the fandom menace

I have never been keen on the typical American sports fare of baseball, basketball, and football. I can get into football when necessary, but the other two- meh. I actually quite like watching some sports that many find absolutely boring: tennis, running, cycling, and soccer. I don’t mind hockey either. But it doesn’t require very much time in front of the TV to get my sports fix except for the month of July. If I have the time, I like to park my keister in front of the TV and catch Wimbledon and, even more, Le Tour de France. This year, I enjoyed the World Cup.

Perhaps there is really no rhyme or reason to it, but I didn’t grow up with a father who watched many sports. He was an avid outdoorsman. He liked guns and fishing rods. And guns. (I’m not an avid hunter or fisherman either, but that’s another story.) So I suppose if I were to blame or thank anyone, it would be him.

My recreation has always centered around books and couches. If I could lay on a couch all day and plow through half or all of a book - undisturbed - I’d be happy. Nowadays I find it difficult to read for long, but I chalk it up to the constant weariness and interruption of having so very many small people around. And Facebook and Twitter is ruining my attention span. I can get through an article, but finishing whole books - real books - becomes harder and harder for me. If I lay down at night after the offspring have gone to bed to read a book instead of watching TV, then I simply get more sleep. Now that I think about it, that wouldn’t be a terrible thing.

So I live life off, different from what one typically thinks of when one thinks of an American male. I’m OK with it. But sometimes it makes it hard to find things to talk about with other guys. We were part of a Baptist congregation at one time where sports was all the other men would talk about. Mostly basketball. March was a dreary month for me. I’d smile and nod and try to stay awake.

I am poor in male small-talk currency.