For those with attention spans greater than a fruit fly, I am reading a pretty good book called the "Tropic of Hockey" by Dave Bidini about a guy who goes and plays hockey in some unlikely places. It's a first person narrative, with a lot of random references and goes off on hockey-related tangents but it has been a nice read.
One particular highlight for me is a paragraph I want to share ...
"One of the beautiful things about sports is that, even when you feel terrible, at least you feel. Sports taps into emotions we guard for the rest of our waking hours. hose who play sports, or who pledge love for their favourite teams, often find it impossible to express these feelings to wives, husbands, or children. We use games to vent our spirit, behaving in ways we can't at work or home. Because we spend so much time in offices talking to people we don't know or pretending to be someone we aren't, sports is an outlet where we can suddenly be ourselves, where it's okay to tour the extremities of passion and despair."
I know exactly what he means and wholly agree.