I Am A Know-Nothing Sports Enthusiast
February 8th, 2006
Go ahead and ask me about the game last night.
I can agree with you about how great of a game it was last night and how I was on the edge of my seat and oh my god how that one play that you just outlined before me was a must-see moment of athletic prowess and that what’s-his-name and what’s-his-name really are two of the best what-do-you-callits in the history of whichever sport it is that we are discussing…
…while all the time having no idea what we’re talking about.
That is because I am a know-nothing sports enthusiast. A guy who, on the surface, can hold his own with the best, most obsessed sports fans as long as any conversation regarding said-referenced sports does not exceed four minutes and twenty three seconds, which just happens to be the threshold time limit for any sports conversation where I go from “guy who knows about the sporting event and athletes you’re talking about” to “guy who knows nothing about sports and can’t pretend he does any longer.”
Watching the highlights on the 11pm news is part of what makes me so good.
For a relatively short time commitment I have enough ammunition for the next business day. I can walk into a room of sports fans and reference “that amazing play by you-know-who” and “that crazy franchise business with that team” and “the annoying politics of the NBA” without actually ever saying a thing. By listening to what you’re saying, I can achieve the illusion of being right there with you when I’m actually thinking about eating a warm sourdough roll with peanut butter and jelly instead.
You: “Did you see the Lakers game last night?”
Me: “OH MY GOD, right?”
You: “Seriously, that was such a close game.”
Me: “I couldn’t believe it.”
You: “But those Lakers always pull it out in the end, don’t they?”
Me: “Yeah, and THANK GOD they did last night. I almost thought they were going to totally get their asses handed to them by those, uh… See? I’m not even going to mention the name of the other team because their identities have been ERASED by our beloved Lakers!! Yeeaaaaaaaaaaah!!!”
Usually making loud cheering noises after announcing some questionable piece of professional sports trivia usually riles the other person up to the point of them forgetting my indiscretions. Usually enthusiasm and volume paves a nice smooth road over my bumpy sports logic. And sometimes, just talking about the commercials inbetween the action [read: Superbowl] takes sports talk back into a realm where I feel comfortable.
But don’t get me wrong — my lack of sports knowledge isn’t widely perceived.
I am like the jury consultant of sports talk. While jury consultants can walk into a courtroom and identify potential juror’s personalities by their mannerisms, I too can determine just where to go next in our sports conversation based on your emotional state. Here’s a simple to follow chart for others in my same position:
THEY ask you if you saw the game, EXCITED.
YOU did, and are so happy OUR TEAM won.
THEY seem SOMBER, and ask if you like #12.
YOU don’t. #12 is a dickhead who isn’t living up to his contract.
THEY are crying.
YOU tell them we’ll win next time.
Armed with the previous night’s 11PM sports highlights, a keen ability to determine your friend’s emotional state and a skill at double-talk and generalities, and you too can impress your sports-obsessed/fantasy-whatever friends with your knowlege of sports, players, contract negotiations and current sponsorship deals between teams, players and corporate identities. Throw in an almost inhuman ability to know what team names go with which cities, and you’ll never look like an idiot in a world of athletic-addicted sporties.
I’m Paul Davidson. And I’m a know-nothing sports enthusiast.
Hello, Paul.
Will you be coming to Singapore for book signings? You have plenty of fans here! xx
Comment by Jo — February 8, 2006 @ 8:39 am
Jo - I am trying to work out something so that I am there when David Hasselhoff is there doing his tour. Oh, and when that Punky Brewster kid goes to Singapore also.
So yeah, I will definitely try.
Comment by Pauly D — February 8, 2006 @ 8:42 am
It’s actually fun to yell, woohoo or yeeehaaah. It doesn’t matter if you don’t really know what’s going on. Don’t you agree?
Comment by susan — February 8, 2006 @ 8:50 am
You might try slipping in a few F-bombs here and there.
Comment by H. F. Peterman — February 8, 2006 @ 9:03 am
I am right there with you, Paul. I totally bluffed my way through post Superbowl office talk this week with words like “Yeah that was a fumble!” and “come on! that was a tackle for chrissake!” In fact I even bluffed my way through the commercials discussions, too — “Anytime you got Clydesdales, I’m hooked” and “How sweet would having a magic fridge be, dude? YEAHHH!”
Yes, I didn’t see the Superbowl. I was stuck on the Jersey Turnpike that evening.
