Now, stretching an analogy or two, it could be argued that (in particular) men’s love of sport, and in this context particularly watching sport, is something that takes us back to our ‘hunting party’ past.
That is, a connection to the time when we as hunter-gatherers went out as a group to capture and kill a piece of protein (food that moves).
There was a time when a hunter might not come back from the hunt
Back then, sometimes some of the (hunting) team didn’t come back – they became the huntee, a casualty of the chase.
You can imagine that there would always be a good reason for celebration when everyone did arrive home safely.
Now, arriving home safely from the supermarket doesn’t have quite the same underlying notion of escape from danger about it.
The proxy that many of us take instead though is sport.
Many of us are far too obsessive about it. Our moods ebb and flow on the performance of a particular team.
Which is pretty stupid really.
There’s passion about a sport, and then there’s fanaticism.
That’s where there’s a life and death type relationship with sport.
But it’s just a game – exciting, entertaining, enjoyable – in the end essentially meaningless.
It’s just a game; nobody dies, the result a minor matter in the great scheme of things.
(And if you still want to check some sport out, check out the Blog Buttermouth for the top 10 free streaming sports websites)
And Richard Irvine’s got a good all round handle on sports. Check him out here at Sports Review.