April 29, 2020 by Philip Lewenstein

Not Missing TV Sports

I am a TV-sports addict, but I don’t miss the games. I can live without them—at least for now. Sports are an integral part of society’s fabric and serve many purposes, but they are not life or death (except maybe for a Vikings’ playoff game or a Lakers-Celtics’ championship series). The coronavirus, however, is life or death.

The numbers are staggering. As of mid-April, there were more than 672,000 cases of the virus in the United States and more than 33,000 deaths. In the last week, I sadly read about the deaths of the mothers of Timberwolves’ star Karl-Anthony Towns and Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison.

Nevertheless, the pause in live sports leaves a big gap in our lives. As Chris Ballard of Sports Illustrated said recently, “Games provide a constant in a world short of them. Of course, this is all trivial and even weird to discuss in the perspective of life and death. Of course, suspending games was the right thing to do. But, nonetheless, it adds to the heartbreak and disruption—the feeling that the world as we knew it, no longer exists (April 2020).”

Television has transformed sports, shaping key aspects of the games, and sports have played an important role in TV’s development and growth. Today, sports are a big business owing to the high-stakes competition for TV money. Increasingly, TV sports have become an enjoyable and time-consuming part of my life.

My path to TV-sports addiction began as a child in Duluth in the early to mid-1950s as I tolerated the fuzzy reception on our early black-and-white TV. Sports broadcasting was relatively new, and few games were shown. I recall my grandfather watching the Friday Night Fights, later called the Gillette Cavalcade of Sports. I watched the state high-school basketball tournament every March (then, one class of eight teams), the Gophers’ two Rose Bowl appearances, and the baseball game of the week every Saturday with Dizzy Dean and Pee Wee Reese.

In fact, radio was my go-to medium. I listened to the Gopher football games each Saturday, the Milwaukee Braves’ baseball games every night until the Twins arrived in 1961, and the University of Minnesota-Duluth basketball games. The Bulldogs were one of the nation’s top small-college teams in those days.

I purchased a small black-and-white TV while in college, and it followed me to several cities over about five years. However, I didn’t have time to watch much, and the reception was usually poor in most locations.

In October 1973, my small TV and I moved to St. Paul after two plus years working in southern California. My father delivered a color TV to me just in time to watch the World Series between the Oakland As and New York Mets (the As won in seven games). A new world opened to me.

More than 25 years later, my family subscribed to cable TV so we could watch the 1999 FIFA Women’s World Cup Final—U.S. over China 5-4 in penalties on July 10. Now, the market is saturated with TV games on many channels over major networks, regional networks, and several sports networks. For example, I watch ESPN and its spinoffs, TNT, BTN (Big Ten Network), and professional sports networks, including MLB, NBA, NHL, and NFL.

For more than 30 years, I attended games regularly—Gopher basketball and sometimes hockey, Gopher football, Twins, Timberwolves, and occasionally Vikings. Now, as a retiree, I am content to sink into my sofa seat and indulge in a full array of week-night games and endless weekend games and events.

My viewing habits sometimes defy logic, giving credence to addiction. I continue to watch the futile, failing efforts of the Timberwolves year after year as well as the often underperforming Wild. Barely hanging on to memories of their 1991 World Series title, I remain loyal and regularly watch the Twins. And I would never alter my decadeslong ritual of watching every Vikings game whether on Sunday, Monday, or Thursday night.

After more than 30 years of attending every Gopher basketball game, I switched to viewing the team on TV, enduring a few exciting victories but more painful losses. I watch all Gopher football games, a masochistic exercise until last season. The past two years, I have added the Minnesota United Loons to my overcrowded TV schedule. Out of necessity, I have mastered the remote and improved my dexterity in channel hopping.

I watch my favorite women’s basketball team—the Lynx—when their games are televised, which is never enough because women’s sports remain secondary in the big business of TV sports. I enjoy Gopher women’s basketball, volleyball, and softball, if they are televised.

Beyond viewing the local teams, I have to watch my favorite West Coast teams, the Lakers (my all-time favorite basketball team) and Golden State Warriors as well as the USC football team. Then, there are the nationally-televised football, basketball, baseball, and hockey games, both professional and college. Add major events including Grand Slam tennis tournaments, major golf tournaments, the Olympics, the Indy 500, and the Kentucky Derby.

So it was a jolt to my system when abruptly in March, the games stopped—right before the finals of the girls’ state basketball tournament and a week before the boys’ tournament, in the midst of the Big Ten basketball tournament, and just before Selection Sunday and March Madness. Seasons were put on hold to help contain and mitigate the virus.

