Loser’s Paradise

Though I am a sports fanatic, I rarely write about my fandom obsessions. There is so much blather surrounding every nuance of coaching maneuvers, player fails, nonsensical trades, tearful retirements, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, that the last thing anyone needs is another pretend pundit. I have no intention of adding to the avalanche of inanity.

I cannot, however, resist revisiting the worst sports weekend of my life. It started Thursday night when my beloved Phillies once again bowed out early in the baseball playoffs, this time in horrendously bizarre fashion. I have to face that their window of opportunity to win it all with these players has probably closed.

While that debacle was unfolding, the Eagles were cooking up their own catastrophe, getting blown out by a hated Divisional rival. Not only was this embarrassing, it was incomprehensible for a team that seemed destined to make a strong bid to repeat last year’s triumphs. The Super Bowl hangover is in full bloom. 

I was mercifully given a day of rest on Friday, only to face an apocalyptic Saturday of college football. The day started with the team I have rooted for the longest, Penn State, going down to its third straight ignominious defeat to a second rate Big 10 opponent, one it was picked to beat by more than 20 points. Happy Valley it is not.

The evening ended with watching my alma mater, South Carolina, throw away its once promising season and devolve into mediocrity once again. Not only was the loss to LSU dispiriting, but it highlighted how deluded we all were in thinking that the Gamecocks could compete in the SEC. It’s just another year where the possibility of beating Clemson is all we have to look forward to.

On lesser notes, the Flyers started their NHL season with two losses. The Sixers got blown out in a pre-season game, prefiguring the many blowouts to come. And to top it all off, I lost my fantasy football matchup when my players accumulated 50 points less than the week before. Frankly, it felt like piling on.

As I sat in stunned silence Monday morning, looking back at the devastation, the true nature of sports fandom dawned on me. Sports apologists tell us that sport can provide life lessons in teamwork, discipline, resilience and leadership. But the truth of the matter is that what it provides more than anything else is harsh instruction in the art of losing.

Let’s discard the notion that losing is somehow ennobling or loveable. It’s not. It is just depressing. It hangs on you like a shroud, blotting out all goodness in the world. (OK, that’s hyperbolic, but it’s been a tough week).

Sports fans are like the pledges in Omega Theta Pi in “Animal House”. We bend over, get whacked in the butt and then scream at the top of our lungs, “Thank you sir. May I have another?” And the sports world is never reticent in providing that whack with all the glee that a Douglas Niedermeyer could muster. 

Let’s do the math. Over my 43 years in Philadelphia I have endured 166 professional seasons. Overall, these teams have won 3 championships; the Phillies in 2008, the Eagles in 2018 and 2025. Ten other Philadelphia teams have at least competed in the finals during that same time period. Penn State and South Carolina combined have played 86 seasons since 1983, with 2 PSU championships and another year where they were robbed. South Carolina has never been close. That means that my teams got a whiff of glory in only .063% of those seasons, and won it .016% of the time. Bleak indeed.

You could say that the continuing dedication to my teams despite this abysmal record is a sign of the resiliency that sport is supposed to engender. Then again, ramming your head into a brick wall again, and again, and again, and again could also be a sign of resilience. Let’s face it, there is a thin line between resiliency and stupidity. 

For all of that, hope is eternal. The NFL season is still young. The Eagles could rebound and find the magic once again. Maybe the young Flyers will mature quickly and shock the hockey world. If Embiid’s knees can regrow cartilage and allow him to play at least ⅔ of the regular season games and be healthy for the playoffs, who knows. In other words, it’s time to assume the position. “Thank you Sir. May I have another?”