Silent sports exposed

For years I have had a serious problem with what I refer to as the silent sports. A silent sport is one in which tradition dictates the more intense the pressure and tension, the quieter the crowd must become. The three main silent sports are tennis, golf and bowling.

In contrast, when participating in one of the three major traditional sports—baseball, football or basketball, the opposite is the rule. The tighter the situation, the more boisterous and raucous the crowd reaction.

With only three seconds remaining in the Super Bowl as Lawrence Tynes, of the New York Giants, awaits the snap of the ball giving him a chance to win the game with a last second field goal, the crowd noise is deafening.

Tiger Woods lines up his twelve foot putt on the eighteenth green in Augusta to win the Masters, and the wide-eyed onlookers are terrified to even breathe for fear of the slightest sound reaching the ears of the golfing icon. It simply makes no sense does it? Of course not.

Now if I had my way, as Rafael Nadal prepares to serve match point at Wimbledon, the crowd would be standing, waving towels and screaming at the top of their lungs in an attempt to either encourage or distract the tennis superstar (occasionally even a drunk tossing a full cup of over-priced, warm beer on the court).

Come on, that’s the primordial beauty of sports. With the inflated price of tickets today, the fans should have a small role in the outcome. It’s an absolute buzz-kill to remain silent during sporting events. Remember when you were a kid. It was a punishment when your mom demanded, “keep quiet.” Making noise was a blast.

I’ve discussed my unique theory with golf goofs, bowling bores, and tennis tarts over the years and implored them to explain the difference between a batter attempting to connect with a Nolan Ryan fastball and an Arnold Palmer chip shot onto the 18th green. I usually get the same droll answer—“it’s tradition Pete.” Booooring.

I believe it was once tradition to stone people for practicing witchcraft. While I’m on the subject of these quiet sports, let me ask you a serious question. Is there anything more annoying and exasperating than talking to a boorish golfer if you don’t golf? I’ll answer for you. No.

I attended a small get together last year and noticed an old buddy talking to three other guys. I strolled over to say hello and chit-chat. We shook hands as he introduced me to his friends. One of the ivy-league looking gents asked if I golfed. I replied, “No, I don’t, I hate golf.” He scrunched up his face with a look you might expect from someone being informed that I was the person who had swindled his parents out of their entire retirement savings.

For a moment I thought this nerd was going to heave his double espresso caramel macchiato in my face. My intentionally sarcastic response had reduced me to leper status in the quartet of snobs. Even my old friend slowly began wiping his hand on his pants, as if trying to clean off any lingering forensics from our handshake.

Maybe I’m being a little harsh on the these sports and their minions. It’s just that I believe one of the undeniable beauties of sporting competition is the fan reaction and interaction. So if you agree with me and can muster up the nerve, the next time you are in attendance at a golf, bowling or tennis event try this. As the tension mounts and the crowd grows ever quieter, strike a blow for genuine sport fanatics everywhere. Free yourself from the restrictive bonds of misguided tradition and proudly rise to your feet and wail at the top of your lungs, and keep howling and screaming until the security thugs grab your arms and drag you away.