Ever seen that ESPN Classic show with John McEnroe when he sort of shrugs his shoulders and says, “I guess I have a problem with my anger?” All I’m saying is this: if they ever make Sportscentury and Beyonds about intramural football, that’ll be me sitting there, shrugging my shoulders and saying “I guess I have a problem with my anger.”
I was suspended for tomorrow night’s game. I admit this. Last week, I threw a ball at a kid twice who was gloating about his amazing, superior and altogether unbelievable intramural athletic ability. I had already been riding the referees, who had specifically taken my team aside at the beginning of the game and said “no contact at all,” and then let most contact go, as long as it was the other team doing the contacting. The exchanges went something like this.
Contact.
Me: “Hey ref, didn’t you specifically say no contact today?”
Ref: “Well yeah, but it’s allowed on that type of play.”
Me: “Jesus Christ, do you suck.”
Anyways, after a half of this, and markedly bad play by me, I was none too amused when the referees started making more and more horrendous calls that conveniently went against our team, every single time. And then the gloating and the bragging and the “I’m the single-greatest intramural stud of a football player who ever played on the hallowed fields next to the Mullins Center.” So I threw a football at him. Twice. And pushed him a little bit. Probably mouthed off as well. Definitely mentioned my thoughts about him. Other than that however, I didn’t do anything that had warranted a suspension. Ok, I definitely threw a t-shirt at the referee after the game, and asked the line judge just how many times he’d played Madden 2001 on Playstation 2 before they gave him a whistle.
So before passing any more judgment on these particular referees – one of them was the kind of guy who plays a lot of Magic in private but doesn’t admit it on the off-chance that a fraternity somewhere is going to invite him to a party – allow me to say the following about my athletic career. It has been marginal at best. I’ve played for five championship teams (two soccer, and three baseball) and otherwise, I’ve played for total losers. I had a baseball team go 5-22. I had a soccer team go 0-5-2. I’ve experienced, I would dare say, far more defeat than I have victory.
My intramural career has been even worse. I’ve won three games: my first softball game, the only flag football game of my freshman year, and a volleyball game last year. Oh, a forfeit a few weeks ago when the “Newman Knights” (as if that isn’t the most Crusade-sounding name they could have picked) didn’t show up to face the “Basement Dwellers.” Otherwise, through six intramural ‘seasons,’ I’ve never won. There is an intramural team (with their own website and game recaps!) called the Basses that has never won, ever, so I guess I’m not the worst off. But in losing so much, it feels like it.
However, while losing, I’ve come to expect a certain amount of respect from opponents. I don’t show up and accept a loss. I don’t lollygag around the field, being depressed that I’m about to lose. I play hard. I won’t mouth off if I score a touchdown; I won’t go crazy if I win a game. That doesn’t seem like a standard that would be so tough for opponents to live up to. Unfortunately, some don’t. And that brings out the other side of me. Shall we say, I have a tendency, when possible, to bend the rules. I also will play extra physical, and it is likely, especially if the opponents are being especially arrogant, that I will start to run my mouth. And I don’t stop running my mouth. Rarely is my concern what I’m saying. Should I retake the lead, the jawing will stop. Winning is satisfactory in it of itself; I certainly don’t need to gloat to feel good about victory.
These seem like rules that are practical enough.
1. In winning, do not gloat. It is satisfying enough to simply win.
2. In losing, don’t complain. This does not apply if:
3. The other team consists of jerks. At this point, cheat to win.
It seems this is applicable to the real world. I’m not one to moralize for others, but in doing something well, why gloat? If not doing something well, accept it and attempt to rectify the situation. This only isn’t true when the situation is being partially affected by jerks.
For instance: I have friends who had a couch. It belonged to a former roommate who moved out. The former roommate said, “you can have the couch.” The current friends asked, “are you absolutely sure we can have this couch?” The former roommate said, “I am absolutely sure.” So the friends threw out their other couch – there isn’t enough room in Alpine Commons for multiple couches – and enjoyed the new couch. Until the former roommate made a stunning return, saying that she was back to pick up the couch.
My friends should have fought harder to keep the couch, but they are nice people, so nobody really told the former roommate that she’d given them the couch so it was no longer hers. And the former roommate got the couch. My friends have put cushions on a coffee table and are currently using that as their couch. It is the saddest thing of all time.
Which leads me back to my intramural suspension. Some could argue that, “no Sam, getting suspended is the saddest thing of all time, not the loss of your friend’s couch.” Those people are wrong. The fact is that, as guys who go out and play sports, we shouldn’t have to tolerate the asinine behavior of our opposition. I feel bad that I responded the way I did, but if the referees will go unpunished by the intramural office for their unbelievable lack of skill when it comes to “knowing anything about football,” and if the other team will go unpunished for “gloating like crazy,” why should I go punished for standing up for myself? I’d rather be suspended pointing out the obvious than lose, accepting the painful. Meanwhile, the season is over and unfortunately, my team isn’t going to make the playoffs so my retirement from intramural football is complete. Which means this column is over.
Or is it?
My friends still don’t have a couch. Do you have one? Do you have a couch you’re trying to get rid of? If it’s not beer-stained, my friends will take it. Please feel free to send an email to [email protected]. I’m serious. You have no idea how hard it is to look at my friends, sitting on cushions on a coffee table, privately hoping that it might actually be a couch.
Sam Wilkinson is a Collegian columnist.
