On Sports

I must admit, that as a huge sports fan (which includes virtually every sport ranging from football and baseball to more esoteric ones such as cycling and track and field), events of the past few weeks have left me enormously down on sports in general. Here's just a simple recap:

-- Michael Vick and the allegations that he ran a dog fighting operation. While I'm not a charter member of PETA by any means, this, if true is just despicable. And if the allegations are true that he personally killed eight dogs, I think they should put him in jail and throw away the key.

-- The NBA ref who allegedly bet on basketball. I believe that this could very well turn into the biggest fiasco in the history of sports, exclusive of the Black Sox scandal, especially if it turns out there were other refs involved.

-- Barry Bonds and his quest for the home run title, which needs no further narrative.

-- Yesterday's situation at the Tour with Vino. Of all riders, why you, Vino? I really can understand why Scottish cyclist David Millar, upon hearing this news, put his hands on his head and cried. As you know, I am passionate about The Tour, and this was just a kick in the pants.

A few years ago I pretty much made the decision that while I would always be a sports fan -- it's in my blood, after all -- that I would stop really caring (I was so bad back in the day that I was known to have thrown up during Michigan basketball games) and no longer become emotionally involved. I will be the first to admit that while Michigan and Yankee playoff losses still sting badly (particularly losses to OSU and USC!), I'm getting much better about shaking them and moving on.

Which brings me in a roundabout manner to last night.

The kid's camp bought a block of tickets to the Giant's game. The kids just love this camp and coupled with Bond's home run chase (I don't like him but it would not suck to witness baseball history) and The Boy's emerging interest in baseball, I thought it would be a great family outing.

To step back for a second, I've taken him to several games in the past, including multiple Cubs games back when we lived in Chicago and a few Giants games last year. At best, he lasted about three or four innnings and showed minimal interest in the game itself (he was way more consumed - literally -- by the hot dogs and cotton candy).

Anyway, last night was special. I was ready to leave after four innings -- it was freezing in the bleachers and The Girl was squirming and utterly disinterested (and that is The Wife I am talking about. Forget about Summer). I told them we were leaving and The Boy looked me in the eye and said "no way." I told him that the Giant's were pretty much done and he said "they can still win."

So, we hung around. Come the ninth inning, with one out and no one on and the Giant's down 4-0. I said let's go and beat the traffic. Again, he said, "No way. We can still win this game. No way dad."

And wouldn't you know, so help me g-d, like a scene out of the movies, the Giant's rallied with one out and no one one and tied it up in the bottom of the ninth. The place was going wild and he looked at me with this absolutely beatific smile, his baseball glove still on in hand (waiting, with the thronged masses, to catch a Barry Bond's home run) and said "You see dad. I told you so. Anyone can come back."

Indeed.

I won't bore you with the details of the rest of the night, like how I *finally* cajoled him out of there after the 11th inning (his sister was literally sleep walking). Or how he would not get out of the car in our driveway until after the game was over (no Hollywood ending here -- Giant's lost 7-5 in 13).

But I will say, last night it became clear to me that my son has learned to love the game. Despite my early concerns, I do think that he might have the Solomon sports gene.

And the only think I ask, is that the next generation of athletes -- and referees as the case may be -- not blow things for him, much like has been the case for our generation. Step up and take responsibility, because our kids really deserve better.

(PS. I know Jeff, this might go against the grain of some my previous diatribes. But this post isn't necessarily about the drugs in sport. It's about changing behaviors)