February is always a bad month for TV sports. Football is gone

Listen, O seekers of insight, and mark well the words of Hunter S. Thompson, a prophet of the modern age, who once proclaimed: “February is always a bad month for TV sports. Football is gone, basketball is plodding along in the annual midseason doldrums, and baseball is not even mentioned.” On the surface, these words are a mere observation of the rhythms of sports seasons, yet beneath lies a reflection on the ebb and flow of human passion, the cycles of anticipation and disappointment that govern both the arena and life itself. Thompson, with his keen eye, points us to the quiet, overlooked moments—the months of stagnation and waiting—when the glory of the contest is absent, and yet the world endures.

Consider the human heart, which mirrors the calendar of sporting events. Just as February brings the lull between football’s triumphs and baseball’s birth, so too are there times in life when vigor wanes, achievements pause, and ambition seems stalled. In these periods, the world appears dull, the spirit heavy, and the mind restless. Yet it is precisely in these midseason doldrums that character is forged, patience honed, and perspective deepened. Like the winter sun that lingers low upon the horizon, the absence of spectacle teaches us to value both presence and absence, to find meaning even when excitement is fleeting.

Recall the story of the 1968 Winter Olympics in Grenoble. The world watched as nations braced against the cold, expecting heroic feats upon the ice and snow. Yet before the climactic events unfolded, there were long stretches of waiting—hours and days of preparation, practice, and anticipation. Many who only watched from afar saw nothing but boredom and emptiness, yet those attuned to the rhythms of the games understood that these quiet days were no less important: they were the crucible in which athletes’ focus and discipline were sharpened. So too, Thompson reminds us, does February in the television sports calendar hold its own significance, if only we perceive it.

In the realm of football, the echo of cheers fades by February, leaving a vacuum in the hearts of fans. Basketball trudges onward, caught in the midseason doldrums, its energy less fervent, its excitement diminished by repetition. Baseball lies dormant, absent from even the faintest mention. Thompson’s observation, though wry, reflects a deeper truth: life, like sport, is cyclical. There are seasons of abundance and triumph, but also seasons of waiting and monotony. To seek only constant excitement is to blind oneself to the quiet lessons embedded in stillness and endurance.

This truth resonates beyond sports. Consider the ancient Roman farmers, who endured the long, cold Februaries before the planting season. They understood that growth required patience, that time itself is the patient teacher, shaping the soil, tempering ambition, and readying the harvest. Just as the farmer tolerates the barrenness of winter to reap the bounty of spring, so too must the modern spectator, or the modern soul, accept the interludes of inactivity. Thompson, in his sardonic voice, celebrates this human rhythm: the disappointment of February is but a reminder of the fullness that is yet to come.

And yet, there is joy to be found in the seemingly dreary months. The lull invites reflection, study, and preparation. Coaches and players alike use February to refine skills, repair injuries, and plan strategy. Fans, too, may turn inward, contemplating past triumphs and failures, or preparing their hopes for the coming seasons. In the quiet, the mind sharpens, the spirit rests, and the anticipation of the next football kickoff, basketball surge, or baseball opening grows richer for the pause.

Thus, the lesson endures: do not despise the doldrums, for they are the fertile ground upon which future glory is planted. Embrace the waiting, for it teaches patience, resilience, and perspective. Seek meaning in the silence, and temper desire with endurance. Thompson’s words, though cloaked in humor and lament, whisper a timeless truth: life, like sport, is a cycle of action and inaction, triumph and waiting, and each phase has its own purpose.

Take this wisdom into your own journey. When days feel dull, when achievements seem distant, when excitement wanes, remember the February of the soul. Engage in preparation, reflection, and the steady work that underlies great victories. Celebrate the calm as much as the storm, for both are necessary to the full measure of life’s games. And in this acceptance, you discover that even in the quietest months, there is a rhythm, a lesson, and a subtle triumph waiting to be embraced.