by Karen Telleen-Lawton, Noozhawk Columnist, Read the original column at Noozhawk.com
I’m not a particularly loyal professional sports fan, but I was all in for the Dodgers. My husband Dave and I drove down to South Pasadena on the day baseball’s World Series Game 1, the USC football game, and a Lakers’ basketball game coincided in downtown L.A.
Our willingness to drive through potential “Carmageddon” to babysit our grandkids allowed our daughter and son-in-law to accept a friend’s invitation to attend Game 1.
What a game it was! After a trail of somewhat lackluster innings (it was baseball, after all), the grandkids and we screamed joyfully and pranced around the room at the first-ever walk off grand slam finish to a World Series. Their parents sent deafening videos of the uproar inside the stadium.
Just as Freddie Freeman was approaching the plate for his historic at-bat, one gushing commentator observed that this was what every baseball-playing kid dreamed of: playing in the World Series, at bat with the bases loaded, two outs.
Not me. I was stressed out just watching it, never mind if tens of thousands of people were watching. Maybe that’s why, though I love participating in sports, I ended up as a fan and not a competitor.
Over half a century ago, I was the fastest girl runner in junior high. I had the muscular calves to prove it, though muscles were not a popular feature for girls then.
In fact, one of my worst memories from that time is of a popular girl who approached me to ask, “Why don’t you wear knee socks like the rest of us?”
I didn’t reveal the truth, which was that my mom advised me to wear low socks so as not to accentuate my thick calves.
My high school offered only tennis and swimming for girls. I played on the tennis team, near the bottom.
During my senior year, our school was invited to compete in a girls track meet. I was thrilled to be included in the relay. We won the race and came in first in the meet — of the schools that did not have girls’ track teams. I cherish this memory like an old letterman jacket in my mind’s closet.
Recently, I accompanied Dave to his 50th high school reunion in Chicago. The principal gave us a comprehensive tour of the school. Chatting with Dave’s classmates, I expressed envy at their sumptuous athletic facility.
Recalling my high school experience, I rued the pre-Title IX absence of girls’ sports or facilities. To my surprise and embarrassment, one classmate retorted angrily, “Why didn’t you girls just go hire your own coach?”
Sports can be as fraught with underlying politics as anything else these days. College leagues fling student athletes across the country to play instead of attend classes. College sports mimic professional leagues’ paid athletes and multiple switching of teams.
Sports concerns are the tail that wag many universities’ budgets. Add more betting and doping, and you’ve reached professional sports levels.
Why would cities be loyal to teams with these dark issues abound? Why would residents be loyal to players purchased from faraway towns and countries, or to any player when he might be traded away the next season?
Yet, there was the elation of crowds, not only at the stadium but in homes and offices across Southern California. I was one of them.
A radio commentator enthused, “You’ll never forget where you were, who you were with this night!”
That sounds over the top, but maybe our loyalty is because, when we’re so divided in so many ways, we can still “Root, root, root” for our home team.
Karen Telleen-Lawton, Noozhawk Columnist
Karen Telleen-Lawton is an eco-writer, sharing information and insights about economics and ecology, finances and the environment. Having recently retired from financial planning and advising, she spends more time exploring the outdoors — and reading and writing about it. The opinions expressed are her own.