What a disappointing time to pause sports. The arrival of spring heralds many great events beyond the end of high school and college basketball: the NBA and NHL playoffs, the opening of Major League Baseball, the Masters golf tournament, the Kentucky Derby, Major League Soccer, and much more. Other victims of the virus have been spring high-school sports and the start of many kids’ sports and recreation activities.

I thought I would be grieving for the absence of these games and events. I am grieving but not for the lack of live sports; I am grieving for the thousands of people who have died from the coronavirus and for their families. I am grieving for the millions of people affected by economic recession owing to the coronavirus.

Moreover, I am grieving for not being able to gather with my children, some of whom share watching TV sports with me. I am a prisoner in my home, without TV games, not allowed to venture out except for a daily walk. This year’s family Passover Seder was conducted via Zoom.

Certainly, some alternatives to live TV games exist. The local news shows and cable networks continue to include sports segments and shows. ESPN offers classic games, which don’t interest me except for the Laker-Celtic dramas. Netflix is a substitute for live TV games, and I enjoy reading, most recently, The Back Roads to March: The Unsung, Unheralded, and Unknown Heroes of a College Basketball Season by John Feinstein. The book highlights the dream and journey of midmajor D-1 basketball teams to the NCAA tournament.

Fortunately, I can still read the StarTribune sports section with my favorite columnists, 100-year-old Sid Hartman and the veteran Pat Reusse. The section consists of four pages rather than 8, 12, or 16. There is some sports news reported such as preparations for the NFL and WNBA drafts and the effects of the shutdown on teams, athletes, and businesses as well as speculation for reopening scenarios.

The “This Week in Minnesota” feature has brought back memories of two former Minnesota basketball teams. The Minnesota Muskies in 1968 was a newly-formed ABA team that played at the old Met Center in Bloomington. I attended a game with college friends from my dorm and recall a red, white, and blue ball and three-point line. In 1981, the Minnesota Fillies played three seasons in the Women’s Professional Basketball League. I did not see them play.

But my primary replacement for sports is watching daily reporting on the virus, especially on CNN. My wife and I appreciate the work of the many outstanding reporters and anchors including but not limited to Anderson Cooper, Wolf Blitzer, John King, Chris Cuomo, Jake Tapper, Don Lemon, and the indefatigable Dr. Sonjay Gupta, who appears on every show during the day and evening.

Throughout the day, I read insightful reporting and analysis in print and/or online in the StarTribune, New York Times, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, and Time. Mental-health experts suggest taking a break from the continuous news cycle, but tracking the news these days is as part of my current lifestyle as watching TV games in pre-virus days.

Rather than admiring LeBron James or Kawhi Leonard in the NBA playoffs or Alex Ovechkin or Sydney Crosby in the NHL playoffs, I am admiring national leaders like New York Governor Andrew Cuomo, whose daily briefing is part of my morning TV routine, and the public- health experts like Dr. Anthony Fauci, a former high-school basketball captain. In Minnesota, I appreciate the leadership of Governor Tim Walz and Health Commissioner Jan Malcolm.

I admire the heroes on the front lines battling the virus, from first responders including paramedics, police, and firefighters to all types of health workers, nurses, doctors, and coroners who demonstrate incredible courage each day often without adequate protection.

I admire the many Americans who have adapted to the new world, including those obeying the stay-at-home orders, employees adjusting to working at home, educators changing to online instruction and their students learning remotely, and businesses altering their normal mission to develop and produce items needed in the war against the virus.

At the same time, as I watch the daily coronavirus task-force briefings from the White House, I am appalled at the failure of the Trump administration to plan, prepare, and respond to the pandemic. I am outraged at the lack of national leadership, the failure to listen, recognize, and resolve the problems. How can a wealthy nation like the United States lack the necessary supplies, equipment, and protective gear so desperately needed by those fighting the virus?

The disgraceful, daily performance by President Trump, often two hours of self-adulation, lies, and disrespectful, denigrating behavior toward journalists makes me yearn for an immediate escape to TV games.

Steve Kerr, coach of the Golden State Warriors, effectively summarized this situation:

“That’s one of the great things about sports,” Kerr said. “You turn it on when you need an escape and you’re going through a difficult time, and so this is pretty unique when sports are specifically turned off.

“Obviously there are more important things right now, people’s health being number one and people’s jobs and livelihood number two. I don’t think anyone’s feeling sorry for themselves because they can’t watch sports, but it’s just weird. It’s a strange vibe just to go home and turn on a game just to escape.”

Given the severity of the coronavirus crisis, I don’t grieve for the absence of the TV games. But I anxiously await their return because it will mean more life, less death.