I’M A BAD SPORT
Unlike My Sisters, I Will Not Read the Sports Page
There is no such thing as My Team
Many decades ago, when I was barely a teenager, my brother-in-law took me to a Bruins hockey game. This wasn’t at my request; I had no interest. I think he felt I was not “normal” and hoped to awaken my inner love of sports with the fast action and mayhem of 1960’s hockey.
That was my fault. I had mentioned that my dad once took me to a Red Sox game, and it bored me so much that I begged him never to take me again. Dad might have been relieved; he pretended to care about sports around other men but did not.
I did not enjoy the hockey game.
I resolved not to be a pretender. Greet me with “What a game!” and I’ll tell you flat out that I do not know about it and do not want to know.
One of my sisters got corrupted by sports sometime in her life. She watches football, hockey, baseball, and basketball. I only know that because my oldest sister told me that the other sister knows better than to try engaging me in sports talk.
Until a week or so ago, the oldest sis was uninterested in sports. Rather suddenly, she started reading the sports section. According to her, she did this because our sibling kept mentioning sports.
