Childhood Sports Allegiances

 

If my childhood self could peer into the future, he would be shocked at how little sports I and our kids watch. Me, not by choice but due to having very little time to indulge. My kids, I guess partly because I didn't get them into it and partly because they and their friends are into other things.

All well and good. Watching sports is but one of many things that can take up our days. And, like good Philadelphians, we certainly wish the home teams well and get excited when they go on deep playoff runs. But, I never would've predicted when I was a kid that it would come to this.

To say that watching sports WAS my childhood is a bit of an overstatement, since I hold many dear memories from those days that don't involve following my teams. But, it did take a lot of my time, and perhaps even more of my heart.

Strangely, since for most of my childhood, basketball was probably my favorite sport to play and watch, I was less connected to the Golden State Warriors than to the Oakland A's and Oakland Raiders. (The San Jose Sharks didn't come until later, and I didn't really understand hockey, so no real ties there.) Sure, I remember the Sleepy Floyd game, and Run TMC and then the Webber draft were highlights I can recall to this day. But my real roots were A's and Raiders.

Why them? Well, for starters, my dad was Giants and 49ers, so of course I had to be the contrarian. Rickey Henderson was my favorite player at first, and then when the A's had Canseco and McGwire (and went to 3 World Series in a row), that was a fun run. The Raiders had some success in my childhood too, winning a couple of Super Bowls during my prime viewing years. Those were the swaggering Silver and Black days, with Howie Long and Jim Plunkett and that amazing Marcus Allen run against the Washington football team. 

I also got into college hoops, and Georgetown was my team because of John Thompson, the full court press, and intimidating centers (Ewing, Mourning, Mutombo). So, with three or four teams to follow, most weekends had me camped out in front of the TV, holding still for dear life if my team was doing well (since it was obviously the position of my body that was causing them to do well) and stomping around the living room if they weren't.

In a parallel universe, those superstitious ways carry to the present. Do I indoctrinate my kids into my childhood loves? Or do I convert to Philly teams and start a new tradition with them? Sadly, in this universe, it is neither. Those sports allegiances from my childhood are but a fleeting memory. We've filled our kids' childhood with different memories, no better or worse, and nothing to be sad about, although I guess a bit melancholy to think that the thing that was once so important to me is no more. Maybe once the nest is empty the allegiances and superstitions will return?