[thenightwriterblog] The Night Writer: The sporting chance

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Posted by The Night Writer:
The sporting chance
http://thenightwriterblog.powerblogs.com/posts/1205722968.shtml


   This weekend was the first one since the Super Bowl where I had the
   opportunity or inclination to park my butt in front of the TV to watch
   some sports. My butt didn't necessarily stay there, though.
   Friday night, for example, I didn't turn the set on until pretty late
   in the evening. I did some quick channel-surfing and came across the
   Big Ten channel with six minutes left in the Gophers-Indiana game in
   the Big Ten Men's Tournament. I hadn't watched much of the Gophs this
   season, but I knew the names of the players and that senior center
   Spencer Tollackson was out of the game with a sprained ankle. Given
   the team's history in recent years and the fact they were missing
   their big man, I was surprised to see that the Gophers were leading.
   Not-so-surprisingly, they went into epileptic chicken mode, letting
   the Hoosiers hang around and eventually take the lead with 1.5 seconds
   left. The way they put Indiana at the foul-line twice with less than
   five seconds left was shocking only if you hadn't once watched the
   football team mishandle a punt snap a couple of years ago to snatch
   defeat from the jaws of victory in the closing seconds of a conference
   game.
   Friday night, anyway, I had noticed that freshman shooting specialist
   and ESPY-winner Blake Hoffarber wasn't playing. Not having followed
   the team closely I didn't know if it was because of other deficiencies
   in his game, but when Tubby Smith called timeout and sent Hoffarber in
   with less than two seconds left I figured there was no way you could
   ask the kid to come off the bench cold and take a shot to win the
   game. Absurd. So there I was, sprawled on the couch as the long throw
   in crossed mid-court and went into a tangle of arms and bodies, only
   to deflect into Hoffarber's hands with just enough time for him to
   turn and shot-put a left-handed shot at the rim -- where it
   disappeared along with the breath of every Hoosier fan in the Conseco
   Fieldhouse. As for myself, I found myself totally and automatically
   levitated from the couch while a loud "D'oh!" was yanked
   uncontrollably from my lips. It was a magical and exciting moment and
   I had witnessed it with my own eyes!
   Then this afternoon I turned on Arnold Palmer's Bay Hill Invitational
   shortly after Tiger Woods had separated himself from the other leaders
   on the front nine. I stuck with the event through the afternoon as
   Tiger looked as if he was going to run away with it until he
   inexplicably took a page from my game and three-putted from six feet
   on number 10. The rest of the tournament was tense as several people
   stayed in contention until finally a relatively unknown pro forged a
   tie with the Great One and headed for the scorer's tent as Tiger
   prepared to assault Bay Hill's challenging finishing hole, ultimately
   leaving himself with a 25-foot downhill slider of a putt to win the
   tournament. This time I was on the edge of the couch, both feet on the
   floor, elbows on knees, leaning forward toward the set as the putt
   started on its long, slow, curving patch before dropping into the cup
   in much the same way my briefcase hits the floor when I come home from
   a long day's work.
   Rather than levitating, however, I flopped backwards, hands on my
   forehead at what I'd just seen, nearly unnerved by the fact that
   someone like Tiger Woods now strides the earth.
   For all the excesses and scandals in pro and "amateur" sports these
   days that can leave you jaded, it's great to not only remember but
   experience the sheer drama and unscripted displays of skill and will
   that ultimately make our games so compelling.