The Bekavac Files: A Three Part Manifesto on Sports and Society

(Editors Note: This is the first in a three part commentary by guest poster and Croation Sensation, Bekavac, the avid golfer, and hopefully frequent contributor from last week. Part Two will run Wednesday, and Part Three will run on Thursday.)

As I get older, I realize that there are two parts of a newspaper that impact the majority of lives in this country: the obituaries and the sports section. Much like Shakespeare and ballet did over time, spectator sports has moved up the cultural ladder thanks to the advent of even lower culture like reality TV and more reality TV that spinoffs from other reality TV. More and more, the Super Bowl or the British Open or the NBA Finals have become acceptable workplace banter, not only in the mills and factories and office parks, but also in the firms, laboratories, and faculty lounges of this country.

Also, women are becoming more and more analytical and critical and rounded in their rooting. Now, the causes of this range from the increased exposure of sports to the media outlets saturating the American public and the obvious increase in female participation of all sports, accelerated by Title IX. However, whatever the cause and/or affect of female involvement in sports, the involvement itself is a marker for the increased standing of sports as a cultural importance. As a pastime becomes accepted not by one subset or demographic or age group or sex, but by the whole society, it truly does become a cultural bellwether.
The question is why.

Part I – A Roll of the Dice

“I don’t believe what I just saw”! - Jack Buck, responding to the Kirk
Gibson home run, Game 1, 1984 World Series.

Sports, thematically, reflect the stories and myths that our society is based on. David versus Goliath is reflected in Villanova versus Georgetown. Michael Jordan could fly like Superman. And who stands as a symbol of Machiavellian brutality and bullying more in our culture: Richard III or George Steinbrenner? However, in the Bible or comic books or the bard, the next step in the plot is always a few pages ahead. With sports, you never know after the first tee if Tom Watson will push the 30 somethings to the brink. You never know that David Tyree will make a catch off the crown of his head. From the drop of the puck to the final horn; from the kickoff to the final gun, from the tip till the buzzer: we never know. It’s an unfolding of the themes and lessons and stories.

The unpredictability of the game is what makes it special. It injects the random into our lives that desperately need it. As children, we never knew what would happen in our day, but it always seemed to work out. The responsibilities were taken care of for us. Now, we must take care of them, and to do so we structure our day. The Blackberry beeps and tells us where to be at 12, 2, and 3. We come home, usually knowing when we left our house what was for dinner. We’ve even set our bodies to tell us the time to go to sleep.

When we watch a game, we have no inkling that Mark Buehrle will throw a perfect game. We just don’t. We can admit a chance in retrospect, but we don’t know. It’s the unknowable chance that makes us love sports.