It seems pointless to contemplate our fascination with sports.
Through shallow introspection, like any other passion, I'm aware my most fundamental components are engaged. Some are so captured by its allure, it saturates their entire existence. Trivializing phrases associated with sports—"it's just a game"—are created to poke intellectual holes into a truly fulfilling experience.
But, as with many other things, media alters our perception of sports. And that can infect an otherwise healthy relationship.
Michael Vick's crimes are, in my mind, unforgivable. In a way, I'm glad he's in the public spotlight because the humiliation surrounding the crimes he committed was magnified enormously. However, if 98 percent of sports coverage is crammed with hazy speculation and vague analysis concerning his every move, my passion for it expands subconsciously to encompass things unrelated.
The periphery is blown up to such a degree my initial curiosities are drowned in a blabbering mess caused by a perpetual need for higher ratings. Brett Favre, Tiger Woods and LeBron James'...
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