What Do Sports Mean To Me?

In October 2005, the Atlanta Braves and Houston Astros met in Game Four of the National League Division Series. The Astros were up two-game-to-one in the best-of-five so the Braves needed a victory to force a fifth game and one more game in Atlanta. They failed to secure a lead and headed to extra innings; nine of them, to be exact. My heart felt like it could not handle it as the Braves failed to take advantage of runners they had been able to get on base. Ultimately, they lost on a Chris Burke 18th inning homerun, ending their season.

Flash back to February of 2002 and the greatest basketball game I have ever watched. Notre Dame headed to Georgetown for a Big East battle. What they got was a marathon quadruple overtime game that, at least at the time, was the highest scoring and longest game in Big East history before finally, the Irish pulled away when Matt Carroll scored seven of his 30 points in the final period as the Irish won 116-111.

Same school, different sport, and flashing back to a game more recently. In late September of 2006, the Fighting Irish headed to Spartan Stadium for a football game with Michigan State. What they got was a sure upset turned into an improbable comeback. The Irish, coming off a weak effort to Michigan, were looking to bounce back and look like national contenders again. Instead, they were down 17 at halftime and 16 at the end of the third quarter. What transpired in that fourth quarter was incredible. The Irish scored 19 in the final quarter, including the game-winning TD by cornerback Terrail Lambert's return off an interception. I was not capable of screaming out loud because I was the only one in the house awake, but I was definitely screaming out inside.

Why do I mention these things? Because two of those events are some of the happiest moments of my life and the other is one of the saddest. Add another sad event as the Dallas Cowboys lost to the Seattle Seahawks minutes ago on a mishandled snap on what would have been a chip shot field goal that would have put the Cowboys up with a minute or so remaining and a visit to the second round of the playoffs.

It was an easy play, done flawlessly a million times. Snap the ball, QB Tony Romo grabs the ball, puts it down, keeps it steady by holding the top of the ball with the tips of his fingers, and bam, the kicker pounds it through.

It was the last gasp of life by a Dallas Cowboys team full of more controversy than performance.

Right before the play, I stood in my living room (I could not sit at this moment) holding my shirt over my nose, almost afraid to watch. I would like to say I saw the events coming so that I sound smarter, but you can not see this happening. I was afraid Martin Grammatica, the kicker, would shank it. Or maybe the snap would be bad. Maybe the Seahawks would bring pressure up the middle and block it. Maybe the Cowboys hold and there is a 10 yard penalty. Maybe...

But it was the easiest part. Romo just had the ball slip out of his hands. He clamored to his feet and tried to run it in, but was stopped at the one and a half. Much like Jason Witten, who was stopped on the previous play setting up the fourth and inches and the need to kick a field goal.

I write this because I truly feel I failed or had been presented bad news on my personal life. Is it natural for sports to feel this way? Hell no. Sports shouldn't feel this way. I have no impact on it, but God help me, I am as depressed now as I was when I stopped seeing my last girlfriend. Sports are an escape from reality. After 9/11, it was sports that made me realize things could be okay again. It was Mike Piazza killing my team that gave New York hope. Sports give and give and ask so very little.

It's an addiction. I can't get enough of it.

And now, I wish I had never watched. I wish I could just remove ESPN and the like from my world.

But I won't. I'll be wondering who the Cowboys can get in the upcoming off season before you know it. For the moment, though, I hate football with a passion.