I am a sports fan.
Over ten years ago, I decided to take my sports fandom and apply it to the keyboard, covering various professional sports for a variety of respected outlets. Throughout that time, the fan in me changed a bit. Forced to approach professional sports through a critical lens, I began to lose sight of what brought me towards this direction in the first place: raw and unfiltered passion. You know, that “inner child” feeling that really lets our true self shine through. Having to “objectively”
dissect an athlete’s skills and contributions tends to hide all that. Now don’t get me wrong, I love writing about sports. It is first and foremost a hobby, and I am lucky to have people willing to read what I have to say. At the same time, I started to witness my inner “sports fan” be replaced by “sports analyst.”
That all changed this past weekend.
Last Friday, my wife and I were with our three children at Dave & Buster’s. She followed around my two oldest kids as they played games and collected tickets. I, on the other hand, was given the honor of chasing around my two-year-old Tasmanian Devil as he sprinted back and forth through the arcade, taking down anything or anyone in his path. In a rare moment when my wife and I crossed paths, she shared exciting news. The two of us were going to Fanatics Fest.
Now, as someone who spends very little time on social media, I knew very little about what Fanatics Fest actually was. Any knowledge I had came from small video clips or announcements about live podcast recordings. As I lay in bed Friday night, I figured my Saturday would consist of maneuvering through crowds, stopping at vendors, and potentially getting a glimpse of an athlete or two.
Boy was I wrong.
Through fortunate circumstances, my wife and I were provided the privilege of experiencing the event through the lens of a VIP. I did not know beforehand, but this meant I’d spend my day meeting superstars from every corner of the professional sporting world. I may have started the day thinking I’d jot down notes for an article, but that goal disappeared the minute I waited in line to meet the first of many athletes. My meet-and-greet marathon started with handshakes and pictures with Roman Reigns, Jerry Rice, and Joe Montana. Now, spending five seconds with each of those individuals was awesome. My knees could stop shaking, and my mouth never stopped smiling. But it was the next experience that truly changed everything.
I was back on the same line, waiting with a small group of people sharing the same excitement. Within minutes, I was standing toe-to-toe with The Undertaker. In that moment, ten-year-old John returned in all his glory. Throughout my childhood, this WWE icon fascinated me like no other. The dude was straight up terrifying and miraculous all at the same time. Now, here I was taking a picture with him, with my fandom once again unlocked.
Throughout that day, I met countless icons, never losing the magic I felt at the start of the day. Though those experiences will last a lifetime, what really stood out was witnessing the other people in my shoes. The thousands of people there to collect memorabilia, meet individuals we idolize, and appreciate what brought us there in the first place: our fandom.
Watching the jubilation expressed by an adult getting a signature on a football helmet really hit home for me. For people like us, sports light a spark that keeps our true selves alive. In it, we escape from the realities and hardships of life, allowing unfiltered emotions to surface. I firmly believe that deep down each of us still holds an “inner child,” the version of ourselves that is most genuine and raw. My experience at Fanatics Fest helped bring that part of me back into the light.
I look forward to letting that person shine through from here on out.
