Truthfully, I’ve been looking forward to Episode VII’s premiere more than I have to the first December holiday with my new wife.
I’ll not give away any movie spoilers, but now that I’ve seen the film event of the century, I can finally be excited for Christmas. Don’t worry, I did all my shopping ages ago.
It’s pretty easy to buy Christmas gifts in my family. My dad always wants a pair of new socks — a la Albus Dumbledore. My sister goes crazy when she opens a Cafe Rio gift card, and my mom is just happy all the time because it’s Christmas, obviously.
Anything from Barnes and Noble or Sam Weller’s bookstores are always favorites. The women in the family will fangirl over anything in a Crate and Barrel box.
But gift selections become obvious when I remember that my entire family, including the recent spousal additions, would all score somewhere between 4 and 10 on the latest social media’s “how big of a sports fan are you?” quiz.
So anything sports-related is usually my go-to and/or plan B option — like the book I found on D.C.’s baseball history for those with Natitude, or the Seattle Seahawks ugly sweater I found on Amazon. And since the NBA season conveniently spans the December holidays, I’m always set with Jazz tickets.
I’m not afraid of spoiling my family’s Christmas gifts, especially since the novelty of reading my not-a-student-anymore articles has worn off and my family doesn’t really mind if the Grantsville basketball team has been on a winning streak anymore.
But even during birthdays and random things like graduations, the gift-giving philosophy is the same — Bees baseball tickets are perfect for my wife’s March birthday or my brother-in-law’s July celebration.
I’ll admit, my mother would rather have a new piece of jewelry than lower-bowl tickets. Maybe that’s why she thinks it’s so hard to buy for my dad — I always just figure he’ll love anything I would normally buy for myself, as long as the team logos are what he’s expecting they’ll be.
And whenever I buy something for my brother-in-law that isn’t related to a picture of Big Blue, I just reach into my childhood — what’s more awesome than a remote-control helicopter?
But just in case I haven’t already hit a home run with this year’s Christmas gifts, I’m also giving my family the gift of not spilling any spoilers from the The Force Awakens plot.
Because only a Sith’s priorities are so messed up that they share spoilers.
Tavin Stucki is a sports writer from Midvale, Utah, who hasn’t found a sport he doesn’t like. Send any gift ideas or analysis of Episode VII to email@example.com.