Sudden Death

I like sports. You would probably describe me as a sports fan (from the Latin "fanatic"). I rarely sit still as I watch my favorite teams play. I find that a lot of excess pacing and stomping about helps stimulate blood flow to my brain that might shut down if I held still too long. I get a lot of sideways looks from my friends and family when a game is close and I feel the need to will my team onward.
As obsessive as my behavior can be at times, there are plenty of folks who make my celebrations and remonstrations seem polite or quaint by comparison. Soccer fans (from the Latin "hooligans") in England will periodically show off their extra zeal by burning something down or inviting riot police to join in the fun had in the stands. Uday Hussein went one better in Iraq, back in the bad old days, and made the soccer stadium a focal point of his torture campaign. Soccer players were among the athletes who said they were beaten and otherwise abused when they returned from losses in international events. Uday was a "bad fan" (from the Latin "psychotic").
Keeping this in mind, my wife will routinely check in with me about my level of commitment. "How much are we going to care about the Broncos this year?" To be honest, I usually end up caring more than I would like to, but I'm having some success monitoring my blood pressure and other bodily functions. I'm sure there are plenty of stories about fans (from the Latin "idjits") who have dropped dead as the home run cleared the fence, or the field goal hooked wide right, or the ball, puck or other projectile banged off the intended target without completing the score. That would be ridiculous and or tragic - depending on how much of one's estate was invested on the wager that the fan's (from the Latin "moron's") family was left to pay off.
It is, after all, just a game. Isn't it?