All-Star Sunday Under the Table

Of all the takeaways from Jenkins' Convergence Culture, the idea that left the most lasting impression in my mind is that of the instant recognizability of our changing world. Jenkins' work was not simply philosophical musings and far-off theorization: what Jenkins was describing is happening around us, and the immediacy of his writings have struck me as most interesting in the wake of reading and responding to his book. One of the most fascinating examples of convergence that has captivated me throughout the semester is the role it has begun playing in sports. Sports are no longer isolated events; with the growing influence of Twitter and Facebook, as well as advancements in technology for in the home and online, sporting events have truly become events that take in a realm that expands far outside of the confines of a sporting events given venue. This has admittedly long been a theme in sports; some people listen to a game on the radio, some attend live, some watch on tv, and these practices have been going on for decades. But today, we have a way bigger sphere of influence that sporting events are reaching. No longer are we confined to the venue itself, the tv, and the radio: we have Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, iPhone apps, online streams, and even text messages, all telling us what's going on at the same time.

The NBA All-Star game represents this new model more than anything in recent memory. This past Sunday, the Staples Center in Los Angeles played host to basketball's finest players in one of the greatest All-Star games in recent memory, and potentially of all time. Kobe Bryant walked away with MVP honors after a staggering 37 point, 14 rebound performance, with his Western conference squad eeking out a win, while the Eastern conference team fell despite LeBron James' extremely rare All-Star Sunday triple-double – 29 points, 12 rebounds, 10 assists. Kobe Bryant failed to score in the last 7 minutes; Kevin Durant scored some huge baskets to preserve the Western conference lead; LeBron James lead the East back from 17 down to within 2 in the final minutes; the Eastern conference team featured a lineup containing four players from the same Celtics team at times. None of these tidbits necessarily matter: what does matter is that I know all of this... and I didn't watch the game.

This past Sunday also happened to be the date set for a dinner I was to have with my girlfriend's mother and my girlfriend's mother's best friend; I was meeting them for the first time. The night was pleasant and went very well – but I didn't get to see the game at all. What was billed as one of the best All-Star lineups in years seemed as though it was simply going to come and go for me while I was having dinner at Sushi Zushi in downtown Austin.

But, this is 2011. Not 2002. The All-Star game is not limited to an engaging television event any longer. With the NBA GameTime app on my iPhone, I received notifications of the score at the end of each quarter, along with the winner of the MVP trophy. Facebook statuses reflected the goings-on of the game. Hip hop blogs had the halftime show, which featured Rihanna, Drake and Kanye West, complete in the glory of his shiny red pants, available to watch before the game was even over. Tweets reduced the games most exciting moments into bite-sized pieces of information and under-a-minute long video links. Years ago I would have hoped that the VCR managed to record the game successfully, then come home to watch it, while avoiding any information about the game before doing so to not ruin the surprise. In our converging social experience, even though I wasn't going to be able to watch the game, I received the full experience of the game. I'm able to discuss the happenings of the game online and with friends in person – I've argued endlessly that Kobe Bryant didn't deserve the MVP award. Yet, outside of the combined 4 or 5 minutes of YouTube links I've watched with snippets of action, I shouldn't have an opinion on what happened because I didn't see it. And even though I didn't see it, I experienced it. This wealth of information that we have at our disposal, and the countless platforms with which it can reach us, leaves no event out of reach.

While this example may seem extremely trivial and unimportant, it's honestly really startling to reflect back on: I watched the game, without watching the game. I would have loved to sit down and spend 2 and a half hours watching the game's best players fly around, putting up nearly 300 combined points, but I know just as much about the game as I would've anyway without having seen it. This immediacy of information doesn't lessen the experience of watching the game, however, as I still plan on watching it when I get a chance this week since I have it recorded. But to be able to take in the entirety of the All-Star game – or any other important social or cultural event – without actively engaging in it is exceedingly interesting, slightly frightening, and endlessly question-raising. What does it mean to experience things anymore? I experienced everything about the NBA All-Star game from a phone sending me messages, and quick site glances all from under the table, or during bathroom breaks at a Sushi Zushi, as well as a quick scan of social networking sites upon getting home after dinner for more specifics on what it is that I just "experienced." Is this all an enhancement to the game? Or a replacement to the game? Or is the game itself a supplement to this cross-platform experience? It was a replacement for me, but it seems as though this social interactivity is positioned as a supplement to the game by the NBA. Even then, it could be argued that the game itself simply gives us a reason to convene in these spaces; we want to converse with others in this online space, but we need a reason to – on Sunday, the game and its halftime entertainment was that reason. Convergence culture is real. And I know this because I watched the All-Star game while I ate sushi with my girlfriend and her mom.