I’ve been musing lately on sport. Watching the fallout from scandal at Penn State, we’re reminded that football is god and country at most major American universities. By the end of this week, the whole world will turn its eyes toward London for the Olympics. And here at home, I’m ridiculously invested in a summer-long death battle on the tennis courts with my buddy Brad.
Why this obsession with sport?
The Judge has something to say about it:
“Men are born for games. Nothing else. Every child knows that play is nobler than work. He knows too that the worth or merit of a game is not inherent in the game itself but rather in the value of that which is put at hazard. Games of chance require a wager to have any meaning at all. Games of sport involve the skills and strength of the opponents and the humiliation of defeat and the pride of victory are in themselves sufficient stake because they inhere in the worth of the principals and define them. But trial of chance or trial of worth all games aspire to the condition of war for here that which is wagered swallows up game, player, all.”
— “Blood Meridian,” Cormac McCarthy
I fear that that malevolent bald bastard has the right of it…
While I’m on “Blood Meridian”:
I’ve recently gotten into the alt-country band Lucero — and discovered something astonishingly good. The band’s writer and singer Ben Nichols released a solo album back in 2009 based upon “Blood Meridian.” The Kid, The Judge, Toadvine, Davy Brown, Tobin — all get their moment in “The Last Pale Light in the West.” Check out the title cut here.