Comment by Jerry — February 8, 2006 @ 9:03 am
You’re just that good. Now…you’re the kind of guy friend a woman craves. You’d be perfect sitting at lunch and people watching. Such a skill…if people only knew.
xoxo
C
Comment by Thoughtsgalore — February 8, 2006 @ 9:11 am
I know just what you mean! I do the same thing… I can’t understand how people (my boyfriend included) can remember all these details from so many games! It’s amazing to me…I’m seriously in awe.
And yet I know every word to every pop song from the 80’s, so maybe everyone should be in awe of ME…
Comment by Flower Girl — February 8, 2006 @ 9:13 am
“Dude, I can catch better than those guys” has gotten me through many a sports conversation. It works for baseball, football, and basketball. (Not so good for hockey, though…) The other person always agrees and launches into a discussion of who needs to be cut or traded from the team (if OUR team has the players who can’t catch), or the myriad ways in which OUR team rocks (if the OTHER team has the players who can’t catch), and all I have to do is say “yeah, totally” every now and again. And I’m free to dream of my PB&J on sourdough in peace.
Comment by annabel lee — February 8, 2006 @ 9:20 am
AL - Remember that time I was telling you about my new book and you kept going “yeah, totally” over and over again?
Were you thinking of PG&J?
Comment by Pauly D — February 8, 2006 @ 9:21 am
Pauly D - is this some bitter resentment from being denied a sports writing job? Did you make demands like, “Whenever I write about Kobe I want to say Kobe Poo-Nany Woo Woo made 81 points last night”? Or those “Kings from Sacramento are really not royality”? Did you refuse to wear the MFFL t-shirt Mark Cuban gave you for your work on the Benefactor and he bitch-slapped you there on the spot? What gives?
Comment by monkeyinabox — February 8, 2006 @ 9:29 am
Paul… Amen my friend. Us know-nothings have to stick together! But we all seem to develop that instinct to know “the point of no return” in any sports conversation. Testing it is just the fun of it all.
Comment by Bryan Veloso — February 8, 2006 @ 9:58 am
Awwww Pauly…I guess you won’t be coming in the near future then, since Mr. Look-How-Sexy-I-Am-When-I’m-Running Hasselhoff is barred from entering my country. Tough luck. Or maybe try to be here when Tara Reid is coming as celebrity spokeswoman for the annual drink, don’t drive campaign?
Comment by Jo — February 8, 2006 @ 10:15 am
Pauly - of course not! I’m shocked you would even think such a thing.
PB&J on sourdough is thought about only whilst discussing sports. Not books.
Comment by annabel lee — February 8, 2006 @ 11:10 am
i married an athlete, my kids are all into sports, i volunteer with every sports group you can think of and i guarantee i know less about sports than anyone else you can think of. but i can root for my team, as long as somebody tells who my team is.
Comment by better safe than sorry — February 8, 2006 @ 11:46 am
What’s “a team”?
Comment by Pauly D — February 8, 2006 @ 11:52 am
Oh boy, I need to learn your technique. My biggest fear in life is going to some party at someone’s house, where the women gather in one room and the men in the other — and I have to say something about football. What’s the name of our NFL team in Los Angeles anyway?
Comment by Neil — February 8, 2006 @ 12:00 pm
Interesting strategy. I usually use some variation of the following:
THEY ask you if you saw the game, EXCITED.
No, YOU didn’t. You inform them that YOU were getting laid instead.
The only thing better than faking your way through a sports conversation is ENDING a sports conversation.
Comment by Rabbit — February 8, 2006 @ 3:39 pm
I can say I’ve done the same. And going to high school, it’s a little harder in that high school kids have nothing better to do than watch sports, but it’s also a little easier because high school kids don’t pick up on the subtleties and discrepancies.
Comment by Glen — February 8, 2006 @ 4:23 pm
I think I might have done that every now and again… but dude, you just blew your cover - hope no one from the office reads your blog eh?
Comment by kristarella — February 8, 2006 @ 7:45 pm
“a team” is a reason for having a beer and popcorn at the game, woohoo!!! get in the game already, you have no idea what you’re missing;)
Comment by better safe than sorry — February 9, 2006 @ 5:43 am
Eleven o’clock news highlights … all you really need to see. And not just for sports … this works for politics, too.
Comment by nic — February 9, 2006 @ 7:28 am
Yet more proof that you are a freakin’ genius. I get off the hook by asking one annoying question after another until my poor football-loving husband just finally tunes me out. Very handy is the tactic of “misinterpreting” the referee’s calls. For example, when they order the ball back to “the previous spot on the field,” you ask earnestly, “Which is the prettiest spot on the field?” And “Can they DO that?” after every play is a good one, too. If you can keep it up for a quarter, you’re usually excused before halftime.
Comment by Belinda — February 9, 2006 @ 10:08 pm