the madness was once year round...

i have tried to shake it from my system. i can't. even when i'm uninformed i'm still intrigued. there is this underlying notion in the arts community that sports are meaningless. just a part of the collective machismo that we have worked so hard to subdue,--the part of us obsessed with the inconsequential. there are more important things, a world crisis, wars to end, mouths to feed. it's true. it's a game.

i think it may surprise some i've known for a long time that i have been off the sports radar for a few years. i think it may surprise some i've known for a short time that i am a sports fan(atic...). i used to hate it when my competitive blood would boil. it scared me. i was not infallible and i desperately wanted to be. i think it was this animalistic passion for something often just beyond my control that later repelled me from such events.

this march, i saw humanity in it again and it blindsided me. it is a story of recovery, redemption, skinny kids with a whole lot of heart, and a foundation of trust and loyalty. real life sews the seams of the story and it moves me, embarrassingly enough.the energy that accompanies the underdog is contagious. it is analogous to the defeat of the underdog within. when david takes down goliath it's just a pretty sight for sore eyes. my blood, just under boiling temperature, moves for the unimportant and important, but most of all it circulates in the name of humanity. so sue me. i love it.


good run, mizzou.