The agony of the spoiler: Die Patriots Die?




Let’s face it: spoilers suck. And people who spoil things are utter scum-sucking, bottom-feeding slugs who deserve to spend an eternity in purgatory. Damn them!

This post is primarily about spoilers in sports. Movies, TV shows…that’s a whole different ballgame, and perhaps the subject of another post.

Whether you are into sports or not, it doesn’t matter. I’ll still try to suffuse a bit of ‘bigger picture’ perspective on things. But let me tell you: I have had so many sporting events over the years spoiled, and I definitely hold grudges forever. I have a very hard time forgiving people over spoiling things for me.

Firstly, many of you might be asking – how can there be spoilers in sports? Aren’t most events broadcast live these days? If I watch something live, won’t that mean avoiding spoilers?

Would that it were so easy.

Obviously, and as my good pal Jeff repeatedly tells me, if I want to avoid spoilers and then grumbling about it, then just watch the damn thing live!

Again, if only it were that easy.

The three sports that have been spoiled the most for me over the years are [American] football, football/soccer and tennis. While living in Europe, the time difference means there are a lot of football games that come on at ungodly hours (2am, for example). Most of my tennis-related experiences came when I was living in the US.

With major events – World Cup final, Super Bowl – I’ll do everything it takes to watch it live. There’s too much risk involved and over the past few years, it’s getting harder and harder to avoid spoilers thanks to social media and the internet.

During the World Cup in 2002 in Japan and South Korea, I was working in Boston. The time difference meant matches came on at 2.30, 5.00 and 7.30am. Though I had a pretty intense job that required a high level of focus and concentration, I watched as many matches live as possible, especially the big ones. A couple of my colleagues at the time, who hated soccer, took great joy in spoiling some of the matches, the ones I would record to watch later that night after work. I realised quite early in the World Cup that I would have to take drastic action – I went to my boss and actually managed to negotiate a flexible schedule that meant I could arrive late on some days, particularly those with the 7.30 matches. Problem pretty much solved, though I did have a month of nasty sleep deprivation.

Big life changes

When you have a family, a demanding job requiring concentration and alertness, or you just need to get your precious sleep, then you have no choice but to watch things later.

In the meantime, you just have to do whatever it takes to avoid spoilers. In my case, that means a mania bordering on utter paranoia. There are ‘easy’ things like avoiding the internet. But it’s amazing how many inadvertent little things end up acting as spoilers. People think I’m crazy and overreact to things. But for paramaniacs like me, every little thing that someone says can be interpreted as a clue which gets my mind racing with thoughts. And even if it’s not a direct spoiler (‘Nadal won in 3 sets!’), the agonizing and overthinking still adversely effects the viewing experience. There have been times when I’ve been a bonehead and accidentally spoiled something. But most of the time it’s other idiots who spoil things, most of the time not even realizing they’ve done it.

This post has been in the pipeline for quite some time. But it was the loss of the New England Patriots a few weeks ago and the potential end to their dynasty, which my wife inadvertently spoiled for me while we were on holiday in Vienna, that spurred me into action.

There’s no getting around the fact that it’s family members, those nearest and dearest to you, who tend to be some of the most egregious spoilers. These are very often minor little spoilers that don’t necessarily give away the result, but still act as major impediments to my full, unadulterated enjoyment of the event. Sometimes it’s seemingly innocuous comments that, if you read into them too closely, can often spoil things: ‘wow, what a surprising result’; ‘it wasn’t a good game at all, it wasn’t even close’; ‘it wasn’t such a long game’. When my wife says ‘your father put something about the game on Facebook’ I know right away that if it’s involving the Dolphins – his team – they won. If it involves the Patriots – who he hates – they lost. And when my wife commented another time that he hadn’t put anything on Facebook, well…

You get the point.

(I wonder, are there others out there as paranoid and petty as me?)

The prologue: minor spoilers that affect the viewing experience

1 Being told that a tennis match went to 4 or 5 sets. Often the people who spoil these things know nothing about tennis and don’t even realise how this can be a spoiler. And then when you react to their spoilage, they incredulously deny that they’ve spoiled anything. A further particularly nasty habit of these cretins is when they offer up a feeble ‘tennis is a stupid sport anyway’ excuse.

