Airing My Dirty Laundry

Taking a peek through a time capsule, I’ve recovered my college admissions essay from 2007. Used for the Common Application when applying to college, I wrote this to showcase myself as a hybrid of passionate eccentricity with a pinch of rationality. Considering this was written half a lifetime ago, I’d like to think my writing chops have improved quite a bit; If this reads like a teenager wrote this, it’s because one did. I hope you enjoy this unedited throwback to the origins of my identity with superstition.

Airing My Dirty Laundry

I have gone days without changing clothes.  I have gone weeks without shaving. No, I’m not some hygiene-deficient hermit; I’m simply a sports fan who does whatever it takes for his team to win. 

Being a sports fan is a complex matter and hard to explain. It can lend itself to somewhat rational behavior initially, but as the game progresses and straits become dire, I’m forced to delve into the irrational. As someone identifying as superstitious, irrationality can soon cocoon into the downright bizarre. Many people do not understand where my superstitions and other sports-fan idiosyncrasies come from and honestly, I cannot blame them. My approach comes from a desire to help my team win and have fun, plus this bit of insanity is harmless relief from the pressures of the outside “real” world. 

My closest friends know me as a huge sports fan, but many of my classmates or subtle acquaintances see me only as a serious, super focused, levelheaded guy who dresses conservatively in his khakis and polo shirt. They couldn’t imagine me at home, watching a game on television by myself, wearing my team-logo pajamas while chanting fight songs. And they certainly wouldn’t think I cry when my teams lose big games, but, alas, I do. Even adults who know me still don’t understand why I would watch a game with my back to the television, yet watching the game’s reflection through a mirror. If watching without watching stirs up my team’s mojo and helps improve the momentum, then so be it.

When one of my teachers found out that I loved to watch football, she commented, “Adam, you’re too kind to find passion in such a barbaric sport”.   I wonder how she would feel about my pre-game ritual for Jets games which includes tapping the heads of my two hundred bobble heads simultaneously for good luck.  Another teacher remarked that I was too bright to believe in the causal relationship between a team winning and my nonsense. The actions themselves seem irrational, but isn’t the desire to help your win by any means necessary completely rational?

My fanaticism and superstition is not limited to competition with balls and pucks. As Captain of the Math Team, I have surprised my teammates with my rah-rah nature. They see this serious person let loose, turn a bit silly, and get creative with ways to help the team win. Does this really help my team win games?  Who knows? It really doesn’t matter as long as I believe I can help.

But throughout my teenage years, I’ve learned that I’m not alone. Sports fans who embrace the superstitious life are attracted to each other.  No matter where I am, people inevitably come over and start talking sports.  On my annual trip with my grandfather to visit baseball stadiums, we were driving to Kauffman Stadium in Kansas City. Somehow we found ourselves driving down a dirt road, lost in tumbleweed town Tracy, Missouri - population 270. After hours of driving through barren plains, I thought I’d arrived on a different planet. My grandfather and I stopped at a diner to ask for directions, but I noticed the cashier was wearing a Kansas City Royals jersey. I struck up a ten minute conversation through which he was excited to field intrigue about the 1985 Championship team, the Royals fall from grace in the 90s, and the significance of George Brett’s legacy. It’s mind boggling how someone whose life is vastly different from mine can share the language of baseball and bond over a love for our respective teams.

Although I’m only 17, I can tell from the adults in my life that reflection and nostalgia are traits to be preserved. Maybe, I’ll look back on my unconventional behaviors and realize it was all sound and fury. It will be ridiculous to reflect on an arbitrary week where I ate nothing but waffles for dinner each night, because that was keeping a Mets winning streak intact.

But hey, I’m doing what I love and am having a blast. Yes, there are many more important things in life such as my family, my friends, the children that I tutor, etc.  To get beyond the pressures of school and expectations and just to be wacky sometimes – that’s all good for me.  I happen to let loose in an unorthodox manner, but at least it’s harmless.  I recommend it for everyone.