Let’s begin with the lingering question: do sports form character or reveal it?

When my wife, who is a sometimes sports fan, asked what I would first write about in Competitive Juices, I posed that question to her. Her answer was perfect. She said, “Yes.”  

For those who play sports, even at a “recreational” level (where, of course, a score is still kept), sports may form one’s character as he or she learns discipline and perseverance and camaraderie and even, we hope, humility not only from failure but in success. But the most daunting moments in sports also reveal one’s character, particularly as it relates to the words of one’s mouth spewing forth the abundance of one’s heart.

Some writers coined “the Tiger Slam” to describe the golf star’s four consecutive major championship victories (though not in the requisite calendar year for a “true” slam). But the Tiger Slam could just as easily refer to what Woods frequently does with his club after he has hit a bad shot. Is this the heat of competition or a revelation of his character? I might say “You decide,” but it is really for Tiger himself to wrestle with and perhaps to confess to.  

What any of us say or do, especially when the fires in our bellies are raging, exposes our own heart. Through those words and actions we see of ourselves what God sees within us. That’s why contending with others often demands that we contend with Him.

So here’s a further inquiry: what do sports tell us about sports fans? Do sports form or reveal the character of a fan? Here I would have to say that the scales tip from what may be a 50-50 proposition to something closer to 20-80.

For the fan who watches sports, particularly if they have suffered long with the Cubs or Clippers or Saints, say, there is some degree of character formation. These fans know longsuffering and they continually seek a renewal of hope. There is some learning, some forming of character in that, I suppose.

But far greater when it comes to sports fans—the 80 percent side of the balance—is the revealing of character. What does it say about a man that he will dress like some sort of acid rock star/medieval warrior/pirate in black and silver to attend a football game (think Raider nation) or pay thousands for season tickets so he can “have the right” to profanely taunt opposing players (as I once had a fan across the Bay at Candlestick Park tell me so)? What does it say about a certain Italian TV “journalist”—and those who watch her—that she would sneak up and grab David Beckham where he isn’t supposed to be grabbed just to see if he lives ups to his underwear ads?

Here’s the answer to those questions: it says something disturbing. 

So here we sit on the eve week of the world’s biggest sporting spectacle. Most of us will be fans this Sunday, even if “our team” didn’t make it. I’m wondering what will come out in us.