The Tension — almost Panic — about the Outcome.
Watching the NY Giants game, I promised myself to stay aware of my reaction to each play. The result: I was in a perpetual state of tension trying to will my preferences into being, or die trying.
Aware of this dynamic, I would remind myself that I was completely powerless over the events on the screen. This might seem self-evident, glaring, indisputable to the non-fan. But fanatics (origin of fan) project themselves into the action.
What does that mean exactly? This is my take: The quarterback is me. The opposing team is the world in all of its uncertainty and peril. I (the quarterback) want something from the opposing team (the world). I want to survive. I want to enforce my goals. I want to be special. Miraculously, I strive to avoid danger, bypass my frailty-mortality, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. And yes, it’s like that — almost every day players are carried off the field in stretchers — two in yesterday’s game.
Football unveils the trepidation I feel about living. So far, I can’t stop the tension — almost panic — I experience about the outcome of each play. Maybe it’s enough to keep one eye watching that.