I miss hearing about the drama between Ben Simmons and Joel Embiid and seeing how the Philadelphia 76ers would have either overachieved or underachieved in this year’s NBA Playoffs.
I miss seeing what could have been between LeBron James and Anthony Davis in L.A.
I miss seeing what kind of splash Harden and Westbrook, Kawhi and Paul George and the rest of this year’s NBA dynamic duos cold have made as well. The Western Conference Playoffs was about to get dirty!
I miss reading a boxscore.
I missed the opportunity to see Zion Williamson play his first ever game in Orlando with my girl.
I miss seeing how James Dolan would have made a fool of himself next although that’s undoubtedly coming.
I miss turning on the TV to find some random sporting event I’d have on volume-less in the background, only paying slight attention while I did something else. Knowing it was there was comforting.
I miss not being able to turn on my TV at all these days, for there is really no good reason.
I miss concerts, movie theaters and dining out.
I miss perusing the daily betting lines and finding a nice four-to-one underdog to lay money on.
I sure as shit miss that first Thursday and Friday of March Madness.
I miss one shining moment and seeing what unknown kid would have made himself a household name.
I miss the track.
I miss the economic and social boom that would have been Wrestlemania when it came to Tampa. I might have even bought a leotard for the occasion. You are welcome for the visual.
I miss the PGA tour and seeing who would have emerged as golf’s next biggest thing.
I miss seeing if Tiger could do it just one more time.
I miss seeing who would have made the USA Olympic Basketball Team (LeBron and Steph together… yes, please!) and how much ass they would have kicked.
I miss playing poker with the boys and I miss my par cart partner.
I miss the regalia that would have been Tom Brady’s welcoming party to Tampa.
I miss normalcy.
I miss seeing if my Tampa Bay Lightning could have finally put it together this post-season… or maybe I don’t.
I miss seeing if the Greek Freak could have taken one giant step closer to fulfilling his legacy as a true NBA great by bringing his Milwaukee Bucks all the way to the NBA Finals…or seeing what Eastern Conference team would have contained him and how.
I miss Inside the NBA.
I miss the sports pundits (some of them, not all of them) talking about the play on the grass, court, diamond or ice.
I miss seeing how Rafa, Djoker and Federer would have continued to amass Majors in their race to become the most decorated men’s tennis player of all time.
I miss Serena chasing Margaret Court.
I miss baseball. (Just kidding, I don’t miss baseball at all.)
I miss work and shooting the shit with my customers and friends about games from the night before. I miss watching my security guard sneak away with the remote control so he can watch NBA games with him cluing me in on the plays I missed when I was too busy pouring drinks to watch.
I miss finding something, anything that caught my eye and sitting down immediately to write about it.
I miss talking about anything other than this fucking virus.
Soon enough, I suppose, as this too shall pass.
Just not soon enough.
What do you miss?