Seemingly since I began utilizing my legs to walk, I have been an enormous sports fan.
But, this past Sunday afternoon I had an epiphany akin to the one that Lester Burnham experienced towards the end of "American Beauty."
Sitting in a prominent Boston sports bar, I was disgusted when I looked to my right and saw a pink, Red Sox hat-donning, obese, and hideously unattractive woman frothing from the mouth while she supported Manny Ramirez at the plate.
Much to my chagrin, I then looked to my left and saw a low-rent, middle-aged man, likely from Revere, with two children by his side, wearing an "A-Rod swallows" tee-shirt cheering on "the Sawx."
Seeing these two intense and repulsive New Englanders in all of their glory began to actually cause physical ailments within my body.
I was sweating like Patrick Ewing and my heart was beating like I was a hooker in a cathedral, and for what? To passionately support a fleet of overpriced, often arrogant, and surly, men throw a ball around?
Sports are simply games and they should not be taken more seriously than that.
Nevertheless, I do love the idea of competition and, in a less frenetic and more mature way, I will still attempt to entertain you with my take on the world of athletics.