Welcome to the Colosseum

When I was younger I found it strange that sports fans would get so worked up over their team-of-choice's wins and loses. I found it ridiculous that grown adults would find it necessary to fight with best friends all over a game. What makes someone align themselves with a sport team.

I have no clue now that I am older. But I find myself doing the same thing.

Last night I watched the WRC (World Rally Challenge) in Cyprus. (It was taped - and believe me it's hard to not look at the results before I watch the race.) My team of choice is Subaru's WRX and driver Petter Solberg. I think the cars are pretty darn hot (when not being driven my dorky punk boys at autocrosses) and I think Petter Solberg is pretty hot too. He's cute when he wins, he has a lot of personality - and I like that people make up songs to sing about him. I sing along myself (Solberg, my Petter Solberg, you make me happy....)

As I started to watch the race I was all set to cheer as Solberg trounced Loeb. Solberg was only one point away from Loeb in driver standings. He could be first...it would be great...there would be much jumping up and down at my house. But if you watched the race you know that Solberg had to end early to spare him from a 1 minute penalty in the next challenge and that was it.

I was crushed. Loeb is obviously an excellent driver. And the Citroen is an awesome car. But I found myself hating him. I silently cheered on the other drivers hoping that someone - anyone - would beat him. Of course no one did, and there were some great showings. Loeb took it.

But I wonder what makes me so involved. My emotions truly skyrocketed back and forth watch the race. So much so that I found myself exhausted and unable to stay awake to watch the interviews after the race. The fact I was so tired makes me think that I was subconsciously seeing the race as a cathartic experience. In my little life there are very few battles of devastating proportions. Sure there's passion in love (which I have lots of) and stress, a little strife, a lot of loss, but in general my emotions about those things are kept in check. I'm sad, I'm happy, I'm irritated - no emotions that could, essentially, cause harm.

And that's the key I think. Watching sports I can safely feel all those over-dramatic emotions that are so detrimental to real-life interactions. For an hour and a half I can despise a player and deify another. I can throw all caution to the wind and yell and scream. No one can hear me (save the cat and mu husband, but they don't mind) and no one is insulted or frightened. For that hour and half it is a battle, the safe kind, the kind without death and blood and no one really loses. So what if Solberg doesn't pass Loeb - he'll be back next year and so will Loeb and they'll do it again. All of my curses and spitefulness is expunged - and no one knows and no one is hurt.

Of course this makes sense. Sports is just theatre like anything else. It gives us a safe venue to feel unsafe things.

So the next race I'll still cheer on my little Norwegian Gladiator and curse the ancestors of all Citroen makers.

And Loeb will still probably win.