Sports, for me and I suspect many others, is a companion. On almost any day, regardless of the time of year, no matter what else might be going on in your life, sports is there. Sometimes just checking scores can provide escape from either the dullness of everyday life or the pressures of everyday life. As I’ve written before, I still vividly remember how happy I was to be able to watch Mets-Brewers highlights on the day of my heart surgery (even though the Mets lost) in part because I was alive to watch them but in part because they were a reminder that there were going to be games to watch during my recovery period at home. I needed to know that. So perhaps I am addicted.
If so, there can be worse addictions. I don’t gamble on sports; never have and never wanted to. I get emotional about sports but not so much about who wins and who loses but who has a story worth telling. I guess in that sense, given what I do, I am different than a lot of people. That’s not to say I don’t care at all about ‘my,’ teams anymore. I still roll my eyes at the mediocrity of the Mets (not to mention their doctors) and, as history has proven, I can get wound up about Navy football. Army football too, as a matter of fact.
More often though, it is about individuals. That’s why I laugh when others in my business claim to be ‘objective.’ I make no such claims.” —John Feinstein’s blog is mostly this trove of forgotten stories and people—with a few cameos from the biggest athletes in the world—which is why I’m already awaiting his next book, a chance for him to “go back to talk to a lot of the people I’ve met along the way who I found either interesting or challenging.”