LOL it’s kind of complicated. Basically, my dad likes the Yankees and doesn’t really follow other sports.
Perfectly understandable.
In 1986, I lived halfway out to Montauk, worked for a company of Mets fans, with tickets occasionally available to employees, and the local cable system had stopped broadcasting WSBK Red Sox games for the many eastern Long Islanders who had New England roots & affection.
After deep bonding with co-workers while watching an extra innings NLCS pitching duel between Mets & Astros, I was all in for the Mets and announced this to family when we visited West Hartford the following weekend with my newly walking daughter. My normally inexpressive father offered a single side long glance, and I knew that I was previously committed to root for the Red Sox. So yes, Bill Buckner & game 7 got experienced as heartbreak (well not really, I expected something like this) instead of joy for the team I'd rooted for all season (and had liked well enough before then).
My co-workers couldn't understand. Perhaps you do.
PS - Nowadays, I'm pretty much down to the latter stages of major sports playoffs to see the best when they are trying their hardest.
I got curious enough on Friday to watch my first-recalled Olympics Opening Ceremony, and have seen no performances at all. I could offer a similar random story about US Open (either) or how I streamed a relay of the Mayweather fight, but mostly so much else in life captures my attention.
I'm here year round, and marvel that I care so much and spend so much time on a pretty unimpressive display of minor league sport. Again, the eggs.