R.I.P. The Shield

An era is over. The last episode of FX’s “The Shield” aired last night, and it closed the book on one of the best television shows of all-time.

The series premiered March 12, 2002. At the time I had never heard of it, but a bunch of my friends were going to one of their houses to watch it, and so I followed along. Not knowing at all what it was about, I was blown away (if you’ll pardon the pun) when, at the end of that first episode, the lead character Vic Mackey shot another cop in the face to stop him from informing on Vic’s strike team’s illegal activities. At that point, I was hooked.

For the next seven years, I watched every episode religiously. For the first two seasons, I watched every episode in its first airing with my then-girlfriend. We had broken up before season 2, but continued to watch it together. By season 3, we rarely talked anymore. That didn’t stop me from watching it with the same passion, though.

At some point along the line, my wife started watching it with me, which made it even better for me. This is the first time I’ve ever watched a show every week when it was on for the entire run of the show, and so, while being excited for the final season, I was also a little sad.

One thing the show excelled at was keeping things interesting and continually surprising me. So, when it came time for the last few episodes, I honestly didn’t know where they were going to go. *SPOILER ALERT* In the last episode, Vic’s former best friend and partner-turned worst enemy, Shane Vendrell poisoned his pregnant wife and 4-year-old (or so) son before shooting himself in the head just as the police arrived to arrest him. The series ended with Vic starting his new job with the ICE department, in which he was forced to sit at a desk and do reports for the rest of his 3-year contract with them, or else he risked being thrown in jail for the crimes he confessed to and was given immunity for.

The ending with Vic ending up a “regular guy” with a “regular 9-5 job” reminds me of “Goodfellas”. Vic goes from being on the streets, dealing with drug dealers and addicts, pimps, prostitutes and all sorts of corruption to sitting at a regular desk five days a week, putting his name on his lunch when he puts it in the fridge. It ends with him having plenty of time during his boring life to ponder what he’s done and how he got there.

It was a satisfying end to a great show. I am actually a little sad today, and I will miss it. I’m just glad it ended on a high note.

Sports: A Personal History

I’d like to start off talking about something I love, and that is sports. But first, a little background.

I have very geeky/nerdy tendencies. I like comic books and sci-fi/fantasy books and movies. I’ve been into comics since I was about 8 years old. I liked to read and draw, and I hung out with the not-so-popular crowd. Sports weren’t exactly high on my priority list.

Then, when I was probably 11 or 12, a couple of old friends (as old as they can be when you’re 11 or 12) came over and my brother and I ended up playing tennis with them. I had never played before, and it was a lot of fun. I ended up playing a few more times over the next year or so with my brother. When I found out one of my classmates played, one of the great rivalries in sports history was born.

I had started to follow the professional game a little bit, and I was fascinated by Andre Agassi. His hair and his attitude drew me in. It was Agassi who really cemented my initiation into sports fandom when he won Wimbledon in 1992. It helped that my brother hated him and was a Sampras fan, giving me someone to rub it in to. I was hooked.

And so it went for several years. I still didn’t consider myself a sports fan, especially considering the popularity in America of my only sports interest. This part didn’t change when my long-tennis rival introduced me to the beautiful game, soccer. Every Monday, in our second year of college in 1998-99, we skipped class to go to my house and watch the recap of the previous week’s English Premier League action. I got attached to Manchester United because of their coach, and they went on to win the treble that year (the English Premier League, the Champion’s League and and the FA Cup). The Champion’s League they won in the most dramatic fashion possible by scoring the tying and winning goals in stoppage time at the end of the game. Again, I was hooked.

Again, though, I still didn’t consider myself a real “sports fan”, partly because of my view of that guy who’s into sports. I liked to be different. I specifically didn’t want to like football, and never paid attention to it, in the same way I (and many others) made the conscious decision never to read a Harry Potter book or see the movies. Then came 2000.

In 2000, the Ravens made it to the playoffs, and everyone was buzzing about it. A customer at my job constantly talked my ear off about his Rams, and, bored one day, I stopped on their playoff game. They tried to make a late comeback but ultimately lost. It was exciting, though. Then, the Ravens just kept winning. The atmosphere in the city was electric. I watched our final playoff game, and then the Superbowl. Come Superbowl time I was rooting as hard as anyone. When we won, I was hooked again, although I was still a casual fan for several years.

A few years later, I met my wife and started hanging out with a different group of friends. They were huge football fans, and it was only a matter of time before I truly came to the dark side. I started watching every Ravens game, and got a jersey for Christmas, and then…Fantasy. With fantasy football, I became a football freak, and now I am as big a fan of football as there is.

I finally had to admit to myself that I am a sports fan in every sense of the word. I have now embraced being “normal”, and have come to grips with my new identity.

Earlier this year I came to a realization. I understand what it is that make sports so wonderful, and why I would recommend being a fan to anyone. Sports are an arbitrary source of highs and lows in our lives. By investing ourselves in sports we give ourselves the opportunity for great joy. There is also sorrow involved, and it can make it tough at times, but when you come to those moments of joy, it’s all worth it. Here are two examples that led me to this realization and illustrate my point perfectly:

Example 1:

Last season in the NFL the Patriots looked good. So good that after week 2 my brother declared that they would go undefeated and win the Superbowl as if he could see the future. This annoyed me mostly because it was way too early to be making such declarations. So, I bet him that they wouldn’t do it. Over the next several weeks, I was subjected to more and more of this “They’re the best team ever, they’re going 19-0” crap. So, with each week I started rooting harder and harder against the Patriots. Come Superbowl time, I was rooting about as hard for the Giants as I would have for the Ravens. When the Giants won that game, the elation I felt lasted for several days, and for the next few weeks anytime I thought back to it, that feeling washed over me again. That feeling of vindication, justice and sheer joy cannot be matched by any other means than sports.

Example 2:

My wife is a lifelong Washington Capitals fan. When we started going out, she wasn’t as hardcore about it as she had been in the past. It just wasn’t as high on her priority list at the time. So, we watched a game here and there, and I took her to a game every year for her birthday. Then, last season, we got into it right from the start. We watched every game we could (which was helped by the fact that we now had Tivo).

The Caps were last in the league around Thanksgiving, when they fired their coach and brought in an interim one. Slowly but surely we improved, and by March we were in the playoff hunt. By this point, I was following it as closely as my wife was. The Caps won 10 of 11 games heading into their regular season finale. In our last game, all we had to do was get to overtime, not just to make the playoffs but to actually win our division. We were up 3-1 with a couple minutes to play. I don’t think the crowd at the game sat down or let up with their roar for the entire last minute or two of the game. When that clock hit zero, I turned to my wife and we hugged for a good two minutes, both choked up. That is a moment I will never forget, and it’s all thanks to sports.

Alex Ovechkin does his victory celebration after scoring
the winning goal in his first playoff appearance.

Sports can be frustrating when your team isn’t doing well. They can really bum you out. However, they can also give you lifelong memories like these, which more than make up for any of the bad times. I equate it with family and friends. We invest so much time and effort into our relationships with our friends and family, and that is why they enrich our lives. When a friend gets a promotion, or my brother has a baby or my sister-in-law gets that job she wants, it makes me happy due to my investment in that relationship. Likewise, when my team has a really good year, or wins a championship, I am happy due to my investment in that relationship. This is why I have changed, and this is why I love sports so much.