Giving Up the Game?

I’ve written often about my love of sports; how watching talented athletes pushing themselves to achieve life-long goals inspires me. Today, I’m writing about the flip side – when talented athletes falter and rip your heart out in the process.

The other day I wrote about my perfect day walking around the grounds of Medinah Country Club with my family, enjoying the scenery as well as the atmosphere of the first Ryder Cup to be held in the area. By the time Saturday night rolled around, the American team had taken a huge lead in the event and it looked as if we had finally beaten the Europeans at their own game. If you’ve been away from your TV or can’t be bothered with this stuff, you might not know that we left that beautiful venue empty-handed. And now my club, (okay, I don’t belong but thanks to my dad I do get to play there on a regular basis), will always be known as the site of one of the biggest disasters in American golf – and that stinks.

I can’t tell you how much I hate myself for taking this stuff so seriously. I can’t believe I woke up twice during the night and the first thing I thought of (no, it wasn’t that I had to use the bathroom) was that stupid golf tournament. My poor dad, who’s been working at Medinah for twenty-three years, said he did the same thing; certain that he was just waking up from a bad dream. But that’s the thing about sports. You invest your time, your energy and your spirit rooting for your team and, if you let it, a crushing defeat will devastate you almost as much as it devastates your team.

You don’t have to remind me that it’s just a game. I’ve been telling myself that all day. I know no one died; everyone will live to fight another day. But we were so close; so close and now we have to wait two years to have another chance.

So now it’s up to the Bears. C’mon guys, I’m counting on you. Don’t ruin my Tuesday.