Sports? Well, truth be told, I know very little about sports. Sure, I attend the occasional ballgame here and there, but those outings are few and far between. I’m more of the quiet, indoorsy type. I don’t really do sports.
I used to watch a lot of football. Credit to my husband for teaching me the rules of the game. He knew that if I could follow what was happening, then I would be interested and not ask him to flip to another channel. Hmm. Clever. For years, I was a huge Peyton Manning fan. I once owned a pair of socks with his face on them. When he left Indy for Denver, I started cheering for the Broncos. I have no sense of loyalty or attachment to any particular team; it’s the players I’m drawn to. Much in the same way that I root for the hero or heroine in a novel, I find a player who seems like a good guy, of good character, and I become a fan. Currently, I am Team Burrow and Team Mahomes…I suppose I’m partial to quarterbacks.
March Madness was fun that one time when I gambled on a bracket. I have next to no knowledge of basketball, but I play to WIN! So I googled the hell out of all of the championship contenders, reviewed countless experts’ predictions and bizarre stats like how often a #12 seed upsets a #5. (Answer: eerily often.) I didn’t win with my bracket, but I came pretty close! The experience was fun and exciting enough to entice me to buy in the following year as well. Alas, in its opening game, my pick to win it all, #2 seed Michigan State, got stunned by Middle Tennessee, and their shocking loss blew up my entire bracket, effectively ruining my chance of winning and any future interest in March Madness or basketball in general. I haven’t watched a game since.
Soccer (or football to everyone not in America) makes absolutely no sense to me. That is A LOT of running around…for a very long time…with very few goals. Speaking of time, could someone please explain that game clock to me? How long is a game anyway? Or is it a match? Game clocks count down to 0:00—the zeroes clearly indicating that there is ZERO time left. So why then does the soccer clock count forward from zero and then stop at some random time? Surely it’s not arbitrarily decided from game to…match. I’m certain there are rules governing it; I just don’t understand it. I don’t recall “Ted Lasso” addressing this. Perhaps “Welcome to Wrexham” will clarify things. I’ll make a note to bump it to the top of my Hulu watch list. My hope is that Ryan Reynolds found this equally confusing and documented the explanation on camera. I suppose I could just google it and find the answer, but I’m lacking motivation to do so. (No bracket.)
Unlike the majority of suburban parents, we elected not to register our daughter for a youth soccer team. I found nothing appealing about battling that brutal practice schedule or, worse, waking up early on the weekends just to sit on the sidelines and bake under the hot sun. I’d much rather sleep in, enjoy a latte in my pajamas, and then either relax with a good book or maybe pop by the local arts market and leisurely browse the goods. That is much more my scene—shopping and shade.
My aversion to soccer likely stems from a traumatic experience in 6th grade P.E. I remember the pivotal moment plain as day. We were paired up to attempt penalty kicks, and little 60-lb. me was positioned as goalie against a girl who I’m convinced was the inspiration for Mirabel’s sister in “Encanto.” Pure. Strength.
On her very first kick, “Louisa” sent the ball on a collision course with my face. The ball spiraled toward me in slow motion, so slowly that I could clearly distinguish the individual purple and black polygons as it moved closer and closer before ultimately slamming into my right cheek and the side of my nose. The sound of the impact reverberated around the gym, echoed by the collective gasp from my classmates, all of whom were probably wondering how I had managed to stay afoot. I wasn’t quite sure of that myself.
My hand instinctively shot to my cheek, attempting to protect and comfort the fresh sting, as I walked directly to the coaches’ table. I was still processing what had just happened and couldn’t manage any words. I just stared at them as if to say, “You’re adults. Help me.” They looked just as stunned as I was, but did not appear at all alarmed, and simply instructed a friend to accompany me to the restroom. That’s a relief—my face must still be intact.
My reflection revealed only a faint pink tinge to the inside of my right cheek and a small trickle of blood seeping from my right nostril. I gently washed away the blood and splashed some cool water onto my cheeks. By that time, the bleeding had already stopped. But the damage was done. Soccer and I would never be friends.
You know, come to think of it, I did manage to block the goal, so I guess that counts as a technical victory. I’ll take it.
Me: 1
Louisa: 0
Soccer and me: Never again.
One sport, however, piqued my interest a couple of years ago and quickly transformed me into a fanatic…
FORMULA 1 racing.
