I have never been athletic. I have always lacked the drive for that kind of thing, well, that and the coordination. I was the girl who never could quite hit the wiffle ball in PE. (Though I was pretty good at field hockey, because while I lacked in coordination, I had plenty of aggression!) This hasn't stopped me from loving all kinds of sports, however. If the weekend's here, I am just as likely to be watching NASCAR, The Dew Tour, or track and field finals as I am to be watching anything else. I will pretty much watch anything, the fortnight of Wimbelton coverage, even golf if there's nothing else on, but I'm probably not watching for any of the reasons you think.
I'm watching for that moment that comes right at the end of the race, match or game. That split second when the winner realizes that they are actually going to get what they came for, what they have been working for and dreaming of all this time. I love that moment of pure bliss, of celebration. To be perfectly honest, it's been known to make me cry even if I don't know anything about the sport or the winner. Because the thing of it is, how many moments do we really get in our lives like that? How often do we get to go into the world, get what we earned and truly and wholly celebrate that? It seems like competition allows us the freedom to celebrate ourselves in a way we probably wouldn't in some other area. I mean, can you imagine doing a victory lap around the office when you get a promotion or high fiving everyone in the doctor's office after a good report? It just doesn't translate!
So, until then, I will be watching tennis...or track...or even golf...awaiting the celebration.