Athletic Supporters

I’M A SPORTS GUY. I was not the most gifted athlete in high school, but nevertheless, I can talk sports and compete in a pick-up game of almost anything and hold my own. I know the rules, the teams, the athletes, the standings, and the usual nuggets of information that separate the casual sports fan from the guy who can tell you who the backup goaltender is on the Minnesota Wild (Nicklas Backstrom, by the way).

Now, our office is a pretty docile place. Many of us get along, and the conversation during the day as we work feverishly to put these magazines together for you each and every month runs the gamut from technology, to movies, to American Idol, to healthcare, to Lost, to 24, to bad songs, to sports, and mostly everything in-between. The chatter is good—despite being trivial most of the time—but when it comes to sports, things take a dark turn. There are the typical conversations that you would expect from a company in western New Jersey whose employees come in from Pennsylvania and the Garden State. The Eagles and Giants are well-represented, as are the Yanks, Mets, and Red

Sox. Rangers, Devils, Flyers, and even Islanders are represented in the forgotten league known as the NHL. NASCAR is a hit too. As for the NBA, I don’t think anybody cares. Th e Memphis Grizzlies? Th is is a real team?

Anyway, every time, whenever the sports conversation rears its head, whether over bagels on Friday or at the Monday editorial meetings, somebody brings up a question, and every time, it’s a question that I know is going to eventually make my blood boil, my head spin, and likely ruin my weekend: “Are they athletes?” This simple question enrages me not only because I know they know it enrages me, but for the fact that I argue it every time, always—always—to no avail.

It all started when I opened up my big mouth to complain about the World Cup of soccer and how boring the sport was. That led to an exchange about the most conditioned athletes, and I said something about Tiger Woods being the greatest athlete of our generation. The collective reply was seemingly more confused than Tom Cruise. I then heard it, after seeing it in their eyes: “Tiger Woods isn’t an athlete. He’s a golfer.” Was I here right now? Did I just hear this correctly? Tiger Woods, probably the greatest golfer to ever play the game, is not considered by some to be an athlete? I was wrecked. After all, I consider anybody that competes, whether professionally or not, against somebody else to be an athlete.

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