In my sporting life, I feel blue. The feeling has been with me for a couple weeks now. I can not shake it.

I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what was wrong. Since I watched a autobiography on the sportswriter Dick Shapp in high school, I have wanted to be a sportswriter. At the time, I believed it would be great. A sportswriter gets to fly around covering sporting events, going to big games like the super bowl, sitting around chatting with athletes, I idolized it. It became a dream that didn’t necessarily fit reality, but I didn’t know reality, most likely I still don’t.

In preparation for my glorious sports writing career, I would spend an excessive amount of time watching sports and sports related programs like those shown on ESPN. I would watch “Sportscenter” obsessively, up to four hours a day, sometimes watching the same episode multiple times in succession, in order that I would be able to look and act the part. I was studying.

But, my studies stopped about three years ago because I moved out of my mother’s house in sunny southern California and into an apartment with my girlfriend. I changed. Instead of watching sports on TV, I read or wrote, listened to music, I even began playing an instrument. In part, the change was due to the fact I had no cable television and couldn’t afford it, or maybe I just told myself I couldn’t afford it. Either way, I forgot about what I thought I wanted.

My dreams adapted, following behind me like a little brother. I adapted to moving to San Francisco. I began trying to saw through the umbilical cord of the mainstream, and free myself from the limits the majority opinion placed upon me. Sadly, Athletics is snuggled firmly in the arms of our culture, and with my new experiences, my impression of sports in general has changed.

I played multiple sports in High School. I ran cross-country, track and field, and played basketball, and loved little league when I was a young boy. After high school, I swore them all off, yet I still followed them in the newspaper and on television. I couldn’t let go.

That leads me to the here and now. Desperately clinging to the last remains of my old self, when the chance came to write for this newspaper, I signed up to be Sports Editor. How could I not? I felt like my old life had smacked me in the mouth and woke me up.

While I have been doing this for about two months now, Sports writing hasn’t felt right. I feel a huge disconnect between me and the sports world. Whereas, I used to feel confident talking about sports, now I feel like I do not belong, for I am no longer a part of the culture. I left the culture three years ago though now I try vainly to get back in touch with it. I wonder if I will be able to.

Even if I could, how would I go about it? I could start playing baseball again, or basketball at the park. I could do that, but I have a hard time being terrible at something, so I would have to learn how to do it right. But who has the time to dedicate yourself to an activity that you aren’t sure you even want to do. Sports require a lot of time, patience, and energy. Do I possess enough dedication to my old love, to my old dream, so that I will be able to throw myself back into the sporting life? Could I crawl back to that ex-girlfriend, beg for forgiveness, and expect everything to be the same afterwards?

Is there even a place for me?