Live Experience vs Home Comfort

by Angela Sanford

   My husband, Dan, and I are opposites in many ways, but perhaps nowhere more so than when it comes to watching sports or attending live events.

   Dan prefers the advantages of watching from home: the ability to watch the replays, being able to pause the moment, the comfort of his own couch and bathroom, and of course, the lower cost. I can agree with him on that last point and on the washrooms (though Roger’s Centre was very clean and never did I have to wait in line!). Beyond that, however, our preferences are quite different.

   I enjoy the thrill and anticipation of attending a live event. I love the energy, the atmosphere and the social aspect of being part of a shared experience. Of course, there are drawbacks—like the person sitting beside you who has applied enough aftershave or cologne to make everyone within three seats question their life choices.

   But for me, those little inconveniences are part of the experience.

   I love the randomness of the “small world” moments that happen when you attend an event. At the Jays game, for example, I ran into a colleague sitting only one section away from us. Before the game, as Dan and I were walking along the street toward the gate, we also recognized a familiar family passing by. We called out, stopped for a quick chat and then continued on our way. Those unexpected encounters simply don't happen when you're watching from your living room.

   I also enjoy seeing the action unfold in person. Whether it's sport, theatre, music or another type of performance, there is something different about being there as it happens. And you see the athletes and performers not simply as familiar faces on a screen, but as real people in front of you—people whose talent, effort and emotion become much more tangible when you're watching them live. You aren't simply watching the event; you're part of the crowd experiencing it together.

   And I love the roar of that crowd—although I could do without the booing. I've written about that before, and I still don't understand why enjoying a sport has to mean tearing down the people playing it.

   Of course, live events come with their own advantages and disadvantages.

   One thing I appreciated at the Rogers Centre was the ability to bring your own food and drinks rather than being expected to purchase everything inside. That alone can make a difference to the cost of attending. Even better for me, there were multiple gluten-free options available, so I was actually able to enjoy some of the concessions. In fact, I think this may have been the first sporting event I've attended where I felt like I had genuine food choices rather than simply one token option.

   I even had enough popcorn left over to enjoy as a snack on the flight home the following night.

   And then there was Looney Tuesday.

   If we'd been watching the game from home, Dan wouldn't have experienced the fun of Looney Tuesday—or eaten nearly as many hot dogs as he did. Some experiences are simply tied to being there.

   The atmosphere of the Rogers Centre was another thing television couldn't replicate. Sitting outside after dark, surrounded by thousands of fans and looking up toward the red glow of the CN Tower, created a feeling that simply doesn't translate to a television screen.

   We didn't have a ball land in our section, nor did we catch one of the balls tossed into the stands after being removed from play. But we watched kids and adults around us experience those moments. We saw the excitement on their faces as they caught a foul ball or received a ball under the net. We could live vicariously through their excitement—and maybe that's part of the magic, too.

   Then there was the Jays Care 50/50 draw.

   Under normal circumstances, I probably wouldn't have bought a ticket online. But standing in the middle of the excitement, surrounded by thousands of other hopeful fans, it was easy to get caught up in the moment. So we bought the add-ons, crossed our fingers and allowed ourselves to imagine that maybe, just maybe, we'd be the lucky ones.

   That's another difference between watching a game at home and being there in person. At home, you can control almost everything. You can pause the action, grab a snack from your own kitchen, turn down the volume and walk away whenever you want. You can see every replay and get the benefit of multiple camera angles. And there's something to be said for the comfort, convenience and considerably lower cost.

   But you also miss the unexpected.

   You miss the stranger sitting beside you who becomes part of your story for an evening. You miss the collective gasp of thousands of people reacting to the same play at exactly the same moment. You miss the chance encounters, the traditions, the atmosphere and the little moments that aren't part of the official game at all.

   Maybe that's why, despite all of Dan's perfectly reasonable arguments for watching from home, I'll continue to choose the live experience whenever I can.

   Some things are better seen on television. Others are better experienced.