Watching sports with teenagers is a test of patience, endurance, and your ability to decipher what on earth they are yelling at the screen. I naively thought family sports nights would be a bonding experience. I pictured us all sitting together with snacks, cheering for the same team, sharing in the highs and lows of the game. I was very, very wrong.
First of all, my teenagers root for opposing teams. Not because they have strong connections to a particular city or player, but simply because they enjoy chaos. If one picks a team, the other will pick the rival just to be difficult. This means that every single game night turns into a full-contact debate about whose team is superior, complete with yelling, wild hand gestures, and the occasional flying throw pillow.
Then there is the commentary. My kids have never played professional football or basketball, but you would think they were world-renowned analysts with the way they criticize every move. According to them, the coaches are clueless, the referees are blind, and the players are making the worst decisions in the history of sports. Meanwhile, I am still trying to figure out what just happened because I was busy cleaning up the snack disaster they created in the first five minutes.
Worst of all, when their team is winning, they become unbearable. There is dancing, gloating, and excessive use of phrases like “I told you so.” But when their team is losing, suddenly the game is rigged, the refs are corrupt, and the TV is in danger of being permanently shut off in frustration.
By the end of the game, I need a nap, a snack, and possibly noise-canceling headphones. But at least we are spending time together. That counts for something, right?
