My heart is pounding. I’m tense. My hands are clammy. I’m starting to sweat. One moment my heart feels like it’s going to pop out of my chest. The next it sinks into my stomach. Then, it shoots up to my throat leaving me speechless. Am I sick? No, I’m not sick.
I’m just sitting here watching Game 7 of the World Series.
I’m screaming at my TV. I’m clapping my hands and yelling. I’m super loud at midnight (It’s ok. My neighbors are yelling, too). I probably shouldn’t be, but this game is eliciting emotion. Despair. Anxiousness. Anticipation. Relief. Joy. Excitement. This is a game for the ages!
Finally, the Chicago Cubs pulled it off and won the World Series after 108 years.
The feeling of elation that swept over me is why I love sports.
For one day, we could forget about the circus that is our presidential election. Issues of race, class, and gender were put aside. Instead, we had one single moment in time where we find common ground with a stranger. In a time where fussing and fighting are constant people bonded in the streets of Chicago. The only thing that mattered were the Chicago Cubs. Outside of the city, we could find people who weren’t even Cubs fans and share in the joy of them winning. Together.
Sometimes we need a reminder that life is good. Sometimes we need to step back and see people as our brothers, not our opponents. Sports allows us to do that.
That’s just one of many reasons why I love sports.