Baseball in Hiroshima

Last night I watched the HBO documentary about the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The movie is worth watching for many important reasons. But one unimportant scene caught my attention in relationship to this blog. One of the survivors is pictured enjoying a professional baseball game, laughing and cheering just the way Americans do when watching Major League Baseball.

I do not know if spectator sports were popular in Japan prior to WWII, but the image of the Japanese ballpark was so similar to what you see in American ballparks, I felt that this form of spectatorship was a "gift" of America to Japan. The Japanese survivor seemed to be having so much fun passively watching extraordinary athletes play the game.

In the context of the movie--about the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people--the issue of spectator sport addiction is nothing. But the documentary did remind me that the draw of watching is probably universal.

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.

Is Reading Spectating?

My major objection to spectator sports is its passivity. While the players play, the spectators are limited to watching, commenting, and...eating. Now, finally, I'm interested in being as active as the players. When it comes to athletics, I want to bike, swim, kick, throw, catch, and just generally put myself on the line.

But this brings up a question: Is reading to living as spectating is to playing? For example, last week I read John Le Carre's first novel, CALL FOR THE DEAD. In it, master spy George Smiley engages in a wide variety of actions: observing, planning, arguing, drinking, and even physical fighting. All the while, I lay on my back reading about George. I found myself wishing that I were a spy, but I wasn't doing anything remotely close to spying.

If the analogy holds--if reading is as passive as watching sports--perhaps I should give up reading and start living.

The Dipsea

The Dipsea foot race--occuring for nearly a century in Marin County California-- is the second-oldest running event in the U.S., right behind The Boston Marathon. Mike D., a friend of mine has has won five black shirts, emblamatic of finishing in the top 35--out of more than 1000 runners.

When I told Mike about this blog, at first he seemed displeased, as if I were against sports. "No," I told him, "I love sports. Humanity would be less human without sports. I'm against SPECTATOR sports that make viewers feel as if they have accomplished something when their teams win ("We're number 1!"), while making viewers feel sad when their teams lose.

In a race like The Dipsea, the runners involved put everything on the line. They spend months in training. They risk injury. They ask their bodies to perform feats that are truly amazing. I admire people who engage in sports, whether they win or lose.

Last Sunday, on the day of the Dipsea, I took a short hike in my neighborhood. I chose a path that includes a short but strenuous uphill climb--nothing nearlyy as challenging as the climbs in the Dipsea. I found myself breathing hard, wondering if I could make it to the top, realizing that I am not in good shape. I felt the sweat under my arms. I had to talk to myself, urging me to keep at it. When I reached the top of the hill, I found myself in awe of the thousand plus runners who, at that moment, were doing the Dipsea.

Playing sports is good. Investing hours watching other people playing sports is--in my opinion--a sad waste of the precious hours given to us.

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.