The audience rumbles with anticipation. The lights are bright and fluorescent. You settle into your seat, which is too small and pushes your knees up to your chest. You hold your drink tightly in one hand and your souvenir in the other. You’re proudly wearing your well-worn t-shirt, which you lovingly bought from the merch table the last time you were here. You’ve strategically taken your bathroom break just before the line became obscenely long. For the next three hours, you are committed to watching every single move of the performers in front of you; you will laugh, you will cry, you will jump to your feet cheering, and you will sing along (even though you shouldn’t).
Now, what did I just describe to you? Was it:
A. A Broadway show
B. A baseball game
C. Both
I am, for all intents and purposes, a theater kid. I live in NYC, I’ve worked off-Broadway, I’m in a musical theater writing workshop, I watch the Tony’s every year, and I am an animal at bar trivia. It is with profound cringe that I declare my theater kid status.
I also grew up playing sports. Soccer, basketball, cross country, lacrosse, field hockey, skiing, tennis. You name it, I loved it. Except for field hockey1. I wasn’t quite a star athlete, but I had a handful of highlight-reel-worthy plays. I can even spider-dribble a basketball.
Additionally, I grew up in New Hampshire, just north of Boston. The capital city of New England sports. The Red Sox, the Patriots, the Celtics, and the Bruins are practically baked into my DNA. “Shipping Up To Boston” is my ringtone. I live in NYC and still refuse to wear Yankees merch (go Mets!).
If you’re a theater kid like me, you have more often than not heard the phrase “go sportsball” or “I don’t care about sports.” Maybe you’ve been the one to say one of those phrases. And if you or a loved one has ever said, “I don’t care about sports,” I have four words for you regarding theater and sports2:
They’re the same thing.
Allow me to begin with my favorite example of sports as theater: the tale of Super Bowl LI, or 28-3. The second-best Super Bowl I’ve ever seen3. Act 1. Atlanta Falcons vs New England Patriots. The Falcons rise to the occasion, all but shutting the Patriots down. They are the clear villains to our underdog protagonist, Tom Brady (go with me here). The score is 21-3 at halftime. Act 2. Lady Gaga gives us a Bad Romance with about 300 aerial drones. There’s a shift in the air. Brady starts to drive the ball downfield harder than before. Julian Edelman makes one of the craziest catches in NFL history. The score is tied as the clock runs out. In the first overtime in Super Bowl history, De’Vondre Campbell stretches the ball over the goal line seconds before his knee hits the ground. The Patriots officially have completed the biggest comeback in Super Bowl history. Curtain, end of show. We had a plot arc. We had heroes and villains. We had music. We had a theatrical performance seen by millions around the country. All we need is a score by Pasek and Paul, and we’ve got the next big hit on our hands.
Then there is the time-honored tradition of exhibition teams. The gold standard is the Harlem Globetrotters. This 99-year-old organization has always prioritized making basketball a more theatrical experience. There’s comedy, trick shots, music, and actual gameplay. I’ve seen Spider-Man dunk on the court before. In more recent exhibition fun, we have the birth of baseball’s Savannah Bananas. You have most likely seen the dancing ump or the backflip catch on TikTok or Instagram. Their mission statement is “fans first.” They prioritize entertainment above all, and they STILL keep the gameplay fun and, well, sports. I watched their season opener a week ago; they began the game with a kickline to “Be Our Guest.” You cannot claim to dislike sports when you have the option of exhibition teams.
Finally, we have the most obvious example I can think of: professional wrestling. Bro Theater. The definition of “kayfabe” is “portraying staged events within the industry as real or true.” That is the most theatrical practice I’ve ever heard of. Are you telling me that a character called The Undertaker is not actually an undertaker? Has John Cena actually been visible this whole time? Is The Rock’s elbow truly that powerful, and does it cause problems on his movie sets? They’re characters with a three-act plot. The wrestling ring is a damn stage. Is it any wonder that at least 30 pro wrestlers have become Hollywood actors?
Sports is a primetime soap opera. It’s very easy to get caught in the less savory elements of it. We can turn our noses up at our friends who scream obscenities at the TV or at the fans that tried to pry the baseball out of Mookie Betts’ glove. I’m still annoyed that Broadway shut down for a year and a half while the MLB was allowed to continue during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. But it’s all a part of it. It’s all a hilarious, heartbreaking, empowering view of the human condition. We root for our heroes, sneer at our villains, and laugh at the bad renditions of the National Anthem. We come together as people to celebrate the highs and lows of storytelling.
So, my dear theater friend, the next time you find yourself griping about the length of the Mets game that your friend dragged you to, just remember that they found a way to put “Rocky” on Broadway.
“If you love lacrosse, you’ll love field hockey!” is the biggest lie I’ve ever been sold. That hockey ball is solid plastic flying directly toward your teeth. I have big front teeth; I don’t need to worry about them getting violently knocked out.
“Sports” refers to primetime organizations: MLB, NFL, NBA, NHL, etc. I’d associate these organizations with more traditionally “masculine” traits. The wide world of sports is expansive and all-encompassing, but when someone says “sports,” be honest: you think about Travis Kelce, don’t you?
Apt analogy I think! I’m kinda the flip side of you. Love sports, love great theater. Emphasis on great. I can sit through the shittiest game and be happy. Bad theater makes me wanna get drunk as fast as humanly possible 🤣