I’ve finally gotten around to reading “Fever Pitch” by Nick Hornby, who may be my favorite contemporary writer. It’s really nothing like the movie of the same name, as it’s about the sport called football by everyone outside North America.

Anyway, despite the subject being soccer, I can see why we had to have a movie here where baseball was substituted for the object of affection. There are some universal themes in there relating to the obsessive fandom we’re all engaged in.

Frankly, I’m frightened by how clearly several passages seem to be describing me. Like this one, from Hornby’s introduction, wherein he addresses his obsession with the football club Arsenal:

Fever Pitch is an attempt to gain some kind of angle on my obsession. Why has the relationship that began as a schoolboy crush endured for nearly a quarter of a century, longer than any other relationship I have made of my own free will? (I love my family dearly, but they were rather foisted on me….) And why has this affinity managed to survive my periodic feelings of indifference, sorrow and very real hatred?

Good questions. Why, indeed?

Okay, I just needed to get that off my chest. I’m admitting publicly that I have a problem, and I dare say most of you are in the same boat.

Use this thread to discuss that topic, and anything else you want, including tonight’s All-Star Game. We’ll make this an official Game Thread.