Column: Sports was my first love

On the surface level, Sports is entertainment. It’s a constant, always present outlet from ordinary life. It evokes feelings of, “oh man today sucked, but hey, there’s a game on tonight!”

But for those who are genuinely devoted to sports, there’s more to it.

Personally, being a sports fan is part of my identity. I’ve naturally associated myself with teams that I cheer for — sometimes more so than with teams I’ve been personally a part of. There’s something inspiring about rooting for something bigger than myself.

I feel the same way as Brad Pitt at the end of Moneyball when he said, “it’s hard to not be romantic about baseball.”

Sports is: A dream ignitor 

My dad woke my six-year-old self up late one summer night to watch our favorite baseball player — Micheal Young of the Texas Rangers — hit a go-ahead triple in the top of the ninth at the MLB all-star game, earning himself MVP honors. 

Being a kid who spent hours in my east Texas back yard playing baseball, seeing somebody I pretended to be like do something remarkable stuck with me. That instance, along with others I’ve accumulated — such as seeing another idol of mine Jimmer Fredette take BYU to the sweet 16 and winning the Naismith player of the year award — have helped me realize something: I want to aspire to do incredible things in my life, just like these guys.

Deven Thompkins, a junior wide receiver at Utah State, recently mentioned that when he erupted for an 80-yard touchdown run in his first football game at seven years old, he realized “this is what I love to do more than anything in this world.” That moment ignited his desire to be up there with Jerry Rice and Deon Sanders as the greatest player to ever play the game, as he views them and has done since childhood.

Seeing childhood idols succeed for me — or for others, personal athletic success — helps to realize from a young age that great things, inordinary feats of success, can be obtained with the appropriate amount of commitment.

Sports is: A social bridge 

Serving my mission in Argentina, there were several cultural and social barriers that prevented me from naturally connecting with people. I found that talking soccer with them, asking them which local team they favored or how they felt Argentina was doing on the international stage, broke down the invisible barrier and made them comfortable enough to discuss things of greater consequence. 

Pope Francis, an Argentine, once said, “Sport is not only a form of entertainment but also — and above all I would say — a tool to communicate values that promote the good that is in humans.” 

Sports is: A brotherhood

It’s not uncommon that in high school and early adulthood relationships can evolve, some will mature and some will dissolve, that’s just the result when people have diverging paths. Time is limited and priorities can change. However, one thing was a glue that kept my friends and I constantly united: The Utah Jazz. Gathering at each other’s homes to watch the games was a uniter, keeping “the boys” all linked together. Moments like dog piling after Joe Johnson hit a buzzer-beater to beat the Los Angeles Clippers in the first game of the Jazz’s first playoff appearance in five years; or assembling to watch rookie sensation Donovan Mitchell drop 38 points in a closeout playoff game against the Oklahoma City Thunder.

Following sports closely with others can grow and maintain cherished friendships. 

Sports is:  A heartbreaker

Sure, it’s shallow to compare letdowns from your sports teams to unfortunate events in real life. But when I was 11 years old, that line was blurred, resulting in much distress when things didn’t go my way. 

My beloved Texas Rangers found itself leading the St. Louis Cardinals 7-5 in the bottom of the ninth of game six of the 2011 World Series, one strike away from winning it all. On the possible final pitch, Cardinal David Freese got a hold of a Neftali Feliz fastball and sent it to deep right field. Trying to chase it down, right fielder Nelson Cruz extended his glove in an attempt to make the catch, but couldn’t reach it. The ball bounced off the wall and two runners scored. 

Freese would hit a walk off home run to win game six, the Cardinals took game seven with ease. The Rangers lost the World Series, crushing my aspirations and sending me into tears. Oddly enough, as time goes on I’ve grown to value the occurrence, as it has taught me a simple yet powerful lesson: Things don’t always work out the way you want them to, and that’s ok. 

Sports is: A moment in time 

Skewered in-between the day-to-day grind, specific occurrences can impact the way we perceive or recall episodes of our life. Sports can serve us these moments, in all the aforementioned ways: by inspiring us, connecting us to others, or breaking our hearts. But the best moments are the simple ones, served up in an unbridled, joyful fashion.  

Which brings us to last March in Las Vegas. 

Tied at 56 with seconds remaining in the Mountain West Championship game, Utah State guard Sam Merrill had the ball in his hands and stared down San Diego State’s KJ Feagin, looking to hit a shot that would cement his team’s spot in the NCAA tournament. In what would ultimately be the senior’s final offensive play in an Aggie uniform, he went to his left, stepped back, and drilled a 26 foot three-pointer for the win. 

Being an Aggie student, journalist and fan, it was an iconic moment to witness in person, bringing a surge of adrenaline that I’ll remember forever. In the days that followed, the ongoing coronavirus pandemic forced the NCAA to cancel the tournament and with it, Utah State’s chances of winning their first tournament game since 2001 ended as well. But that shot will live on, a poetic finish to Merrill’s Aggie career and USU’s season, and for me, a wonderful moment in time. 

@jacobnielson12

—sports@usustatesman