…Continued from the previous post.

Even the best of Sports Fans struggle at times. We can’t always bring our “A” spectating game, and when presented with a complex multi-faceted event like the USA Track & Field Indoor Championships…well let’s just say I wasn’t proud of my Day One performance.  

Over breakfast the next day, I called a Sports Fans-only meeting with myself to hash it out. After some clearing of the air, I/we embraced the difficult realization that no matter how hard one tries, it’s impossible to see everything at a track and field meet. The entire “It’s Game Time Somewhere” Tour crew agreed to put the previous day behind us, and to arrive at the Albuquerque Convention Center committed to a New Plan.

The New Plan had two key components. One, my reserved seat ticket had to be traded in for what I like to call a Custom VIP SRO Package. This essentially meant that I would spend the day pretty much anywhere in the venue other than in the reserved seat I had purchased in advance. And if that meant loitering in areas otherwise designated for coaches, friends and families, well so be it. I was willing to make that sacrifice. 
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They really should administer aptitude tests with the purchase of a track and field event ticket.

“Excuse me sir, but before I can let you in, I need to know that you possess the multi-tasking capacity necessary to fully assimilate this meet.”

Then again, I’m glad they don’t test. Because based upon my early performance at the USA Indoor Track & Field Championships, I would flunk.

Walking in the door at the Albuquerque Convention Center, I was reminded of opening weekend of the fantasy football season, when each year without fail, I would freeze immediately upon entering my local sports bar – and then meander around aimlessly in search of the ideal seat for simultaneous viewing of every game in which one of “my guys” was playing. An aerial shot of me would look like one of those Family Circus cartoons with the big dotted line showing where Jeffy or P.J. had scampered off to that day, bless their annoying little hearts.
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…Continued from the previous post.

It was a brisk 18 degrees outside, but inside Springfield College’s Blake Arena, I was sweating bullets.

Halfway through a highly entertaining gymnastics meet, Ithaca College was clinging to a lead of less than one point over their host, Springfield College. And the outcome of this Alma Mater Battle Royale would impact my life for the next month. Should The Bird’s Springfield Pride come back to win, I was staring at some hard time on the business end of a bag of Tidy Cat. If my Bombers were to hold on though, my nightly kitchen clean-up routine would be a thing of the past – well, for 30 days, anyway.

And no matter the outcome, this whole thing had to be over in less than an hour, or I would miss the end of the January Thaw skeedskating event taking place across the state line in Hartford. Which, according to the strict bylaws of the “It’s Game Time Somewhere” Tour, would prohibit me from claiming it as an official Tour event.

Many would crumble under this kind of pressure. Then again, many more would think the whole thing pretty silly. The IGTS Tour has that kind of polarizing effect on people.   
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…Continued from the previous post.

You have to understand. This was not just another sporting event. And I’m not just saying that because I arrived screaming into the parking lot on two wheels, trying to extricate myself from a double-booking fiasco.

No, this event had other, more critical consequences.

“What could possibly be so important about a women’s gymnastics meet between two Division III colleges?” you may ask.

It’s quite simple. The meet in question matched the Springfield College Pride against the Ithaca College Bombers. I am an Ithaca alum. The Bird has a sheepskin from Springfield. This was epic mano a (wo)mano stuff. But it was not just for bragging rights – chores were on the line.

If Ithaca were to win, it would mean no dishwashing duties for a month for yours truly. If Springfield won, I would inherit litter box detail. See what I mean? Big. HUGE.
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Runner crosses finish line at NCAA West Region Cross Country Championships

In 1959, British writer Alan Sillitoe published a short story entitled The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner. It was made into a movie in 1962, and ultimately received enough acclaim to land it on the British Film Institute’s list of the greatest British films of the 20^th century.

I never read the story nor saw the movie. In fact the only thing I’ve ever known about the plot line is that it revolved around cross country running. And that one small nugget of knowledge has always framed my perception of the sport. Cross country = lonely.

Hey, I never said it was a rational perception.
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