Okay, I’m a social failure.  I DID NOT KNOW THAT THE BUFFALO BILLS WON A BASEBALL GAME AGAINST THE LOS ANGELES RAMS ON MONDAY. While the TV was on I hid in the bedroom reading my favorite book, Charlotte Bronte’s Villette.

I do not watch baseball, and yet the Bills are a part of my life.  I do not have a Bills t-shirt – yet – but it’s a matter of time. A few years ago I was on a plane to London with a group of Bills fans called the Bills Mafia, who were going to watch the Bills play the Jacksonville Jaguars at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium.

Well, I’m not a sports fan. I have attended professional baseball games, but am distracted by issues of spilling a Diet Coke on the person next to me or the state of the public restroom.

One time I got to sit in an excellent seat behind the baseball wives, because I was an FOBW ( Friend of a Baseball Wife), who was a mere acquaintance actually, but very sweet.  I interviewed her and her family – embarrassingly, I cannot remember their names – but this was a kind gesture I will always remember.

Why do I resist the call of baseball?  It is the intellectual game, I hear. But the only game I liked in gym class was field hockey, and that’s because I got to be the goalie, who had very little to do except stand around and read magazines, and block an occasional ball, which I could almost do without looking up from my magazine.

I dislike sports, which was allowed for women of my generation. We took long walks, bicycled and avoided any sport that involved throwing a ball.

“If you’re having good sex, you don’t need to watch sports,” I say to the sports fans who litter the living room with chips packages and beer cans.

Because who has to pick up the chip packages and beer cans? Well, to be fair, it’s not me. But I do think they could skip a Bills game for a date with their wives/girlfriends/husbands/boyfriends.