I used to be obsessed with the Chicago Bulls. I realize that this is partially due to my environment. I lived in Chicago in the 90s. I was taught who Michael Jordan was practically before I learned my ABCs. I learned to never, ever badmouth Dennis Rodman—regardless of his temper or his temporary marriages. Benny the Bull was everyone’s—extremely creepy—pet.
At age 7, I analyzed the Sports section every morning and memorized the statistics of the entire team. I knew every last statistic—even the rebound average of the benchwarmers. The baseball card store owner knew me by name, as I was one of his most frequent (and only elementary school aged female) customers. I taped games I couldn’t watch, and then rewatched them to carefully analyze plays.
Clearly, I was a normal child.
My point of this post? I still love sports, but no longer have A team. I like teams, but it doesn’t take much convincing for me to change. I am a Sox and a Cubs fan, which, if you live in Chicago is about as rare as seeing a Coyote in Downtown Chicago (this actually did happen). I enjoying watching sports, but my day is definitely not destroyed if “my” team loses.
The problem? I’m competitive enough to care. I hate not having a team to trash talk. Sports just aren’t the same without a little smack.