Why Sports Matter

The final out of the 2004 World Series. When the Red Sox broke the 86 year Curse of the Bambino and finally won a title again.

I watched this with my Dad. I was 11 years old, and we were the only two in the house who stayed up to witness it. It's burned in my memory. Sitting on the old couch in my living room, staring at the big TV in the corner, watching the emotion in my Dad's eyes as we shared the moment together.

I think it's the most cherished sporting event that I've ever witnessed in my life. And is a core memory I have with my Dad. The next day we drove to his own Dad's gravesite and laid the Boston Globe onto his headstone. And now my Dad's ashes lie there with my Grandfather in that same graveyard.

To me, that moment encapsulates why sports matter to us as people. It's family. It's community. It's history. It's tradition. It's suffering. It's adversity. It's defeat. It's triumph. It's memory. It's a reflection of life itself.

My love of baseball has faded in the last decade or so. But this will forever be a moment in time that I'll hold onto and cherish.

Happy Birthday Dad. You're right next to me when I watch this.

-ZB