I'm toying with the idea ("toying with the idea" means someone probably won't do something, or if they do, they'll wait at least six months) of writing a personal history of my sports radio listenership here on the old WeBLoG. My Buffalo friends got me hooked on fantasy football during the '02 season, and my interest in sports radio started that winter. Since then, I've listened to thousands of minutes of it -- both games and talk shows -- on our two local stations, and I've seen all sorts of changes in programming. I've had my favorites, as well as shows that made me instantly turn the dial. Sports radio has been there to start my day and been there to put me to bed; it's been there to help calm me during tough times; and it's been there to keep me company when I'm alone.
This all probably sounds a bit strange, but I'm not ashamed. In a weird way, it's become a kind of backing track to my life in Chicago. I remember that Roger Angell book in which he talked about riding in a cab one night with his wife, returning from a dinner party where he had drunk a lot of wine. He laid his head back against the seat and listened to the stream of baseball scores coming from the cabbie's radio. It's always there when you need it -- a continuous hum. That's something I find very comforting.