The lament of a sports fan

I am a sports fan. I like to watch almost any sport, with the possible exception of bowling. I am not a ‘rabid’ sports fan, although I root for the local teams like Los Angeles Lakers and L.A. Angels. I have a select list of sports heroes who have entered my life suddenly, and put me under their spell. It is almost like love at first sight. Boxer Muhammad Ali was my first one. I saw him fighting a Canadian boxer in 1966. The beauty of his boxing mesmerized me, and I became a lifelong fan instantly. Tiger Woods became an instant hero when he won the 1997 Masters by 12 strokes. Tennis star Maria Sharapova is another favorite of mine, although my daughter suspects that my admiration is not purely based on her tennis skills! I look forward to the times when I can watch my heroes in action. I feel cheated and upset if something stops it from occurring. (I was quite angry when the USA Boxing Association revoked the boxing license of Muhammad Ali for refusing to be drafted for the Viet Nam war, thereby depriving the world four years of his prime boxing period).

Two weeks ago, I had found a new sports hero in the Kentucky Derby winner, Barbaro. What was made me ‘fall’ for that horse was the way he finished the race. At the end of the race, he was galloping so fast that it looked like the jockey was holding on for his dear life! (Barbaro won the race by six and half-lengths, the biggest margin in 60 years). I was so looking forward to see him win the Preakness, and the Belmont afterwards to complete the Triple Crown. I had no doubt about it, as Barbaro was so special – like Muhammad Ali and Tiger Woods. Alas, Barbaro broke his ankle in the race, and will most probably be put to sleep in a few hours. I am quite upset.