I am NOT married to a Sports Addict
I am NOT married to a sports addict.
By Sarah Raymond Cunningham
www.sarahcunningham.org
Yes, I spend more time listening to ESPN commentators than I spend with my extended family, but I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, my husband receives three different sports weeklies–ESPN, Sports Illustrated and sometimes, Sports Weekly. (And yes, all of which must be kept in case the teams inside of them win some sort of championship, elevating them to collectable status.) But I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, we own several X-Box 360 games that involve playing virtual sports and yes, we rub it in for SIX YEARS that our wife scored an accidental safety in John Madden football back in 2003. But I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, my husband happens to be the proud owner of twelve different pairs of orange and blue mesh shorts, but each pair is different, you understand. One is their away jersey colors, one is the home colors, one has the double blue stripe, one has a solo line of blue piping. Ditto on the baseball hats. We have the new logo, the old school logo, the 80s logo, the solid, and the pinstriped. We belong to a frequent buyers club for hats which gets us a discount at chain locations. But I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, if we are not going to be home to see a game, we have to DVR it. And we have to set the DVR for a half an hour before the event and an hour after, just in case it starts early or runs late. We also can’t answer the phone or talk to anyone who might spoil the outcome of the game before we see it. We have to sing loudly to drown them out if they try to talk to us. But I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, we find a way to see games not broadcast in our area either by traveling to a sports bar, subscribing to a pay per view internet stream, or by discovering underground websites where people are uploading their own cable to the internet. While we are doing this, we of course minimize our Illini fan board page. We only trash talk with others sports fans during commercials.But I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, when we are watching the game is interrupted multiple times by phone calls and texts from various friends who are also watching the game and want to either celebrate with my husband or rub things in. (Note:When my husband’s team is losing really badly, we do not answer the phone. We do not even acknowledge the phone exists.) But I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, I have the scripts of Caddy Shack, White Men Can’t Jump, Hoosiers, Major League, the Natural, Field of Dreams, Fever Pitch, and several other movie’s memorized. I could complete the sentence “If you build it…” in my sleep. And yes, my husband and the groomsmen came out to the Rocky theme song at our wedding, but I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, we know exactly what spots in our county can receive Chicago sports coverage from our car antenna and yes, we are flexible to listen for bits of update through ten minute intervals of static. But I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, my husband is involved in three fantasy leagues and has to regularly sprint out of the room at emergency-speeds to change his roster when his corresponding real-life player is injured. And yes, we make sure to watch the REAL commentators on ESPN when they do their broadcasts on VIRTUAL leagues–because fantasy is legitimate news to millions of men who play, you know. But I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, we clear our schedules for the beginning of March Madness, draft days, Super Bowls, World Series, Final Four and anything else that has a theme song and thirty seconds or more airtime on ESPN. But I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, my husband’s ringtone is “Go, Cubs, Go”, and yes I get scowls like I’ve committed the unpardonable sin if I say “home team” instead of “cubbies” in “Take Me Out To The Ballgame”, but I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, my husband plays in a basketball league which he must drive out of state to participate in. And yes, he go to open gyms to just sit there and do no coaching (athletic regulations) for a sport season that doesn’t really start until the spring. But I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, when my son was born, we received 12 Chicago Cubs outfits, 8 Fighting Illini outfits, 6 Chicago Bears outfits–literal numbers. And I bet I’m not supposed to call them outfits. They are probably technically uniforms or jerseys, someone who doesn’t have a sports addiction might say. But I don’t know who would correct me, because I am not married to a sports addict.
Yes, my husband goes to regular season games, training camps, and championships–all of which are proposed as once in a lifetime opportunities–as well as “extra-curricular” events like the Cubs Expo where we pay $70 to stand in line and meet players. And we get their autographs for the paraphernalia in our Chicago Cubs room, which has royal blue walls and a red pillar and is currently still flying the W Flag from their last win. But I am not married to a sports addict.
I am not married to a sports addict, my husband assures me. Rather it is that I have the rare privilege of being married to a REAL fan.
Please feel free to forward this to your friends who are “not” sports addicts. About the author: When Sarah is not in the bleachers watching her husband’s sports events, she is in her living room watching them on ESPN. In her time away from the field, she writes books like her upcoming memoir, Picking Dandelions, available for pre-order at Amazon.Com. Find Sarah on Facebook or Twitter to follow more blogs like this one.