THE DOWNSIDE OF STUDYING ABROAD – LIFE WITHOUT AMERICAN SPORTS

This is the first article in the history of this blog where I will give real insight into my life. Currently, I am on a train from Naples to Rome (sick brag), and I need to get an post up but haven’t been able to watch any sports whatsoever while on spring break. For the first time ever, I am living life without American sports.

Before I started writing today’s post, I thought to myself: I can sit here and pretend like I was able to watch the opening round at Augusta, or I can be honest with you and tell you that I wish I was able to.

Not being able to couch it for four straight days to watch the Masters with family and friends is something I never want to experience again. Sure, I am making unforgettable memories sleeping on trains going from European city to European city. Sure, I’m drinking the finest wine and eating the best food ever at unbelievably low prices. And sure, I am having more fun this semester than I have ever had in my life. But riddle me this: Am I still a friend of Jim Nantz even if we don’t exchange hellos through a television screen throughout each of these four days?

I feel as if I am cheating in my relationship with sports. March Madness was like the try for long distance that barely worked, but instead of staying up til the early hours on FaceTime, it was watching the sunrise while sweating spreads and praying for ONIONS calls from Bill Rafferty. This Masters tournament is like the first communication-less weekend that really pushes the boundaries of the relationship. I am just hoping that Rome is my hall pass.

I miss the views in university lecture halls on these two days of qualifying rounds. Every computer screen in sight live-streaming featured groups, an occasional fist pump here and there, but not a soul taking any notes. 

My train is arriving, so I’ll have to leave this blog shorter than most. I’ll be missing so many things about this weekend, so soak it in to the fullest for me. 

PS – Don’t worry, I packed accordingly for this trip. Black shorts and a red shirt are in a special compartment in my bag, waiting patiently for Sunday to roll around.