Two
climbers scale 3,000 feet up the face of Yosemite’s El Capitan using just their
hands and feet, oh, and safety ropes. Is
that sport? A blindfolded Nik Wallenda
walks a wire suspended 543 feet above the streets of Chicago from one Marina
Tower to the other, all without a net.
Is that sport? Reese Witherspoon portrays
the woman who walked 1000 miles more or less by herself in order to
prove…something. Is that sport, or when
people venture out across Death Valley or the English Channel or the distance
from the tip of Florida to Cuba, a support team to monitor their progress? Or the person who sets out across the ocean,
alone, in a tripped-out rowboat?
No,
sport is a bat and ball with a fence for definition or a pool divided into
lanes, a digital clock separating the winners from everyone else. Sport is the primal assault of a safety blitz
and the now more sad than not career of Michael Jordan. The other stuff is an endeavor that means
whatever its participants want, minus the hype.
I’ll take sport.
No comments:
Post a Comment