Now more than ever, I need athletes to go places and do cool things so that I might live vicariously through them
A practice field at the Los Angeles Dodgers and Chicago White Sox spring training facility, Camelback Ranch in Glendale, Arizona, on April 7, 2020. Photo: Christian Petersen/Getty Images
There are still no sports on. I’m aware that we’re merely at the beginning of an extended sports blackout and that the lack of televised sports right now is piddly shit compared to five figure body counts, millions of lost jobs, and watching the economy burn to a crisp in real time.
But, holy fuck, if sports don’t come back soon I will take a header off the American Legion Bridge. The NCAA tourney final was supposed to be April 6. Obviously I’m relieved that I don’t have to see Duke win anything for any reason, but the first weekend of the tourney is the best weekend in sports every year and also doubles as an unofficial welcome to spring. I didn’t get any of that. Is it spring yet? No one is drinking beer on a bar rooftop—I can’t fucking tell!
The Masters was supposed to start tomorrow, with Tiger Woods defending his title after staging one of the greatest existential comebacks in sports history a year ago. But Augusta National — whose leaders would normally rather watch their own grandchildren die in front of them than alter any of their hallowed traditions — postponed the tournament. Of all the sports that could potentially stage live events without crowds or physical contact, golf would probably have the easiest go of it. Shit, avoiding other people is why men golf to begin with. But the Masters decided to exercise a shocking (for them) bit of caution and put everything on hold.
They are not alone. The NBA and NHL are also on hold. And, really, these postponements are mere prelude to cancellation. The commissioners of those leagues, who met with Donald Trump over the weekend for an excursion through the reality-averse mind of our current president, almost certainly know their seasons are lost. They simply aren’t prepared to announce it.
And I’m not ready for them to. I’m fucking dying here. When I sit in my chair after a hard day’s blogging, I still flip right to ESPN, expecting to see either some basketball or at least Stephen A. Smith explaining why the Knicks belong in hell. I still have all my dad reflexes intact in that way. Instead, I see old sports. I was around for the advent of ESPN Classic in 1995 (then an independently owned venture called the Classic Sports Network), and I remember thinking to myself at the time, Fuck yeah. Now I can watch great sports any time I want to! But no. That’s not how it works. I get irritable if I’m watching a game that’s five minutes old on my DVR. Old games are useless to me. I require fresh, live action. The beast must be fed.
Like most fans, I have circadian rhythms that adhere to the traditional sports calendar. The tourney and the Masters and Opening Day mean spring. The NBA Finals mean June. Football and the World Series mean fall. I need these events to come and go so that my body clock recognizes where the fuck I am in spacetime. Without them, I have lapsed into Sports Affect Disorder. What am I supposed to watch while I eat these takeout wings? Netflix? Fuck you.
I know that pro wrestling is still around. I could have watched Wrestlemania this weekend for free if I had wanted to. And it’s not as if Vince McMahon gave a shit about the health of his employees before this all happened. But I already tried watching All Elite Wrestling one night, staged live with no crowd in attendance. Unless you’re a wrestling person — and we all know one — empty arena pro wrestling is interesting for 10 minutes as an art project, and then it’s depressing. Also, wrestling is its own thing. It’s real and it’s not real, and I need the realest sports possible at the moment.
I also know that esports are still happening live. I can even bet on them if I want to. But I’m 43, which means I am a full generation behind when it comes to accepting esports as legit. Why would I watch these assholes play video games when I can just do it myself? How much can JerAx bench anyway?! Again, not real enough. The only real sport still in operation is UFC, which has fulfilled its destiny as the official sport of the alt-right by blithely circumventing state laws and general health practices to keep fighters fighting so that Dana White can keep making money. I fucking hate White and I hate UFC.
I miss takes! You know how nice it is to see a garden variety bad sports take these days? Every take out there right now is either, “Actually, letting 250,000 die is just the boost our economy needs,” or “As Democrats, we need to look for payroll tax solutions to this crisis rather than pointing fingers at the guy who wants to let 250,000 people die.” So when Rex Ryan gets on TV and calls Dallas Cowboys wideout Amari Cooper a “turd” — an opinion that is both wrong and wholly irrelevant to what is going on right now — I smile like I’ve just been handed a plate of chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven. God, I need all the idiot sports people back in my life. I swear I’ll never say a bad word about Mark Schlereth ever again if he gets to go back to work (Note: I am lying).
I am not alone in my desperation. The people in charge of our sports recognize this, which is why they’re still feverishly attempting to work out ways to play games in a vacuum. Baseball is thinking about starting the season next month exclusively within the confines of Arizona. The English Premier League, which is based in a country whose prime minister may still be hospitalized with coronavirus by the time you read this, wants to resume play in June. The Chinese Basketball League is rebooting soon, and one team plans on having mannequins in the stands. And the NHL is fucking around with spending all season in North Dakota. After all, you can’t get the virus if you’re hanging out in a state that has no people in it.
These are plans that are fanciful at best and irresponsible at worst. If any of those sports do come back too soon, they could be putting players, coaches, and game officials at risk. Even worse, they could be putting background workers — stadium crews, TV crews, equipment managers, and more — at an even greater risk. It would be immoral to watch that shit.
Oh, but I would. I would 1000% watch the Premier League play out the garbage time of its season inside an abandoned mayonnaise factory if they broadcast it live. I, along with 60 million other Americans, am already hellbent on watching the NFL hold their draft via conference call later this spring. And if the NFL charges ahead with their plan to start the season on time with fans in attendance, I’ll watch that too. (Side note: If football season ends up scuttled, Democrats could beat Trump simply by campaigning on the message that he stole football from everyone; they will be too fucking stupid to do this.) I wanna live my values, but right now, I am so hard up for live sports that I would fight a horse just to see Patrick Mahomes take the field, any field, again. I am powerless to resist.
You know I can’t even play sports right now? I mean, I can play Madden and lose. I can also play catch with my kids. But we can’t invite other kids over to join in. We can’t play it in a park. We can’t play it at my parents’ house. We can’t go anywhere or do anything. And so, now more than ever, I am dying for athletes to go places and do cool things so that I might live vicariously through them. I’m not gonna demand sports come back because that’s dangerous. But if they do? I will do a fucking cartwheel. It won’t be an impressive cartwheel. But then again, I’m not a pro athlete, so how would you see it?