Turning 30 wasn’t something that completely snuck up on me. It probably started on my 27th birthday. That felt like the last real birthday of my 20’s. When I hit 28, it was the beginning of the end. People got married, kids were born, I started getting a few grey hairs… Twenty-nine wasn’t really anything but a speed bump. By this past April, I was staring down the barrel of true adulthood.
They say that age is just a number; I don’t know, maybe it is, but this birthday hit me kind of hard. My recovery involved many long walks, contemplative moments and pretending it was still July 2000 and not 2010, which was great until I realized that walking around in orange Abercrombie parachute pants and reeking of Curve wasn’t really a great idea. In any case, during the course of my hiatus, I was hit with a number of revelations. Some of them involved being a sports fan. And while I hate people telling me what to do, I don’t care, I’m old now. You have to listen to me. Thus, my eight simple rules for the 30 year-old sports fan: Read the rest of this entry