Tonight I had work. It was very quiet; New Zealand were playing Australia in a game of rugby in town. Because this was a 'big deal', some roads in the central city had been closed, and there was a parade to the stadium.
When I was younger, I cared immensely about rugby. In fact, at the corresponding NZ/Aus match in 2000, I cried and sulked when we lost. I was 15 - how embarrassing. I'm glad I 'grew out of it', to the point where I don't know most of the team members, or care about the results. Well, care only to the point of how those results affect the 'national psyche': elation or despondency depending on eighty minutes.
I cycled home from work, through the road closures. There were more people, more yelling, and more police than a usual Saturday night. Why don't people get this excited about art? Or music? Or touching moments of beauty?
I'm lucky that while most people don't, my friends do.