I had one of those “This Is Why The Games Are Played” moments on an airplane destined for Charlotte. (I apologize for the recent references to airport-living, but apparently, much can be learned when you travel.)

Me: Did you see the game last night? (It probably wasn’t necessary to say ‘the’ versus ‘that’ — If he broke out singing the World Figure Skating Championships theme song I was prepared to put on my headphones like Kevin McCalister did in Home Alone (the second one; who likes the first anyways?). The point is, he know it was the game I was talking about. For you figure skating junkies, that’s Super Bowl XLII I was referring to.

67-year-old (and 15 times retired) man:: You know what? You’re not going to believe it. I was on a plane last night, much to the dismay of myself and every other man on that plane. (Okay, the guy missed not only the greatest Super Bowl of all-time, but also one of the greatest game plans and execution.)

Me: You must have seen the play.

67-year-old (and 15 times retired) man:: Fortunately, I got home to see the last two minutes. Wow, talk about a great catch.

Me: Actually, 67-year-old man, the catch was great, but the most overlooked play of the game would have to be on that very same play. Don’t get me wrong–fantastic catch — and one that probably ranks in the top-10 Super Bowl catches of all-time (velcro to helmet?) — but the way Manning escaped the pocket was incredible. Talk about poised.

67-year-old (and 15 times retired) man: And his laser of a pass…

And so on.

Did I have to detail a) what this game was; b) what this game meant; c) why society mandates that the entire male population be off a plane on this particular night; d) the play?; or e) the implications of such a game? No, no, no, no, and no.

A man I never met, never will see again, and all it took was a Eli Manning and David Tyree connection to have a connection ourselves. Where else does this happen? Politics maybe, but two Barack supporters have a connection only in a “we both want out of this mess” sorta way. Sports, in this particular instance, were a connection because we both knew exactly what happened, where it happened, why it happened and why that particular moment mattered. No need to waste time re-hashing these seemingly minute details — well, because if we didn’t already know them, a scowl would be etched across society’s gleaming (because of last night’s contest) face.

One last thing, airport-related: Try this sometime. Just start a conversation, but make sure to bring sports into the conversation, somehow, in someway, on the airplane to the person you are sitting beside. If you’re lucky, you’ll be besides a “of course I watched” guy (or girl — if you get one of these, and all seems right in the world). If you’re by a a) “I used to be a sports fan, but salaries … ticket prices … steroids…”; or b) “I don’t so much care for sports” guy, find it in you to get a reply like this: “You know what, I’m turning on ESPN before I unpack.” It’s a fun game. Talk about the fun. Talk about the memories. Talk about the journey. Talk about passion. That’s what it’s all about.

I choose to do this because it makes me feel like a sports radio talk-show host. You must establish yourself as someone that knows what you are talking about — or at least make it seem as such — and all of a sudden, you get a lot of “I never thought of it like that” or “Wow, you’re right.” It’s rewarding. Then the questions come, and it’s like I’m taking questions from callers. Try it.

I sit here at Charlotte International Airport in awe of this cultural phenomenon called Nascar, not because of its mere existence, but the prevalence of this existence. You would not believe how many shops and restaurants are dedicated to this sport (can we call it that?) … I seriously witnessed a man on his cell phone saying, probably to his wife, that “he is going to go buy a $69.99 Nascar jacket” and requested permission to do so. This man could not wait to pay $70 to have “Busch Light” etched across his back
Now, if I were to ask the gentleman sitting beside me if Nascar is indeed a sport, he’d laugh. Well, a few minutes in Charlotte’s airport made me really thankful for the sporting culture I wake up to every morning in the Midwest.

In the Midwest, there are games … and as the title of this blog suggests, we enjoy games, we enjoy competition, to the point that games become much more to us than simple diversions. In this Nascar culture, you’d be nuts to call Nascar a “game,” and any attempts to do so or even put it on the same “playing” (more on “play” in a bit) field is an attempt to justify Nascar’s existence. Imagine that you were to say “I’m going to the game” referring to a Nascar race. No one would know what you’re talking about.

This guy, or the next, could do this.

Step back for a moment and look at Nascar for what it really is: loads of corporate sponsorship, people that love repetitive activity and well, people that apparently enjoy the concept of acquiring a sunburn. For those that are at least half-sane, but enjoy the former, they sit on their couch watching non-athletes count on others (their pit crew) and equipment (their cars) to determine their success.

“Well, drivers risk their lives!” This mere fact does not determine athlete status. I could ask the guy that served me a muffin this morning to do what (insert driver here) does. You shouldn’t be given credit a. for being a risk-hungry person; and b. success based on others.

Somewhere along the line, some heavy brainwashing occurred in this region, and we can probably trace that to corporate sponsorship and heavy marketing. We watch sports to see incredible accomplishments or team feats; not to see one guy get the credit, and sit in a car for gosh sake, because of a machine or a crew that knows how to change a tire. Maybe the crew should be considered athletes–their pulse is beating beyond a resting rate.

I seriously heard this argument once: “Nascar drivers have to sit in a car for 4-5 hours making split second decisions in 100-degree plus heat.” I don’t think simply being a little warm is a qualifier for sport. Also, I make split second decisions everyday when I drive a car on the freeway, albeit not at 200 mph speeds. I’m not that crazy. I also don’t think “crazy” is a qualifier, either.

Nascar enthusiasts would tell you that golf isn’t a sport, and they couldn’t be more wrong. The hand-eye coordination, strength and strategy makes Nascar look like Monopoly in comparison.

Heath Ledger was announced dead today. At around 3 p.m., I heard this on the radio. Having being someone that does not pretend to be a pop-culture expert or mere follower, I could not immediately identify Ledger’s influence or reason behind the on-air mention, and therefore did a Google search.

To put this timing in perspective, news results did not show up in my original Google search. After some more research, major newspapers weren’t even announcing this development as breaking news.

I proceeded to investigate, and clicked on the ever-so-reliable Wikipedia entry for Heath Ledger. Okay, Brokeback Mountain … The Patriot … The Monster’s Ball … etc. etc. Now at least I have a reference point. Then I noticed birth date … and now, the date of Ledger’s passing (April 4, 1979 - January 22, 2008). Scroll a little further down, and see a section describing Ledger’s death.

Before many news outlets had reported the story, a Wikipedia entry already documented today’s unfortunate occurrence. What this indicates is that someone dropped everything they were doing on this particular afternoon, and found it in them to update a Heath Ledger entry, simply, well because they can.

I do understand the Wikipedia foundation - the ability for anyone with knowledge about a particular subject  to contribute information - but at what point do you say, “Okay, as much as I’m tempted to run a 3.9 second fifty-yard-dash to the nearest computer, it might be a bit excessive.”

I do commend that single individual that apparently had a busy day. I’d contact you to say so, but nowhere on the site is there a byline.