By the end of this week, everyone will try to put together the ideas of what exactly makes a sport a sport. Being the person that I am, I’m taking it up a notch. As we all know, it is a privilege to have the talent that a majority of us possess. But with the question that was posed from Zander, I decided to take a different approach.

So what is sport to me? The answer is pretty simple and no one would have thought about that. In all honesty, life is the ultimate sport. It sounds crazy and off the wall, but it’s clear that competition starts for those of us who don’t play on Sundays every time we wake up and ends every time we fall asleep.

So how does life count as sport? I think I’ve hit enough of the good points in the following column.

First Quarter: Wake Up Call

When the alarm goes off in the morning, our day starts off like a track meet. Some people actually go for the world record of bolting out of their house (some of us just to dodge the constant nagging of the other half). But the main reason that some of us are trying to sprint out of the house is because of the morning commute.

If we think about it, traffic is like NASCAR. Everyone wants the pole position (aka the lead), and everyone wants to take out the lousy driver next to them or in front of them. We spend the majority of the time trying not to get in a dangerous wreck or get stuck with a ticket for going two miles over the speed limit.

After we finally get off the freeway, we hit the exits towards our jobs…until we reach a stoplight. We hit the light, and there’s always someone who thinks they’re faster than you. This, in turn, brings about the drag race (so to speak). Once that light hits green, it’s your ’89 Toyota Corolla versus their ’99 Ford Mustang GT all the way to the finish line, or in some cases, the Erik Estrada-wannabe that is waiting for you to pass.

But after you either get caught or win the race, you get to the office and the end of the first quarter of the game called life.

Second Quarter: The Working Day

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