My name is John, and I am a victim of Sports Anxiety Disorder (SOD). SOD is a disease whereby a person cares way too much about the outcomes of athletic events. On Saturday my alma mater lost to Wisconsin in a close game. During the course of the game I cursed the referees, called the Wisconsin players skin head Nazis and their coach a boozer who beat women just because he wore his hair slicked back. On several occasions I had to leave the room so I wouldn’t have to watch a Wisconsin possession. At the end my disappointment in a Vandy loss was slightly relieved by the warm feeling that my SOD was over at least until next season.
Pitiful. A 63 year old man caring so much about what happened to a group of young men wearing black and gold who would be graduating 40 years after he did. What is wrong with me?
I have been doing some self-therapy. I remind my self that I am one of almost 7 billion of my species and the universe is billions of years old and there are billions of universes. There is famine in Africa. Christ died for my sins.
All that helps a little, but I do have one thing I cling to at least for this year.
Duke got beat by Leheigh.