I'm a big sports guy - golf, tennis, baseball, basketball

In the words of Jason Dohring, “I’m a big sports guy – golf, tennis, baseball, basketball, snowboarding – and I love games,” we hear not merely a casual declaration of preference, but a reflection of a spirit that resonates with the ancient longing for movement, contest, and play. For the elders of old knew: to love sports is to embrace both discipline and joy, and to cherish games is to walk the fine path between struggle and celebration. Dohring’s words remind us that life itself is a game—a field upon which we test our strength, our will, and our devotion to craft.

The origin of this statement lies in a life touched by many fields of play. Golf, with its quiet patience, teaches the art of focus. Tennis, swift and demanding, reveals the value of endurance. Baseball speaks of rhythm, patience, and timing, while basketball pulses with energy, teamwork, and grace. Snowboarding—wild and untamed—reminds us that not all mastery is found in courts or arenas, but also upon the mountains, where one rides against gravity itself. In weaving together these many pursuits, Dohring voices a truth: that life is not one game, but many, and the wise learn to delight in them all.

Consider the story of the Greek runner Pheidippides, who after the battle of Marathon ran tirelessly to Athens to announce victory, only to collapse in death. His tale is not one of despair but of triumph; his body gave way, but his spirit carried the message of glory. In the same way, the athlete who loves many sports does not bind himself to one field, but embraces the fullness of human strength, balance, and creativity. Each game becomes a teacher, each contest a guide, shaping the character of the player.

Yet Dohring’s words also whisper of something deeper. To say “I love games” is to reveal a soul that delights in challenge, in testing limits, and in the sacred dance between effort and reward. The ancients knew this joy: in the coliseums of Rome, in the Olympic fields of Greece, in the tribal contests of faraway lands. Games are not trivial; they are sacred mirrors of existence. For in every rule lies structure, in every struggle lies chance, and in every victory lies fleeting triumph—just as in life itself.

The emotional resonance of his words teaches us that we must not take the game of life too lightly, nor too seriously. To love sports is to understand rhythm: the high and the low, the win and the loss, the stillness and the storm. In the court of basketball, one moment brings elation, the next despair. In snowboarding, one instant of balance is followed by the peril of the fall. So too is life: each step fragile, each breath uncertain, yet every moment a chance for glory.

From this teaching arises a lesson for the seekers of wisdom: embrace variety, embrace play, embrace challenge. Do not chain yourself to one pursuit only, but test your spirit in many trials, for each will teach you a different strength. The mind sharpened in chess may find balance in running; the body trained in martial arts may discover peace in painting. The whole man is not made by one path but by the weaving together of many.

Therefore, let the listener take this to heart: seek out your sports, your games, the fields upon which your soul may run. Begin with small contests—walks in nature, friendly matches, the learning of new skills. Face them not for victory alone, but for the shaping of the spirit. For in the end, the true triumph is not in the score, nor the trophy, but in the resilience of the soul and the joy carried in the heart.

And so, as the ancients would conclude: live as though life itself were a great tournament, with many fields, many tests, and many joys. Play with courage, play with honor, play with love—and you shall not merely win, but become victorious in spirit. For the one who, like Jason Dohring, declares love for sports and games, has already discovered the hidden truth: that life is richer when we embrace it as play.