Sports conversations


I guess am strange for a middle age white male in America; I didn’t watch the Super Bowl.  Not only that but, I don’t really care who won.  As you may have guessed, I am a nerd.  But what distinguishes me from other nerds is that I am fully aware of this fact.  Being unaware of being a nerd is kind of the cornerstone of real nerdom, the inability to recognize how different they are to “normal” people.  This is why the show Big Bang Theory is so popular, Lenard is actually aware of his nerdiness, while Sheldon is completely unaware.  And Penny shows us that not being nerdy enough is likewise a handicap.  I just love that show.  It reminds me so much of my high school years.

The fact that nerdom, and nerdiness is not in the MS Word’s spell check, could be proof that I am as I say.  I expect to use these words often so I added it to the list of correctly spelled words.  This is because I hate that little red squiggly line.

This brings me to sports conversations.  I constantly walk the line between being an unashamed nerd, and being aware enough to know that it makes others uncomfortable.

For instance, since today is Super Bowl Sunday, when someone I know attempts to start a conversation about what I view as an obscure and unimportant statistic behind their total commitment to supporting an athletic team, I find myself at a total loss for words.  “Oh, was that today?  And “I am sure that all the players are patriotic.” These are the replies that come to mind automatically.  But what I say is, “Sports are really important to you aren’t they?” This usually ends the conversation quickly.

I guess I should learn enough to actually hold a conversation, just to be sociable.  But it seems to be a lot more work that it is worth.  Why should I have to learn endless statistics and team names?  I not only have no interest, but a lot of better things to learn.  For instance on the discovery channel there is a How it’s Made marathon.  I now know how fake food is made.  That’s a lot better than how many yards some guy has tossed a oblong leather bladder.

My lovely wife delights in my sports ignorance.  Sometimes I think she makes up team names and arbitrary rules just to screw with me.  But that’s ok.  I feel confident that I can bullshit her on matters of science that is both obscure and irrelevant to her.  So far I haven’t felt the need.  I am comfortable with my ignorance of sports.  It is almost a matter of pride.

I guess I am not yet as completely conscience of my nerdom as I thought.


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