It’s not that I hate sports, sports are fine.
Many people I love and respect are sport-ball fans of varying degrees, but for me, I just can’t bring myself to care. And I’ve tried, really.
I remember as a kid collecting baseball and football cards, and as a younger man I would half-heartedly seek out sports pages or radio spots – neither for any sort of enjoyment on my part, but just so I could talk to my classmates/coworkers about it.
I’ve tried to care, and yet…meh.
Listening to sportball fans amongst themselves, with the stats and the trades and the felonies and the massive massive paychecks (those last two are able to hold my attention, as it happens) must be like someone without kids listening to a bunch of dads talk. Except instead of playoffs or rankings, it’s more about managing the timing and locations of poop.
I know, it’s hard for the uninitiated to understand, but this stuff is fascinating to the average new papa. Cloth or disposable, nap schedules, the solid food spectrum and its effects on digestion – get any 2 dads together and it’s like watching Terry Bradshaw gabble on with other well dressed neck-less men on the half time show. And when you think of all the accessories, all the gear a new papa has to juggle; high chairs, baby carriers, car seats, it does make one question the absence of an Xzibit-hosted “Pimp My Stroller” on one of those channels that show stuff.
They have a show about bearded men making duck decoys. Where’s my stroller show, Learning Channel? If that is your real name.
But as deep as a papa goes on what should be both personal and disgusting, we’re bush league amateurs compared to a new mom. I’ve seen women meet for the first time at the daycare and inside of two minutes they’re discussing topics to make the raunchiest proctologist giggle and blush.
Part of that is the radical intimacy of parenthood. Words like “personal” and “private” pretty much lose all relevance in that first week. And dialing it back for the general public requires studious practice that none of us really have the energy for right now.
The other thing is that this is our lives. Dealing with these topics/items/bodily functions define our existence during this time of our lives. We measure seconds and years by this junk.
So if you’re one of those wealthy, rested people who don’t have kids, and you find yourself caught in a crossfire of bumbo vs bouncy chair, judge us not too harshly. If you smile politely and wait I guarantee you won’t have long before we either rush off to save toddlers from themselves or just nod off.