Sometimes less is more.  A yearly Penn State vs. Nebraska matchup may be the most aesthetically pleasing game in sports.

4.  Selfishly, I will see them a lot more.  I have lived in Big Ten country for 10 years now.  It has been hard to be a Husker fan when I only see them once a year.  The Gophers opened a brand new stadium last year.  Though I was interested as a sports fan, I didn't make it to a game.  I can almost guarantee I'll be there the first time the Huskers come to town.  Of the teams I am loyal to, my love for the Huskers, and thus college football, has waned the most.  I am excited to embrace college football again.

5.  I have already received an outpouring of welcome and smack talk from friends who root for Big Ten teams.  Having lived in Big Ten country for 10 years, the majority of my friends root for these teams.  I love that they are already rooting against the Huskers.  I love the idea of watching games with them.  They will make me raise my game as a fan.

Now, I am not informed enough to know how the move will affect all of college football, but from some of the rumors I hear, this is what I hope does or doesn't happen.

1.  I hope these super conferences don't form.  It sound like these super conferences would be a step toward a playoff system which I support, but I think rivalries are too important to have conferences made up of teams that won't play each other all that often.

2.  I hope the Big 12 doesn't disappear.  Texas and Oklahoma seem like strong enough schools to anchor a conference.  I would love to see teams like TCU or Utah join.  It would be great if the shuffle allowed more teams to join power conferences.

3.  I don't care about Notre Dame.  Take 'em.  Leave 'em.  They haven't been relevant since Rocket Ismail.


Sixteen years ago, I went to my first Husker game at Memorial Stadium.  I remember the sea of red.  I remember getting goosebumps as the team ran out of the tunnel.  I joined a group of fans that I consider to be the best in the country.  For the last several years my passion for the Huskers has waned.  Honestly, this may have been the only way to get me back.  Look for me in Husker red on game days next year.  It's been too long.

The Strongly Dislike List

Today's follow up blog to last week's love list couldn't come at a better time.  On Thursday night, my beloved Celtics take on one of my least favorite teams in all of sports, the Los Angeles Lakers, in the first game of the NBA Finals.  There are many reasons that I don't like the Lakers and most of them don't have to do with their rivalry from the mid-80s (I was pretty young then, and enjoyed both Magic and Larry, I hadn't sorted out my loyalties yet).

I am against hatred in all forms, but I think part of what makes sports fun is getting a chance to root against other teams.  I never wish ill on particular players, I don't wish injuries on players, but because I want my team to win, I am free to root against the other team.  And perhaps the most fun thing, is you don't even need a good reason to dislike a team.  In sports you have one team, and everyone else is the enemy in one way or another.  So while I could come up with only ten legitimate reasons for loving a team, I doubt that I could ever exhaust the list of reasons to dislike a team, but I'll take a crack at it.

1.  Historical rivalry.  This is pretty cut and dry.  If you like Duke you must dislike North Carolina.  If you like Ohio State you must dislike Michigan.  If you like the Red Sox you must dislike the Yankees.  If you like North Park you must dislike Wheaton. 

2.  Divisonal rivalry.  Because you play these teams multiple times a year these games are more important than other, thus increasing the level of dislike.  Also you get sick of their colors, and traditions, and fans, because you see them so much.

3.  They beat your team in a meaningful game.   The Cowboys, Redskins, and Giants are not traditional rivals of the Bills, but they are my least favorite football teams because of what they did to the Bill in the Super Bowl when I was the tender age of 8...and then 9....and then 10....and then 11. 

4.  Money.  Nobody outside of New York likes the Yankees because they seem to circumvent the need strategy and management by outspending everyone.  It's like shooting fish in a barrel, and no one likes a guy who goes around shooting fish in a barrel.

5.  Overexposure.  I am tempted to use the Yankees in every example here, but lets go with the Lakers.  The Lakers play in LA, have historically been great, have celebrity fans, have a celebrity coach, and the league's biggest star.  We hear about them constantly.  If I go to a sports store anywhere in the country they will have Lakers gear.  They are always a possible destination for the next big free agent.  (Yes, I realized that the Red Sox also fall under this category, and I don't blame you for hating them).

6.  Style.  Some teams are so boring, yet so successful, that we feel they are doing the sport a disservice by being successful.   Patrick Ewing's Knicks teams are the most popular example.  Rex Grossman's Bears qualify as well.

7.   Players.  I am careful about judging a player's personal life that I know little about (though it can be difficult to like teams whose players are in trouble all the time).  But I often dislike teams because their players' demeanor on the court or field.  Sometimes they seem selfish.  Sometimes they seem aloof.  Sometimes they whine too much.  Sometimes they yell at their teammates.  Sometimes they wear number 24 on the Lakers.  Sometimes they yell at fielders trying to catch fly balls.  Sometimes they slap balls out of fielder's gloves.  Sometimes they step on pitcher's mounds.  Sometimes they wear number 13 on the Yankees.  Sometimes they string everybody along as they contemplate retirement.  Sometimes they seem too hungry for the spotlight.  Sometimes they wear number 4 on the Vikings (I like the Vikings, but I can see why someone might not because of this fella.)

8.  Uniforms.  Again, you don't need a real reason to dislike a team.  Sorry Raptors, you just don't look good.  Same goes for you Marlins. 

9.  Region.  Sometimes we just lump teams together.  My friend Paul mentioned this in a comment on the previous post.  As a Steelers fan, he can't stand the Cleveland Browns.  He kind of likes the Cleveland Cavaliers, but doesn't quite feel right doing it.  The problem here is that divisional rivalries often pit cities in close proximity against one another, but there is an inherent affinity for one's own region of the country.  A Pittsburgh guy like Paul would rather see another rust-belt city win a title, than those hippy, beach bums in California.  And likewise those Californians, would probably rather see the Mariners win a World Series then those media darling, elitist Boston Red Sox.  This is especially prevalent in college sports, where people would rather see someone from their conference win a National Championship than someone from some other conference.  This feels like another blog for another time, and a little like rock, paper, scissors.

10.  Name.  Orlando Magic...ugh.

11.  They used to be our team.  Baltimore have good reason to dislike the Colts.  Cleveland has good reasons to dislike the Ravens.  Minnesota has good reasons to dislike the Lakers.  And Buffalo should be grateful that LA took the Clippers off their hands.  (Also, I can't wait to root against the Los Angeles Bills in a couple of season.)

12.  They stole our player.  It's ok for T'Wolves fans to dislike the Celtics, though I know some who continue to wish KG well and blame their own managment, which leads us to....

13.   I think I hate my own team.  This is perhaps the strongest kind of sports hatred and is especially prevalent among Cubs fans.

Alright, I should probably stop.  Please feel free to add to this list.  There is no wrong answer.