The Wolverines are the most frustrating of teams, almost always in contention but seldom quite at the top. But all those who are similarly afflicted recognize that, absurd or not, the pain is real. And so though, unfortunately, not quite as strong is the joy when things turn out right. Nor am I impressed by deep-think interpretations that impose on sports events a burden of meaning they cannot bear. I am unpersuaded by the argument that the designated-hitter rule threatens civilization as we have known it.
Sports relieves the weight of life.
It satisfies, in an innocent way, our competitive urges. It reminds us, precisely in its absurd elevation of the trivial, not to take ourselves too seriously. There are those, it is true, whose preoccupation with sports becomes so all-consuming as to constitute a moral disorder. A life lived in a sports bar is a life ill spent. But for the great majority of us, sports provides a pleasurable interlude in life for which we not only need not repent, but for which we should offer continuing prayers of gratitude.