Monday, February 2, 1998
Internet links sports fans together but addicts users
COMMENTARY Chat rooms, hours spent on line can lead to ‘real’
relationships
Don’t know when it started. Guess it was when times were boring
during spring quarter of 1996. Roommate was into the party scene,
so she’d leave on Friday nights with her friends to do whatever.
Never into that sort of thing, I stayed in those nights and was
bored. Until I found out what Netscape was all about.
Used e-mail before to talk to family and friends in far-off
places. It’s free! But I didn’t explore the internet any further.
Had assigned reading to do.
Then the boredom grew, pushing to the extreme. Burnt out on
reading, so never touched the "fun" books I had brought along with
me at the start of the year, stupidly figuring there would be the
desire to look them over during "homework-down" times.
So paid attention to this icon that popped up next to the Eudora
mailbox whenever opening the Bruin OnLine folder. "Wow, that looks
neat, let’s find out what’s hiding behind that." Whammo, the end of
my grip on sanity.
Being a sports nut (and a Braves fan at the time), I went
looking for some information on them. Heard of the Internet before,
but had no real idea of what it meant. Oh, a chat room! How cool.
Talk with some people about the Braves! Click here, click there …
And you’re in, talking with people from everywhere you can imagine.
And they aren’t psycho-pedophiliacs like the Internet-shy media
would have you believe.
Hey, you should try out the ESPN room. It’s fun, someone says.
But how do I get there? Follow me by clicking on this, and then
follows a bunch of interesting jargon. Okay … Even better! People
from even more places talking about all sorts of things, not just
baseball. Chatting about their lives and, of course, other chatters
who aren’t there at the moment.
Don’t remember how long I stayed on that one night. Think I went
down to the computer lab because my computer was slow (as if those
are any faster!). Stayed there for a looooong time.
Being a new chick on the ‘Net, and in a sports chat room no
less, it was easy to make "friends." The guys never let me talk to
another person. They wanted me to themselves. As if that happens in
real life. It sure was easy and fun to talk with those people. We
could make up all sorts of stories about ourselves, and no one
would know the truth. Hell, if you’re a guy, you can pretend you
are a chick. Nobody knows. I could be the sassy bitch I wanted to
be, instead of the introverted loner.
Went to bed around 3 a.m. that night, I guess. Pretty early
compared to some nights that would follow, chatting on the computer
and talking on the phone with my new pals. The computer would be on
all day, sometimes for no reason at all. Come play with me, it
called.
The chat became a way of life that spring quarter. Baseball
season was in full swing, so there were plenty of people to
converse with. Why did I wait so long to find this place?
Developed some good relationships with some people, so we
exchanged e-mails, mailing addresses and phone numbers (but no nude
photos). Some e-mails would say, Hey, go over to the chat now,
so-and-so is around! So off we go, with a click here and a click
there. But we never really went anywhere.
Roommate made fun of me now for being such a computer nerd. But
then she joined the chat one night and we had fun. She never got
hooked like me. Spent the summer at school, so my Internet
addiction grew worse. Yes, it’s an addiction. I don’t care what you
say, I’ve lived through it.
Met someone that summer at the chat. Don’t remember which one.
There are so many. But he was great. At summer school in Texas.
Braves fan too, but a true diehard, unlike me, who had switched
over after the 1991 season (hiss). We grew really close, amazingly.
Cyber-best friends, I would now say. That sounds pretty meaningful,
don’t you think? It’s possible. Only managed one phone conversation
during our year of talking, but it was a blast. True Southern
accent. What a kick!
Things turned sour during winter quarter of 1997. Personal lives
changed too much. Couldn’t even rely on baseball as a fallback
conversation topic at that time. Not that much to discuss during
the offseason. That gets old after awhile. Grew farther apart than
we already were. Get over it, you don’t really know him. Yeah
right, I say. You can learn a lot from a person in a 10-minute
conversation and hundreds of hours of on-line talking.
Tried to resurrect the friendship from the dead by talking about
a face-to-face meeting. He’d fly out to see me. Of course, the
visit would coincide with a Braves roadtrip to California. Plans
didn’t work. Got angry with each other. Tempers can flare over the
Internet very easily and realistically.
Who cares anymore, I’d tell myself. But it still hurt. The final
e-mail from my first good Internet buddy. Ouch.
But it really didn’t matter then and it doesn’t matter now.
There was someone better to talk to out there, and we were
fortunate enough to bump into each other one night at ESPN
baseball. It was Midnight Madness time, so basketball was on our
minds. Met in the baseball room, talking hoops. Whatever. He was a
fan of UCLA. Wanted to know what it was like here. I said it was
cool, especially in the dorms cuz you get free internet access.
Waiting for him to arrive at my door as I write this. He’s
coming down from three hours away to visit for the weekend. Today
is the eight-month anniversary of our first face-to-face meeting.
Been inseparable ever since. Lucky to carry our relationship over
into the "real world" and make it work. Is that him? Oh, that’s
just the "new mail" chime on the e-mail. Maybe it’s one of my old
friends from ESPN chat.
Wilcox, despite being a third-year senior, is still living in
the dorms. Can’t give up that free and easily accessible Internet
access! Would you? E-mail her at [email protected]. Since her
computer is on all day, she’s likely to respond within seconds.
Kristina Wilcox