The Sports Hiatus Express

We here at Oregon Sports News are ginourmous fans of those special sports someones who check our site more than that one awful friend who constantly checks their iPhone.  We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the nittiest of gritty sportshumans:

Those that scour for info about the Ducks’ off tackle… in May… of his senior season… in high school.

Those that watch the entire NBA draft lottery instead of just checking results right after, hoping that their own eyeball magic can somehow control Blazer ping pong balls, forcing their way into slot numero uno.

Those that refresh Beaver pigskin rumor sites more than their inbox, praying that Mannion somehow found his way into the arms of Josh Freeman’s old QB mentor.

Those that spill more honesty into Blazers Edge forums than they do to their spouse, and secretly plan to name their firstborn (boy, or girl) Walton.

Alright, so maybe that last one’s a bit much. (Just kidding, especially the last one, shhhh.)

It’s beyond safe to say all you maniacs are what drive all us maniacs to post.

Now all that being said, I just landed from a little bit of a sports hiatus.

Besides work being insane and health going haywire, a big reason of my absence was bitterness.

Bitterness in the form of Derrick Rose’s ACL snapping.

After zombie-ing through the rest of our series with a whippy 76ers squadron, I died a little inside.  And actually, I barely watched the rest of it.  I caught myself forgetting the games were on.

I went, of all places, outside.

It was a weird time for me.  I’ve always been super connected to sports.  Dissecting every move.  Predicting every fast break.  Being the phantom GM for all 32 NFL teams.

But after a fateful twist of that oh-so-important-to-all-that-is-Chicago-sports-right-now knee, I shut off and shut down.

And not to bore you with any of the edge-of-your-seat! spellbinding! get yo’ popcorn ready! details…

But it was kinda nice.

So let’s fast forward through that phase and get to The Best Part of my sports hiatus, which ended up being, the re-incarnation of my fandom.

Full of wonder, I shyly walked through the glimmering front gates of Sportsatopia by watching the San Antonio Spurs play basketball against the Oklahoma City Thunder.

Cue… love.

Every Durant dunk was an explosion of joy.

Every Timmy D 17 footer was pure bliss.

Harden and Ginobli glided across the floor, dancing with my heart, delicately laying droplets of sugarplums into red-orange versions of my arms outstretched and shaped like a ring, my hairy chest a backboard of nipple happiness and pectoral glee.

It was just as every self-help blog had ever told me while I was huddled in the fetus position, trying to get over an ex:

You don’t know what you have, until it’s gone.

So I laughed and cried and rejoiced through playoff basketball at its finest hour, and slapped my knee and pointed at my imaginary friend and he pointed back and we were back!  Back I say!

Sports re-entered my life!

Was staying away tough?  A little.

But was being back after this hiatus a supremely awesome lesson in appreciation?  100%.

Should I have more sports hiatuses?  Probably.

But I don’t think I’ll ever plan them.  Like this one, like the celery snap of a timid and overworked knee ligament, they’re just gonna happen.  They’ll be as organic as the kraut from my co-op trip yesterday, fermented with the bacteria of growing animosity for sporting and increasing disdain for the torturous little sports-dumps that cloud my mind whenever I’m over-feasted and gluttonous.

So I bid you, oh Maniacness of the Sportsatopia, if you find yourself more jigsaw jaded than happy go lucky when sports dons your television apparatus, do yourself a little favor, trust me on this one, and take a sweet, sweet ride on the Sports Hiatus Express.

Don’t worry, we’ll still be here, and you’ll be back before you know it.  And who knows?  Maybe you and the significant other can even settle on Bill.