Why We'll Watch

Millions tune in to the Olympics hoping to see a performance that ranks as the fastest, farthest, or highest in history. We asked social psychologist Sam Sommers (co-author of This Is Your Brain on Sports) about the impact of witnessing greatest-of-all-time performances.

Why do we debate whether this or that achievement is the greatest?

We like organizing information: Making relative judgments helps us make sense of the world. When you get an exam back in chemistry class, the first thing you want to know is what grade that guy down the row got. Maybe we do a bit of that when we try to figure out how Reggie Miller's scoring eight points in nine seconds compares to Stephen Curry's hitting a three from midcourt.

How do major competitions help define our lives?

Sports fandom is very personal. I'm someone who, to the chagrin of family members, marks the passage of time with sports. If we were at so-and-so's wedding, in my mind that was during Game 3 of the World Series. For some of us, the personal, cultural, and social all get intertwined. There is an emotional connection to the ups and downs, which we may not have too many of in our personal lives. It's a little like a horror movie or a roller coaster—a safe way to feel arousal, and it bonds us to other people.

Isn't it a safe way to indulge in a tribal mentality, too?

I think it taps into that. There are recent fMRI studies that show activation of the brain regions associated with other forms of pleasure, exhibited by people not only when their own teams win but when their archrivals do poorly.

Why do fans take teams' victories so personally?

We get a vicarious boost of self-esteem by aligning ourselves with winners. It's why people tout the very tenuous relationship they may have to a celebrity. We don't always do it: If you and your friend decide to move to California to become actors, and your friend suddenly hits it big, that might be painful because you're still tending bar. Luckily, in sports, it's not usually an issue. We're rooting for a professional team that we have no real designs of playing for, so its successes are always successes for us.

People tend to pull for the underdog more than the favorite. Do you?

I'm a big-time underdog guy: I get goosebumps watching the Al Michaels call at the end of the 1980 Miracle on Ice [when the U.S. Olympic hockey team upset the heavily favored Soviets]. As an American, you don't get to see the country as an underdog often, so maybe there's something especially appealing about it.