For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been the black sheep within my family and friends whom LOVE sports. Growing up I was hyper-active and played just about everything. Football, Basketball, Baseball, Soccer, Track & Field, Skateboarding, Snowboarding, BMX Riding (You get the point)
But for me, the thought of sitting on a couch with my idiot friends all day on a Sunday to watch a game that I never really gave two about makes my stomach cringe. I was an athlete, I am an athlete but I hate sports.
You read that right. I hate sports more than most anyone you will ever meet. In fact, I remember dating a girl that was obsessed with sports and it was the biggest turn off. (Especially listening to her rant and rave about a loss and how she could coach them better. Typical Boston fan, LOVE you when you’re winning, sending death threats when you’re losing)
I played sports because I was able to let out some of my pent up aggression and thankfully, found a place *legally* to do it and not be sent away for 10 to 20. I could pick up a sport really fast and excel within a short period of time. I’m not tooting my own horn, but I was the greatest athlete ever to walk the ef’n earth. *modest*
While all my friends looked up to their favorite athletes to try and emulate, I found a way to be myself and create my own identity on the field. I did not want to play like anyone but myself and figured out my own voice and style under the helmet and pads.
I became obsessed with the preparation for the field. I realized that hating sports gave me more insight to learn about everything you needed to do to excel in your given sport. The gym became my “happy” place and no matter the week, the time, the weather you would find me in the weight room six days a week busting my ass.
It was almost like having a chip on my shoulder and rebelling against all the other jocks I played with to not conform to what I should or shouldn’t be, and learned to understand my body and how to improve in the areas I needed to improve on. While they sat around stuffing their faces on a Sunday, I was doing hill sprints with a 100lb duffle bag on my back, puking in an ally and singing show tunes.
I would go as far as saying I outworked just about everyone, not to be better than them but to be better to myself. I’ve always set extremely high expectations for myself and failure was not something I allowed to seep into my mind at any given time. Even if we lost, I looked at the loss as a positive because I could see where I personally needed to work on.
Being a part of a team was something I enjoyed, but never felt like I was “a part” of anything. I could not relate to anybody on any team I played with because I hated sports. I loved beating the shit out of people on the field, I loved beating the shit out of myself in the gym, and I loved the anticipation on game day to demolish the competition.
If you asked me the name of any athlete to this day I have zero interest and zero clue. I’m kind of like the ditzy girlfriend at a Football game asking how much longer until we can go get manicures. That is more appealing to me than sitting and watching sports.
The times when I do watch are when one of my athletes are playing and I go to support them and see all the hard work in the gym translated to the field. THAT is an incredible feeling and one that still gives me goosebumps.
These days, the only athletic events you’d catch me at are Crossfit Comps, Powerlifting meets, Strongman comps, MMA fights, X-games and Dew Sports. Other than that, I’d be the guy to sell World Series tickets, or Super Bowl tickets because I just don’t care.
I’m glad I hate sports because I truly feel it has always given me one leg up against my competition. People have always said that my approach to training is out of the box, and when I was playing sports they could not pin point my “style” because I never looked up to anyone but myself.
Actually, I’m lying.
Two movies from my childhood that stand out in my mind as major “athletic” influences were Rudy & The Program. Rudy to this days makes me choke up when he get’s his admission letter to Notre Dame. Talk about someone working their ass off to achieve something EVERYBODY said was impossible. It’s one of the most inspiring stories I’ve ever heard and one that I find myself drifting back to if I ever need a kick in my balls to keep on going .
The Program influenced me to be a complete psychopath on the field, mainly because of a dude named Latimer. I used to paint my face up like a skeleton, I used to listen to the most brutal music on the side lines and pop about 15 ephedra pills to get all sorts of rowled up before a game. I actually got tested for Steroids two years in a row because of my on the field antics. Sorry NCAA, I was and still am O-natural, just psychotic.
So, to wrap this rant up, love sports hate sports I don’t really give a damn, but if you ask me to come over on a Sunday for anything other than food, massages or My Little Pony re-runs, bet your ass that you will Feel.My.Wrath.