As a fan of LOST, I am weekly faced with suggestions of time travel, destiny, and alternate realities. While watching Dr. Jack Sheppard attempt to lead his buddies to their victory of escape, a viewer is (on some level) required to suspend reality and join the crew on the island. Because I echo the statement of The Ticket’s Mike Rhyner when he admits, “my mind doesn’t wander too far from the sports page,” I began to assess my suspension of reality – or rather my alteration of previous beliefs/opinions – in the world of SPORTS.

The origin of this thought can be traced back a few weeks when Josh Howard went public with his “offseason” drug use. At the time, the Mavs were in the process of losing another playoff series and Josh wasn’t helping avoid this fate. I found myself very critical of his off-court behavior but began to wonder how or why I was so quick to write off Howard when only a couple months prior I could easily justify the Cowboys’ acquisition of Adam Jones
(formerly “Pacman”). The root of the difference in perspectives was the belief that Jones would help the ‘boys win the ultimate prize while Josh’s inability to do the same for the Mavericks was increasingly evident. Have I applied a selective reality to my judgment of these individuals? Even ignoring off-field behaviors, does my opinion of a professional athlete depend only on their relationship to my favorite team? After turning to two specific examples, the answer was obvious.

It’s become a punch line at this point, but I remember when the Y2K scare was real and the fear accompanying these concerns was felt by many all over the country. Thankfully, the new century didn’t produce any real effects on our computers or banking system, but I’ll argue that the early 2000’s produced something MUCH more horrifying…the Sacramento Kings. I don’t know if there’s been a professional sports team who I’ve developed more dislike for than this collection of Vlade Divak, Chris Webber, Peja Stoyakovic, Brad Miller, Mike Bibby, Bobby Jackson, and the player who would headline my ha t re d for this team, Doug Christie. His defensive aggressiveness combined with his “green goblin grill” altered the way I watched Mavs/Kings games for several seasons. I had to watch in solitude because, if out in public, I would inevitably embarrass myself by making comments directed towards Christie. That changed, however, in 2005 when Christie was signed by the Dallas Mavericks after the briefest of stints in Orlando. Hoping Christie’s health would return and he would become the lock-down defender that the Mavs were missing, I suspended ALL previous dislike of the guy and was a huge supporter of this signing. He would play seven games before being waived due to a lack of productivity partially because of nagging injuries, but one can’t help but wonder if a healthy Doug Christie slows down DWade in the finals later that season. Who knows?

Growing up a Cowboys fan in the ‘90s, I was trained to ha te the 49ers. I missed out on watching Jerry Rice, the greatest WR to play the game, because everything about that team disgusted me. This would include their superstar to be, Terrell Owens. It was bad enough that he was good and played for the niners, but on September 24, 2000, he cemented himself as my most ha t ed man in professional sports by disgracing the Cowboys’ star after scoring each of his two touchdowns that day. After calling his quarterback gray and demanding a trade, Owens vetoed a trade to the inconsequential Baltimore Ravens and ended up with the ‘boys division rivals from Philly. While I enjoyed seeing him bicker with Donovan McNabb, when the Eagles released TO in 2006 I told everyone, “I don’t think I can be a Cowboys fan if jerry signs him.” Four days later, that theory would be put to the test. Well, I was wrong and I’ve definitely “got my popcorn ready.”

****possible LOST spoiler ahead. turn back now****

I like to think I have standards. I try to say that there are some things that I can’t tolerate but the more I think about it, my SPORTS reality is relative. Who knows, if Mike Vick emerges from his confinement and appears on the Michael Irvin radio show with hands raised in apologetic surrender like those of Benjamin Linas at the end of LOST’s most recent episode “There’s no place like home: Part 1,” I have to assume I’d welcome a star on the side of his helmet.