Now, before you try to argue that the act of driving is not a sport, I invite you to consult my friend Google, which defines a sport as “an activity involving physical exertion and skill in which an individual or team competes against another or others for entertainment.” FORMULA 1 is exactly that. And it delivers on so many levels.
At the very start of a race, you are treated to a rush of adrenaline when the cars are all lined up in formation, and then suddenly it’s “LIGHTS OUT!” and they all hit the gas. Eeeeek! Opening laps can be absolutely thrilling. They keep me on the edge of my seat. Throughout each roughly two-hour race, you get to witness how different team strategies play out with their decisions regarding everything from tire selection (soft, medium, or hard?) to pit stops (one stop or two?) to the dreaded safety car—ughh.
So many factors determine a FORMULA 1 team’s success, including luck. It starts with great design, engineering, and construction. You’ve got to have a good car—fast and reliable. But you also need a driver who is capable of extracting every bit of potential from that car. A driver who is not only physically fit to endure powerful g-forces at work throughout the entire race, but also one who possesses the mental acuity needed to navigate the track, no matter the weather conditions, and to remain focused and driven (pun intended) to push through any adversity that may present itself over the course of those 44-78 laps. F1 racing is so much more than simply drive fast, turn left. (No offense, NASCAR.) Every circuit is full of twists and turns, some with elevation changes throughout. It is an incredibly complex and impressive sport that is simply thrilling to watch.
If you are not yet acquainted with FORMULA 1, it isn’t too late to jump on the bandwagon. All 5 seasons of “Formula 1: Drive to Survive” are currently available for streaming on Netflix. Go binge them all right now. You won’t be disappointed. You’ll get a hint of the excitement I’m talking about, plus there’s more drama brewing between these guys than among Bravo’s “Real Housewives.” It’s entertaining and informative, with plenty of great behind the scenes footage.
Once you’ve finished the entire series of “Drive to Survive,” buckle up, because the 2023 season of FORMULA 1 racing kicks off this weekend in Bahrain. Tune in to ESPN on Saturday morning to catch Qualifying and then enjoy the race on Sunday.
Need a hero to root for? Look no further than Sir Lewis Hamilton, a knight in shining livery. (Technically, the Mercedes car is more of a matte black this year; nonetheless, she’s a beauty.)
I became acquainted with Lewis Hamilton through an episode of “My Next Guest Needs No Introduction with David Letterman.” (Another great series available on Netflix.) Not only is he easy on the eyes, but his personality immediately draws you in, with an attitude that is the perfect blend of confidence and humility. Despite enjoying tremendous success in the sport, holding numerous records including a tie for the most world championship titles (7), Lewis is not at all boastful. That is certainly part of his charm.
As the first (and still only) Black FORMULA 1 driver, Hamilton is no stranger to adversity. His was a modest upbringing, but his parents sacrificed all that they could in order to give him the opportunities that eventually landed him a career in racing—an environment in which he has not always been welcome. So, while he is arguably the greatest FORMULA 1 driver of all time, he is also somewhat of an underdog. And who doesn’t like a Cinderella story?
Hamilton recognizes that his success has given him a platform upon which to be an agent for change. Inspired by his own hurdles, and out of genuine empathy for others, he regularly speaks out on human rights and societal issues even when he knows that he will face backlash for it. And he does far more than simply raising awareness through his voice. In addition to his many other charitable donations, Hamilton is the founder of Mission 44, an organization which aims to empower underprivileged youth by improving education; promoting diversity, equity, and inclusion; and providing resources and opportunities to young people who have been historically left behind.
I mean, how can you not love this guy? This is exactly the kind of hero that I like to root for.
So from now through Thanksgiving, I will be avidly following all things FORMULA 1, and not only on those 23 Grand Prix weekends but every moment in between. I will analyze stats on each circuit, whether the track favors high or low downforce and how one or the other could determine Hamilton’s chance of success. In the days leading up to each race, I will anxiously keep a watchful eye on the local weather forecast, sometimes hoping for rain if statistics suggest that a wet track would be in Lewis’s favor. I will drive my husband crazy, constantly calling his attention to yet another article discussing what transpired at the most recent race.
Above all this, I will be keeping my fingers crossed that Mercedes has improved upon last year’s disaster of a car and has given Hamilton the machine he needs to win an unprecedented 8th world title, thereby cementing his legacy as the greatest FORMULA 1 driver of all time.
Last year was a difficult one for us Hamilton fans. Let’s hope 2023 is a more enjoyable ride.