Why I love sports? Let me count the ways...

By Jeff Glauser
The Phanatic Magazine

My fiancé doesn’t understand. Neither does my mother. Nor countless others who don’t understand the true meaning of passion.

They don’t get why I yell at inanimate objects such as my television. Why the outcome of something as trivial as a game can affect my mood for the rest of the day (or, depending on the stakes, a full week).

They are baffled by how I can spend hours on end sifting through news and stats on the internet. Or how I can remember the career home run total for Mike Schmidt (548) but still have no clue how to compile my taxes.

And they certainly feel I should seek help for spending wads of cash on a make-believe team in a league that has the word “fantasy” in it.

But if they got it, they’d understand. To paraphrase “White Men Can’t Jump,” they may be able to hear Jimi, but they can’t listen. In other words, they may be able to see sports, but they can’t visualize.

So for all of you out there also struggling to help your significant other/parent/sibling/friend/coworker/accountant understand, I’ve compiled my own list of reasons why sports create so much passion:

- A no-hitter after six innings and the tension-filled excitement after each ensuing pitch.

- March Madness: The single most fun thing to know nothing about and gamble everything on.

- An underdog upset: A class David vs. Goliath matchup to give hope to the hopeless.

- Tailgating – barbeque, beer, washers and all – hours before gametime.

- A doubleheader on a lazy, sunny afternoon.

- Courtside seats.

- Ringside seats.

- Any venue seating over 100,000 people. The panoramic view looking around at the sea of endless people from a spot like Michigan Stadium (115,000 capacity) or Indianapolis Motor Speedway (Over 200,000).

- Seats up against the glass, taunting distance from the penalty box.

- Catching a foul ball.

- A buzzer-beating shot.

- Playoff overtime in hockey.

- A “home away from home” sports bar (Example: The Parrot in Fort Lauderdale, a Philly-owned bar on the beach where Delaware Valley expatriates flock to regularly any time a game is on. Plus, perhaps the best cheesesteaks south of the Mason-Dixie line).

- Super Bowl parties.

- Punts and kickoffs returned for touchdowns.

- Mammoth, measuring-tape home runs.

- And, finally, at long last, one I can finally speak for and understand firsthand: Championship parades!

So can you visualize yet?

(And did I miss any? Feel free to add on!)