Sporty Spice

To the untrained eye, my summer has been an exercise given to me on how to get past shit. The assortment of conflicts that stuck onto me is still dizzying, and I'm still trying to keep my head on straight, but in so many ways, it's been a blessing. I feel really strong without feeling powerful, which is good for me, and I want to let whoever reads this know that my life is solid and I'm trying to open up channels for resolution and acceptance. I still need other peoples' willingness to work with me, but otherwise the table is set.

In a cruel twist, the summer's wounds and scabs have been the most visible signs of my season. However, right through the endless trail of fights with my friends and my girlfriend and my brother and my mom and my dad and everyone who was important to me, there was a non-sarcastically important revelation in my life-- sports, and my faith in sports, can carry me through... anything...?

The results are clear: I teared up while watching sports that my eyes never dreamed of tearing up about- golf, tennis, gymnastics, swimming, exhibition football games, sports commercials, even fucking ceremonies that just were about sports. I actually participated in fantasy soccer for a few weeks. Reading offseason football rumors filled up vast portions of my day. I started again to peek into bars from the street to check the score of the game. And I liked the Celtics for a few minutes.

Those are tangible moments of my ridiculous sports secret life. To follow sports like this was never expected of me, not even from me. I knew I liked them, I just never knew I needed them. And so friends came and left. Between work and sleep, I fought off my sadness, and willed things to get better. And I watched Wimbledon. And when Nadal won, I cried. Not for anyone else but me, for being witness to spontaneous greatness. And when I found myself pulling for Rocco Mediate to upset Tiger in the U.S. Open, I stared in awe. I cared about golf. Tiger won, and I felt it inside again. He won the 18 hole playoff on one knee and it felt like I could do it. Accomplishment was everything. And so between Garnett's euphoria, Crosby vs Zetterberg, Turkey's Euro miracles, Manny Pacquiao winning his fight, Tiger's arthroscopic knee surgery, the best tennis player ever being dethroned in the best tennis match ever, Brett Favre, China making everything insane, and the rising prospect of the 08-09 college football season, along with the always present blanket of the Mets kind of winning, I realized the overwhelming presence of accomplishment in the world, and in a way, sports and its stunning victories and failures were my fuel to ignite my transformation from weak to strong Paolo all in one season. And sports gave me love and faith in people, which is why this summer was the best summer of my life.