Here's something I read off GQ, seems to fit right in with this thread___
SHE'S GOT GAME
You might dream about a girl who loves sports as much as you do, who knows Ben Wallace from Rasheed Wallace. But we’re here to tell you: Careful what you wish for
I used to work in D.C. with a golf nut named Chuck. He played four times a week, practiced his putting stroke during meetings, and traded IM flurries with his foursome partners the way some guys do with their girlfriends. Chuck was smart, funny, and halfway handsome, in a Justin Leonard kind of way, but hadn’t dated seriously in years. “Girls always end up feeling like they’re in competition with my love for golf,” he explained. “And golf always wins.”
Then Chuck started going out with a woman he’d met at his favorite course. She could play. She read Golf Digest. She could drill a 3-iron. Chuck talked endlessly about her and her “brilliant” golf game. “She nailed eight fairways on the back nine and got up and down out of a trap on seventeen,” he once told me. “She tees off from the fucking tips, dude.” Before long, Chuck’s new girlfriend was joining his regular group on Saturdays. Chuck was living the dream.
It didn’t take long for the grumbling to begin. “Basically, the guys weren’t having it,” he says. And they made their feelings clear to Chuck, who found himself in an agonizing predicament—ditch his friends or ditch his dream girl. “The truth is,” he says, “it was more fun when it was just me and the guys.” Chuck’s girlfriend wasn’t too psyched when he suggested that she could play with them, um, maybe a little less often? She took her clubs and bailed. “The only place I see her these days is in the newspaper when she wins some of these local tournaments,” Chuck says.
I can’t say I blame him for any of this. If you’re like Chuck—or like me, for that matter—sports are more than your passion; they’re your lifeblood. And as life becomes more and more complicated—jobs, girlfriends, wives, kids—it becomes harder and harder to fit them in without causing stress in your relationships. So the idea of finding a woman who enjoys sports as much as you do—someone who lives for a round of golf on Saturday, who digs SportsCenter—is pretty damn appealing.
Or at least that’s what I used to think.
My sport is basketball. On summer evenings, I go by all the parks in Ann Arbor looking for a game. There are few better feelings in life than walking up to the court, tossing down your keys, and exchanging a subtle nod with the other fiends. But what is it about playing ball that makes it my religion?
Sports occupy a parallel universe, one that’s appealingly different from my real life. For starters, it’s possible to win—clean and simple. Watching sports on TV works the same way: When your team wins, you win, too. For a moment, everything feels right in the world. Real lives don’t work like this. Victory is rarely so clear-cut. But the true magic of entering your sports universe is that all the problems of real life recede. You’re never going to be fretting about your sorry LSAT scores while you’re driving to the hoop.
Women, naturally, don’t want you disappearing into another universe. They’re in a relationship with you because they want to spend time with you, not hang out alone in the house while you head to your buddy’s place to watch six straight hours of football. And because they’re bound to see sports as a competitor, they give you grief for indulging in them. Which is why that fantasy you’ve always nurtured, of finding a woman who loves sports as much as you do, has such everlasting allure.
But gentlemen, you gots to listen up. I don’t like bursting bubbles, but this is one of those things—like dating a 19-year-old—that sound great in theory but fall apart when put to the test. Yes, if your girlfriend loved sports, you wouldn’t have to negotiate for the right to go to that Pistons game. But the truth is, combining separate universes leads to disaster. (Think Total Recall.) Bringing a woman into your sports universe crashes the mainframe. Ask my old coworker Chuck the golfer. He learned something axiomatic: Guys want to play sports with other guys, not your girlfriend.
The same goes for watching sports. When you watch a game with her in the room—even if she’s as passionate about sports as you are—her mere presence is enough to pull you out of your alternate universe, back into real life. My friend Tim, a jazz saxophonist and die-hard Pistons fan, dated a girl who was also into the team. “I watched the whole 2005 playoffs with her, and it was a nightmare,” he says. “She’d yell at the TV every single time a call went against us. I tried to explain to her, you can’t argue every call—I mean, that’s how you lose credibility with the refs. She was like, ‘We’re thousands of miles from the arena. They can’t hear us!’ Not to be superstitious, but I think she may have cost us that Game 7 in San Antonio.” Tim and his girlfriend split up soon after.
In April I went to a Tigers game with my dad. He’s a huge sports fan and played five years of semipro baseball himself. He’s still pretty hard-core about it, too: When he goes to the ballpark, he brings a mitt and buys a scorecard and pencil. He always seemed to pull off the husband-father-sports-nut thing pretty well, so I asked him: Do you think sports and girlfriends can ever successfully mix?
“The thing you’re looking for,” he said, “is not a woman to play sports with you or watch sports with you but a woman who understands how important sports can be. A woman who supports your passion and loves that you love sports.” He went on, “I never really played sports with your mother, but she understood their role in my life, because she was an athlete, too. She played lacrosse, she rode horses, she loved sailing.” She understood, he said, that there were times that he just needed to get out and go for a run or field some grounders or sit on the couch and watch nine innings of a Tigers game. “That doesn’t mean you have to find an athlete to date. Any woman who has passions—gardening, painting, whatever—she’s gonna understand and respect whatever makes you happy.”
But, I said, isn’t it strange to compartmentalize your love of sports and your relationship? Did you ever try to find ways to share this stuff with Mom?
“Your mother went to home games at Michigan Stadium with me for years,” he said. “This is the biggest football stadium in the world. She’d bring a book and read. But she’d come to the games, and I appreciated that. She loved the wave.
“I’ll tell you what happens, though. One day you have kids and you don’t have to wish anymore that you had a girlfriend who loved sports. Because if you love sports, you can teach your kid to love sports, and that’s the best feeling in life.” He passed me his mitt, scorecard, and pencil. “I’m going to get another beer,” he said. “Score this half inning for me. Any foul balls come this way, you know what to do.”