We make them, bet on them, switch them and swear by
them. The Giants will upset the
Patriots. The Nationals will win the
World Series. The world will end in
2012. Some are reasonable, some are
risky and some are obvious.
We try to act smart and confident. But let’s be honest: we have no idea what is
really going to happen. You can analyze
all the statistics, read all of the history, invent genius mathematical
formulas and you still will not get any closer to the truth. We live in a world of chaos, and once the
players hit the field it is completely up for grabs. You never know when someone is going to get
hurt, fumble the ball, or make a bad call – which happens more often than not
these days.
Yet, we remain transfixed by the “experts.” It is absolutely amazing how much time we
spend watching analysts talk about the game and how little we spend actually
watching it. For every football game on
Sunday, there are six days of reviews and previews of what happened and is
going to happen. The three hours of
on-the-field action are stretched out into a week-long event. The entire season feels like a seven-month
marathon, extending from training camp in July to the Super Bowl in early
February. During the five months in
between, reporters make up stories and controversies just to inject the
airwaves with our weekly dose of football.
Take Tim Tebow as an example. This summer, hundreds of analysts predicted
where Tim Tebow would be traded. They
predicted what role he would play, how he would respond to the media, what
questions they would ask, and how he would respond when they asked those
questions. They predicted whether Tebow
would ever start, how poorly the starter would have to play in order for this
to happen, and when we could officially start calling it “Tebow time.” SportsCenter even set up shop at the Jets’
training camp facility to get the ultimate coverage.
What a terribly exciting story. What could possibly be more worthy of
on-the-scene coverage than a bunch of grown-up football players performing a
soap opera? We are holding our breath,
anxiously waiting to see whose feet Rex Ryan tickles next.
Let’s face it: we are addicted to 24-hour sports
coverage. So why do we keep coming
back? Perhaps it is not the stories
themselves that are appealing. In many
ways, the “ESPN culture” is appealing in its own right. We know all of the analysts by name, and
there is enough star-studded talent to attract our attention. On TV are Stephen A. Smith, Stuart Scott,
Chris Berman and Skip Bayless. On radio
are Mike & Mike and Colin Cowherd.
Online are Rick Reilly and Matthew Berry. These guys are giants in the journalism
industry.
These giants are remarkably invigorating, but it is not
their genius that keeps us coming back. They are not analyzing anything we cannot
understand for ourselves. They are not predicting
anything we cannot predict for ourselves.
Sports are not that complicated – we watch the games and react
instinctively. ESPN is more emotion that
reason, more opinion than fact.
It must be the egos, witty comments, creative sound effects
and oversized ties that keep us transfixed by the touted “experts.” No matter what sport is being covered, fans
grab the remote or computer and always tune into ESPN before CNN or FOX. It is a habit instilled in our daily routine,
one that holds true one hundred percent of the time for the ultimate sports fan. It is our morning coffee, our half-hour lunch
break, our 3 pm pick-me-up and our late-night study distraction.
It is enough to keep us entertained for six days every
week. When Sunday finally arrives, we
shift our attention from the desk to the field, barely noticing whether all
those predictors and analysts turned out wrong.
Monday rolls around, and we hop back on the hamster wheel.
