Sticking to Sports
The first time I was asked to recite a roster, I was probably 11 or 12 years old. The joke was on the guy who’d challenged me, because I owned a calendar depicting the team in question, Liverpool. (I know, I know, withhold your judgment.) I’d rattled off all 12 players on the calendar before he conceded. In retrospect, I could’ve made up my own lineup and he might not have realized; he wasn’t even a Liverpool fan himself.
The last time I was asked to recite a roster was a few months ago; the asker didn’t watch the sport in question. I’ll give him this: He was honest. “You only like the team because you think their star player is hot,” he’d said, as I sputtered with indignation and listed off the entire team. At first, I was pretty proud that I’d remembered 20-something names. Once the self-satisfaction faded, and I’d made enough jokes about it, I was angry.