Sports Center (Da Na Nuh, Dah Na Nuh)

Over the past several decades, I've made friends with people who are not as enthused and fascinated with sports like I am. That's fine, we all have different sources of inspiration, although I do find it weird.

The questions that invariably come up often are why people feel the need to affiliate themselves with a team that they will never play for or whose players the public truly know little about.

Good questions. It's simplistic to say that I follow sports for the physical competition it provides.

The past several weeks, I've paid more attention to stories that take place beyond the sidelines. So, I wanted to relay three stories that have remained in my mind.

Chris DiMarco is perhaps one of my favorite golfers. I started to follow him several years ago when the Golf Channel aired a show where their cameras followed a few players on the Nike Tour for a season. DiMarco was one of them. It was inspiring to watch a very talented but young player struggle with his game trying to earn a living going from event to event.

It wasn't watching him play golf that inspired me. It was how throughout his professional travails, he remained a family man. His wife and children traveled to many of his tournaments with him from city to city across the nation. When he did not play well, they had to put up with him slamming his clubs in the trunk and hauling it down the highway to the next tour stop.

Anyway, DiMarco's mother died a few weeks ago. He took a week off but was back at the next tournament. He said two things that I thought were neat. First, he said his mother would never miss any of his tournaments ever again; she could see everything from where she was. Second, his mother would have thrown a fit if her son took too much time away from golf just doing nothing. It was time to get back to work.

The second story is actually from last year about Jason McElwain. Jason is an autistic kid who just graduated high school in New York. He loves basketball more than anything else but never made the team. His coach, however, let him stay on as team manager so he could be close to the game he loves.

At the last home game last October, his coach decided to put him in the game, but only if the team had a substantive lead. Sure enough, Jason's team built a big lead with just a few minutes remaining. Coach put him in. He took a three point shot but it missed the backboard and the rim; a few minutes later, he shot a layup but missed that too. It was his last time to miss a shot.

In the next four minutes, Jason scored 20 points, 18 of them from three pointers. At the ESPY's, he won the award for Best Sports Moment.

The last story is about the Make A Wish Foundation and the work they do. They have partnered with ESPN to let several kids live out their sporting dream. Sports Center has aired a new segment every morning detailing those stories.

The story a few days ago was of Andrew Pointer, an 11 year old kid with a debilitating disease that leaves him confined to a wheelchair a fair amount of his day. I cannot imagine the suffering Andy endures on a daily basis. First, his body will never have the sufficient strength and energy for him to be entirely self-sufficient. Not only that, I can only imagine the comments and jokes his peers tell about him within his earshot.

Anyway, Andy's favorite player is Todd Helton of the Colorado Rockies. His one wish was to visit Coors Field and meet Helton. Well, he got to do more than that.

In addition to throwing out the first pitch of the game, he took batting practice with the team the following day. The team made it official by signing him to a one-day contract, giving him and official jersey, and giving him his own locker.

For that one day, Andrew was able to put away the discomforts and struggles he faces on a daily basis. For that one day, he was a Major Leaguer playing with his heroes. That's why I enjoy sports.

Apart from the mental and physical competition it provides, it gives me a sense of belonging. A sense of knowing that if I try my hardest, I'll win more often than I lose.