2 A typical American football game lasts roughly 3 hours of real time, with commercials. When I watch the next day on NFL Game Pass, it takes the commercials out and condenses the game to around 2:10-2:15. When the game loads, you can see in the bottom right-hand corner how long the game was. But if it goes into overtime, it tends to be closer to 2:30-2:35. As I’m loading the game, I have to cover that part of the screen with my hand, which then disappears when I maximise the screen. This is me at my pettiest and most paranoid. Knowing that a game has potentially gone into overtime affects my enjoyment of the game: right away I know it’s going to be close. And if it’s late in the game, and one team is down by 7 and driving for a tying score…well, then I have a good idea of what the outcome is going to be judging from how much time is left. This is usually avoidable but then are times when it gets spoiled (sometimes it’s the cat or the baby just bumping the computer and I can’t help but notice the time in the corner).

The big spoilers, mainly due to idiocy.

1 ESPN showing the results of tennis matches at the bottom of the screen while showing tape-delayed matches. In the late 90s, early 2000s, a lot of tennis was only showed on tape delay and there was no way to watch live. But amazingly, you might be watching a match only to have the result of that very same match given away at the bottom of the screen. ESPN was deluged with so many complaints that they finally put a stop to this. But did they learn their lesson? Oh no, as we’ll see in a moment.

2 Euro 2000: ‘So Patrick was saying, should we watch the final in an Italian bar or a French bar?’

This was again while working in Boston. Matches were often played at noon or 2.30pm local time, and there was no way to adjust my schedule so that I’d have the middle of the day free. One of my favourite pubs and regular football/soccer watching haunts was The Plough and Stars in Cambridge. They’d show the matches live, but also tape delayed that evening, so I’d pop in after work for a couple of Guinnesses. On the day of the semifinal between the Netherlands and Italy (France had won the previous day’s semifinal), at a table just next to me of 2 women and a man presumably named Patrick, one of the idiots casually mentioned in a rather loud voice their final day viewing options. At this stage of the match, early in the 1st half, Italy were down to 10 men and Holland were vastly outplaying the Italians, peppering the goal with shot after shot. Watching it, I expected Holland to win 4-0. But as soon as this nitwit gave away the result, I and about 6 others screamed at her and threatened eternal damnfire and damnation to rain down on her. They were fairly quiet and morose after that. Still, match spoiled: it finished 0-0 and Italy won on penalties.

3 Wimbledon Final, 2001:  Goran Ivanisevic v Pat Rafter. Because of a rain delay on the Sunday, the final was moved to Monday. This is a day I should have called in sick. My colleagues took great joy in offering up teasing clues as to the outcome, including going to other colleagues’ desks and sending emails purporting to be from them saying crap like ‘Rafter won!’ and ‘wow, it’s now in the 5th set!’ In what turned out to be one of the most epic finals in tennis history, I watched Ivanisevic’s victory that night after work in a foul, grumpy mood, unable to relax and enjoy it.

4 In the regular season of any league, you know the matchups in advance. When it comes to the playoffs in football and the knockout rounds in soccer, someone telling you the next matchup obviously gives away the result of the match you’ve yet to watch. Very often the person doing this is totally oblivious as to how they’ve spoiled anything: ‘The next match is England v Sweden’ on Saturday, while you’re in the middle of watching England v Colombia.

5 For some of the most ridiculous spoilers I’ve even encountered, we have to go to Euro 2016, starting from the semifinals. Up to this point, there’s been an epic Northern Ireland victory over Ukraine, and Wales has made a magical run to the semifinals, beating Belgium in the quarterfinals. Next up: a semifinal versus Portugal.

Euro 2016 part 1: the lengths I go to to watch things live

We were flying back to the US and I was trying to time the days and flights to avoid missing matches. But in the course of my flight booking research, I noticed that Turkish Airlines was a sponsor and were showing matches live on their flights. And what a bonus: the best, cheapest option for flying from Kyiv-Boston was on Turkish Airlines. That meant we’d get to watch Wales v Portugal.

But no: there were technical problems and the game wasn’t on.

But I had a backup plan: my dad was DVRing it and we could watch it that night.

The plane landed, people started standing up and gathering their belongings. Unfortunately I let my guard down for just a second too long. Just a few rows behind us was the dictionary definition of a douchebag, who had whipped out his phone to check the result, proclaiming in a booming voice as he stood up: ‘oh man, Wales lost, that sucks!’

Euro 2016 part 2:

The next day was the 2nd semifinal, Germany v France. Just a few hours after arriving in Boston, the family all piled into the minivan for a 16 hour trek down to South Carolina. Nice welcome to America for my poor wife – a long plane journey, a few hours to ‘relax’ while I vented and fumed over the idiot who had spoiled the Wales match, and then an arduous journey in a minivan.

We had to wait until our arrival to catch an encore presentation of the match on ESPN. So there we were watching it when, during the halftime commercial break, ESPN starting showing promos for the upcoming Euro 2016 Final: Portugal v France.

