The psychological game I play.

I used to be a sportswriter. In my younger days. Made a living that way. But decided I had better things to write about. Though I’ve remained a fanatic of the Chicago Cubs. Virtually all my life. I follow the Chicago Bears, too. But not quite so avidly. Used to watch and listen to games. From beginning to end. On TV. Or the radio. Now I seldom watch games. Don’t like to get caught up in the excitement. And the element of chance. Over which I have no control. I’d rather wait. And check the score after the game is over. If the Cubs or Bears win, give me the joyful details. Might watch highlight clips of the game. If my teams lose, I  avoid sportscasts. After all, I want to feel good. A loss makes me feel less so. Yes, it's a sign that I don’t always know how to put a loss in proper perspective. So that I’m not bothered. I’m always pleased by a win. But I groan and moan over a loss. Especially a hard luck one. The lost opportunities. The what ifs... When bad luck strikes the Cubs and Bears, it's as if the nasty baseball and football gods are responsible. For robbing  me of a simple pleasurable moment. They decided to be cruel and make me suffer. Little wonder, I seldom watch a game. Through. To the end. I'd rather wait for the result. Knowing whether it’s gonna be emotionally safe for me.  To delve in. –Jim Broede