Superb Owl

So, apparently, there was this big important football game on yesterday.

While it seems like everyone other person in the country was glued to their TVs, I was also glued to my TV…although in my case I was watching The Empire Strikes Back.

As I’ve mentioned before, I was born without the competitiveness gene. Oh, I can be competitive if I’m competing for a job or something that’s going to actually make a difference in my life… but sporting events are so low on my radar that the blip isn’t visible with the naked eye.

When it comes to any sort of game, I couldn’t care less. I mean, I like to win, but I don’t get some huge rush if I do, or actually care if I lose. For some strange reason, getting beaten at Scrabble doesn’t put a downer on my day and being able to kick a ball harder and further than someone else doesn’t fill me with pride.

I also find it really difficult to get that invested in something I have no active part in.

Back in England, I remember watching family and friends get really worked up when their team won a soccer match. I distinctly remember an uncle standing with his hands over his head proclaiming “WE WON.”

We? We? You’re claiming a part of this victory? You’re absolutely right. If you hadn’t helped the team in the critical “Shouting at the TV” position, they never would have made it.

One of my brother’s friends was particularly bad about it. He’d plan his day based on whether the soccer team he supported won or lost. I lost count of the number of times he’d be planning to go out for the night, then cancel if his team lost.

I can’t imagine allowing the success or failure of a group of men trying to shepherd a bit of leather into an outdoor cupboard to effect my emotions that much. “Hey, a group of guys I’ve never met turned out to be slightly better at kicking a ball into a net than another group of guys I’ve never met. I’m too depressed to go out. Leave me to wallow in my misery.”

Basically the part of my brain that’s supposed to release endorphins when I win and stress hormones when I lose doesn’t function…and when you don’t have that competitive streak, you realize just how bizarre sports are.

For example, let’s say that one day I discovered I was really good a balancing a ping-pong ball on my nose. Let’s say I was the best in the world.

Would it bother you that I was better at ping-pong ball balancing than you?

Basically, I think my ‘problem’ is that I understand the difference between “I am better than you.” And “I am better than you at this ultimately pointless, meaningless activity.”