Well done, ESPN.

Euro 2016 part 3: the denouement (not only of France)

‘Portugal won and so can you!’

Perhaps this one was my fault on many different levels. I watched the first 90 minutes and then, when it went into extra time level at 0-0, I inexplicably decided not to finish watching and figured I’d watch the replay the following day when it was being re-broadcast. (can I blame my wife for this? She wanted to go to the pool and asked if I’d go with her. I could have said no, I suppose.)

Then, the next day I checked my email. I actually had to check it for work-related reasons, and I can assure you that I really had no choice, it was a fairly urgent matter.

And despite my best efforts, that’s when I saw the spoiler: an email from an unknown address with the subject line ‘Portugal won and so can you!’

Unbelievably, my spam filter failed to weed this one out. It was from some outfit called the Cactus Language School, who I’d never heard of, with some special offer for language courses. I was incredulous! In a fit of rage, I immediately replied to them with a message full of threats and insults, saying I was going to bring their sorry excuse of a language school down for having the audacity to send me such a poorly thought-out unsolicited message.

And amazingly, it actually got me into trouble at work. Although I didn’t mention where I worked and wrote the email purely on a personal level, those cretins somehow tracked me down and got in touch with my boss, who called me into his office and gave me a telling off. This was perhaps even more unbelievable than the original affront.

The present day: 2 February 2020, hours away from Super Bowl 54

And here we are, with the Super Bowl kicking off in just a few hours. And I’ve decided to put my paranoia into action and really throw caution to the wind. I’m going to pass on the 1.30am kickoff and watch it tomorrow. On the surface it might appear risky, but where I live in Kyiv, the chances of it getting spoiled have to be pretty low, right?

Starting from my earliest memory of watching the Super Bowl (1985), I have only missed 2 Super Bowls: from 2006, when I was living in Lviv, and in 2009 when I had just moved to Kyrgyzstan. In both cases, there was absolutely nowhere to watch it. In 2006, I just checked the result right away (it was one of the worst Super Bowls ever, by most accounts). In 2009, it was surprisingly easy not to see the result – my sister downloaded the game and sent it on a CD, but before it arrived, I got a bit impatient and checked the result for myself. I do think I might have managed to avoid it for longer though.

It’s harder these days, it seems. Just when you least expect it…

Which takes us back to Vienna. The Titans were playing the Patriots while we were visiting. I could have watched it live (at 2.30am) but it would have been tricky, and it would have been on my tablet. Could have watched it the next day, but again, on my tablet? Call me picky, but I wanted to wait until getting back to Kyiv where I could watch it on a big screen. But this meant surviving about 5 days of not having it spoiled.

And there I was on the Vienna underground staring absentmindedly at the advertisements projected onto the side of the tunnels, which usually show things like the Vienna opera or ads for local services or what-have-you. But then suddenly, up flashed a bit of sports news featuring none other than the New England Patriots. I immediately looked away, having only seen the first four words of the headline: ‘Die New England Patriots…’

Damn it!

But then…I realised that this was hardly a spoiler at all. Had they won? Had they lost? Usually the headline would feature the winning team, but in the case of the Patriots, it could go either way. The more I thought about it, the more uncertain I was about whether this was even a spoiler at all. Thank goodness for that, I could still enjoy the game. Right?

I told my wife about this. She asked me whether it would be such a bad thing if the Patriots lost. ‘Well, of course it would, it’s the playoffs, they lose and they’re out.’

And the look on her face as I said this totally gave the result away. I can’t really describe the look, but she knew, it was clear. They had in fact lost.

I didn’t say a word at first, quickly and abruptly trying to change the subject, forget about it, banish it from my mind. But I couldn’t and it lingered. I was stewing on the inside. We got back to Kyiv and I watched the game, never able to fully relax (I actually would be the first to admit that the problem is all with me). I knew they were going to lose. And lose they did, with the dynasty perhaps over.

After the game, I did ask my wife whether she knew the result for sure and she dithered and dathered before sheepishly admitting that she thought she had seen something on social media or she suspected something. She tried to wriggle out of it, but it was all too late.

Have I learned my lesson? Hell no. I’m taking a chance that this Super Bowl won’t be spoiled. I’ve reached the point where I can’t stay up all night and then suffer through the next day, especially when I’ve got a little one to take care of. I’ll try not to venture out, I won’t go near my computer or tablet and just hope for the best.

And if it gets spoiled…serves me right.

(‘The Chiefs won and so can you!’)



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