Sports Memories

While falling asleep the other night, I suddenly found myself visually recalling a sporting event from years ago. The specific image isn't important. What matters is that I got a "hit" from the memory, almost as if I were a spectator at a live event.

In the days before I began this journey of kicking my sports addiction, I probably would have happily watched the memory. But now, I shook my head and turned it off, just as I do when a sports report pops up on TV or radio.

But now I realize that staying sober isn't just about avoiding the temptations out there. I have discovered an addiction mindfield within. Just as certain media are offlimits, areas of my brain must now be avoided.

For example, when I hear the date "1954," I think of Willie Mays making the celebrated World Series catch that sank my Cleveland Indians. Dates like that can be dangerous triggers for people like me who want to live sports-free.

Sound of Temptation

Yesterday, I walked passed a parked car whose radio was tuned to a baseball game. I didn't hear any details. But ust the rhythm of the sportcaster's voice and the ambience of the crowd gave me a warm feeling. Instantly, I was transported to summer afternoons, long ago, in Cleveland, when we lazed about in the backyard or on the front porch, listening to the Indians broadcast.

I don't remember much about my life then, but I do remember that the main sponsor was a beer called Erin Brew. I didn't like beer then, but I liked the commercials and the patter.

So yesterday, for a moment, I felt like drawing close to the car and taking in a "whiff" of the game. The hunger for a bit of nostalgia was strong. But then I realized what I was doing, seeking a quick spectator fix.

I turned and walked away. Close call.

A Biographical Fix

My eye fell upon a Yahoo! headline: "Gone too fast." I clicked on the link and discovered that the story was about Diego Corrales, a former boxing champion who had been killed in a motorcycle accident. Mr. Corrales was 29.

I wanted to read about his life and death, but I wondered if I was just trying to get a sports hit. After all, boxing is one of the most ancient and universal contests. In another post, I mentioned our family's tradition--back in the 1950s--of watching Saturday Night Fights on a tiny black and white screen. (Howard Cosell might have beeen on the announcing team.)

Back to the story of Mr. Corrales: Uncertain whether to read it or not, I solicited the opinion of my wife. It's not just that she's smarter or more ethical than me. Because she's never had a sports watching addiction, her opinion counts for something. She said: "Reading about a man's life is different from reading an account of a sporting event. You may read the piece."

The story, by Kevin Iole, includes the following three paragraphs:

"Only two years earlier in the Mandalay Bay Events Center, Corrales was the victor in a brawl with Jose Luis Castillo in a lightweight title unification match that was unsurpassed in boxing history for its savagery.

"But what made the fight so memorable was its sensational and unexpected ending. With his left eye closed, his face a grotesque lump of welts, Corrales dragged himself from the mat after a pair of 10th-round knockdowns to rally and stop Castillo.

"It was his finest moment, one of the finest in boxing history."

I'm going to confess: Those 91 words gave me a jolt. If it had been a shot of heroin and not a dose of reportage, I'd have been sky high.

Does this make my wife wrong? No. How could she understand the feelings of an addict. I have learned my lesson. Sports biography is a forbidden genre. Maybe I'll find a dramatic story about the death of a jazz musician or a teacher or a farmer...

Spousal Warning

When I came into the living room early this morning, I noticed the morning newspaper which lay on a table. Roberta shouted, "Don't look at the front page!"

I averted my eyes and never did see the offending article. Had some major sports figure been arrested or killed? Were the San Francisco Forty-niners finally going to get a new stadium? Did the Golden State Warriors win the playoff series and advance to the next level?

Now it's late at night. I am slightly curious about the sports news that I didn't learn about. Would it compromise my journey to ask my wife what horror she had saved me from?

The answer to that question can't be found in the rule book, because there is no rule book for breaking a sporting addiction. A person simply must look deep inside.

I think I'll go to bed.

When to Quit

Friends wonder: Why quit watching now? Sports addicts around here are going nuts with all the news: The Warriors have finally made the playoffs .Barry Bond's is chasing the home run record. And the 49ers are poised for a return to glory.

So much spectating to do. So many memorable moments not to be missed.

But doesn't that make this the BEST time to quit? After all, even the most addicted fan will turn off the set when the home team bumbles its way to defeat. That proves nothing.

The true test of one's desire to break free of sports addiction is when the "good stuff" is served up. In the days and weeks ahead, with Bonds challenging Aaron, and the Warriors making the post season, and the 49ers aiming for the Super Bowl, I hope my one and only response will be:

"Hell no. I won't watch!"

Day 2: No sports

Driving to work, I almost hit the button for my favorite Sportstalk radio show, "Rhome Is Burning." But I caught myself and instead listened to a recorded book, a biography of Jane Austin.

After dinner, I tuned in a newstalk radio program. The host Gene Burns was badmouthing the British sailors who acted unheroically--as Gene viewed it--in turning their boat over to the Iranians. Gene said that the sailors should have given up their lives to save the boat, and he referenced several heroes such as John McCain and Audie Murphy. I emailed Gene to say that England wasn't at war with Iran, hence the sailor should be judged differently. Gene read my email on the air. But he wasn't persuaded.

Later, I realized that I tend to use newstalk as a surrogate for sports, and maybe I'll need to give it up along with traditional spectator sports. But I suppose a difference is that the newstalk format allows authentic involvement. After all, we are a government of the people, and one of the things the people should do is debate issues that affect the country. Very different from a fan debating whether or not a certain pitcher should be dropped from the starting rotation. Managers don't care at all about the fans' opinions.

No More Sports Spectating

I am a spectator sport addict. My addiction is not particularly extreme. Over the years, I've probably spent--wasted--10 hours a week on average watching, listening to, and/or reading about the exploits of pro athletes.

No more! Starting today, I will not watch professional sports live or on TV. I will not listen to broadcasts nor read about games and players online or in newspapers. I will not discuss sports with friends.

I will engage in sports actively--basketball, biking, whatever--but that is something totally different.

I should have quit spectating long ago. Actually, I tried to give it up in the 1990s, but my best friend bought season tickets to the S.F. Giants and the S.F. Forty-niners. I felt it was in poor taste to turn down his many invitations to join him at games (he had terrific seats). Now I realize that taste had nothing to do with it. I was hooked. If I didn't go to games with him, I watched them through the media. I thought about sports often and felt excited when the local teams did well, and felt bummed when they failed. I used sports as a conversation crutch, and I turned to sports for consolation when I was disappointed with my own life.

Going cold turkey will be tough. For example, this is the year that Barry Bonds will likely become the all-time home run champ. In days gone by, I'd devote a lot of time and attention to his pursuit of Hank Aaron's record. But if it weren't Barry, there'd be something else. I know it. Addicts always find a reason to go to their drug.

Of course, even if I'm strong, avoiding sports won't be easy, not in our culture. Often, sports news is teased on the front page of our newspaper. And two powerful radio stations are devoted to sports. When I visit the Yahoo! home page, there's also a link to sporting news. Today, I was greeted by a photo of a guy who beat Tiger. I quickly clicked out of there, but for that moment, I caught the whiff of it and was nearly drawn in.

Still, I think I can live without spectator sports. Hopefully, I'll eventually not even notice that March is a time for madness, or that the "boys of summer" are hard at work.

I'll give my reasons for breaking the addiction next time.