When I was in college, I would often hang out with some friends of mine in their dorm room, where we would spend hours watching whatever mediocre sporting events were on TV and trying to one-up each other by citing increasingly obscure St. Louis athletes (Murray Baron! Madison Hedgecock! Scott Radinsky!). Like, this was literally an entire game we would play.
We were sports nerds, living as a small collective of sports nerds at the last possible point in our lives before the burdens of actual, adult responsibility could begin to threaten the reservoirs of useless knowledge we had accumulated over twenty-plus years.