The Investment of Heart

A Dramedic* Essay by Chris Condon

Contrary to what George Steinbrenner and Co. want you to believe, it doesn’t cost that much to be a sports fan. Well, from a monetary point-of-view, anyways. Going to games in beautiful state-of-the-art stadiums where even when there isn’t any action on the field you can watch sausages with legs race the perimeter is normally worth the price of admission. And while the best way to show your hometown pride is to don thyself in, team apparel (fa-la-la…), it’s not a requirement to pledge one’s athletic allegiance. Ok, you may need cable to watch the games at home. And cable costs money. But hey, it’s not like that $40 check is only for sports. You get other channels for your check. Some of that check goes to the Weather Channel. And probably other channels too, but we just think it would be nice if the Weather Channel got some cash to spruce things up and make weather more exciting. Here’s a tip – Meteorological Around the Horn. Could be a gold mine. Or a future blog post.

But this column wasn’t meant to be about cable revenue distribution. (That’s because we know nothing about such a silly thing.) This column was meant to be about what it costs you to be a sports fan. And after running many numerical calculations and cost/benefit analyses, to the point where our solar calculator melted into a raging ball of fire-magma, it turns out that we have an answer. Sports will cost you. It will cost you heart.

We now test this theory with two scenarios.

May 5th-6th, 2000 – The Game Theory – Finals are an interesting schedule rift for even the most seasoned college student. You no longer have classes to attend, so any semblance of a daily routine has been shoved out the window. You life now revolves around sporadically scheduled exams by which your last four months of existence will be objectively graded. And yet, Academia throws in a monkey wrench – by putting said exams during the NHL Playoffs. Now this wouldn’t have been a problem on 5/5/00, had the Penguins and Flyers played a standard hockey game. With a Game Theory final looming, I just figured I’d watch the game (along with Spud), study during and afterwards, and just do it. Of course, nobody mentioned my plan to the goalies of the evening, Brian Boucher and Ron Tugnutt. As the 1-1 tie went to overtime, I knew I was in trouble. But here’s the dilemma. I had already paid the price of admission, as the playoffs require a significant emotional investment. When loser goes home plays a part, I can’t just turn off the TV and find out the score in the morning. And so we watched, gasping at each Jagr wrister and hoping with each LeClair deke that this game would be over soon, with Philly on top.

“Soon,” to both teams, was an incredibly relative term. For it does not encompass two overtimes, or even three or four. Yes, in the fifth overtime, we were still playing hockey. The players? Completely spent. Chris Condon? I was so on edge that if Spud had knocked the remote off the coffee table, my frayed psyche would have either jumped up and punched a perfect circle into the fridge door or cried uncontrollably. Completely unpredictable. You see, with each overtime whistle, you spend a little more heart to remain a part of the action. And at that point, I had bet the farm – or at least the results of my Game Theory final. When Keith Primeau finally scored the game winner to end the third longest game in HISTORY, I let the loudest scream of my soul out – at 1:37 in the morning. However, with two sleeping roommates, I had to then take that scream and internalize it, completely throwing all internal systems out of whack – and may have led to more crying.

Or at least that was my rationale for oversleeping the final the next morning. (Don’t worry, Mom and Dad, I finished in plenty of time. Hey - an A-minus! Cool!)

And with that, this essay has become a novella, and now with our backs held to the Word Count Wall. Part Two – this afternoon.

*Dramedic (adj.) – 1. a combination of dramatic and comedic; 2. Condon’s inability to keep a straight face even while having full intention of being poignant; 3. an anagram for “Diced Arm”