2020 taught us that it was never the winning or the losing that we love about sports
This day one year ago my oldest brother, Frank, had eight more days to live.
This day one year ago we all had about 70 more days to live the way we know it.
Our collective complaints in 2020 knows no end, but as I replay my final conversation with Frank in his hospital bed the day after Christmas in 2019, I am only fairly certain he would gladly take the stream of bad days that awaited us.
For many of us, 2020 was the worst. Lost lives. Lost jobs. Financial ruin.
For many of us, 2020 was more of an annoyance and inconvenience disguised as daily tragedies shrouded in toilet paper.
Aspiring not to have cancer should not be life’s gold standard, but as an unforgettable 2020 comes to its merciful conclusion, it should force us all to acknowledge what we appreciate about everything, including something as benign as sports.
Like almost everything else in our lives, 2020 put sports in its proper place.
One of the reasons we are drawn to sports is the simplicity of the clear lines drawn by a final score. We love the ease of it. A winner. A loser.
2020 took the game away, and suddenly the winner became the loser. Because they were always the same.
Sports was never about winning or losing, but whether you play.
As much as I loathe participation trophies, everyone who played sports in 2020 should be handed the exact same piece of hardware.
That goes for Los Angeles Dodgers, who won the 2020 World Series, the 2020 Stanley Cup champion Tampa Bay Lightning, to the men and women who used cinder blocks and cans of paint to workout in their garage.
The amount of effort required to play a single game in any sport, or do anything other than go for a run or bike ride, in 2020 was ample reason to retreat to the couch and scroll for the next Tiger King.
Remember Tiger King?
The prolonged, and unprecedented, absence of sports forced us all to either figure it out, or find a different alternative.
Most of us did both, and there will be some who never go back to their previous routine, which may include the reduction of consuming sports.
Most of us will return because what we missed isn’t winning or losing, but merely participating.
Because of the shared experience of playing the game with someone we love, or even despise. Because of the shared experience of just watching the game with friends, or the strangers around us in the stands.
For 10 years I played pickup basketball with mostly the same group of guys. Haven’t seen them since the middle of March. Shot a ball maybe 10 times since then. (Made all 10.)
While I found other means to workout and exercise, and my body feels exponentially better as a result from not playing basketball, I’d play today if it was all clear.
And I am not good at playing basketball.
Sports is like every other cliche in life; from losing a brother, to a canceled game, you don’t know the scale of what you had until they’re gone.
2020 is just about finished but the lessons gleaned from this year should be eternal.
For most of us all of these “bad days” weren’t that bad, and what we missed the most about sports is not celebrating the winner.
It’s not bemoaning the loser.
It’s just the playing.
Game on, 2021.
