“What’s the best sport you’ve ever seen, Ed?” The question from a young friend gave me pause.
Not the best sporting event I’ve ever seen. That might not be easy, but some parameters immediately spring to mind to help refine my choice. No: the best sport, period. I’ve seen a fair few, after all. Got me thinking I should see a few more in 2026, and take others with me too.
It is widely accepted that a gift of an experience to an older friend or relative is more valuable than a physical object. Especially if you tag along as wingman. The dopamine effect of a shared experience has a long half-life. I warrant that’s not just true for the elderly either.
Gen Z, feeding off their Instagram urge and channelling mankind’s sociability, has embraced the value of “being there”. When you’re nailing down your Christmas gifts, make sure that tickets are top of your list across the ages. Start ‘em young.
“The relationship improvements that recipients derive from experiential gifts stem from the intensity of emotion that is evoked when they consume the gifts, rather than when the gifts are received.”
Study by Cindy Chan and Cassie Mogilner. Read it here.
The “best sport” debate arose while waiting for Radiohead to take the stage at the O2. Not a band I really knew (apologies to those diehards who feel they should have had my precious seat in the arena); they were an aurally challenging but ultimately rewarding listen. I am richer for my widened musical experience. I feel the same about every new sport I see live.
The Olympics and Paralympics have provided me with a breadth of sporting memories, many surprising at the time. Slalom canoe: thrilling; weightlifting: intense; archery: mesmerising. Fencing and taekwondo: baffling but beautiful and suddenly brutal in the blink of an eye. I could go on.
The Games showcase sports with lavish production values, high stakes and big crowds at iconic venues in statement cities. Perhaps that is not the time to judge a sport’s intrinsic qualities, to rank them in a good/better/best list. Instead, how do they stand up to scrutiny in a sparsely-attended venue with a shoestring event budget?
The bulge-bracket sports do not uniformly deliver, though, even with the advantages bestowed by abundant income. Barrages of fireworks and batteries of flame-throwers can never make up for a dull contest. Indeed the expectations they raise before the off can make the reality of poor sport even more dispiriting.
Rugby and cricket are, for me, the sports with the greatest enjoyment stretch between their best and worst examples. The latter probably takes the prize given its added risk of rain or bad light halting play.
Of course, the uncertainty inherent in sport is a key part of fandom, and marks it out from other cultural forms. After all, you can read a review of a play, film, exhibition or band’s tour before buying a ticket (even if you might have to pay up in the secondary market as the price of dealing late to be sure of the quality of the product). Match reports, however, can only be written after the final whistle.
The first baseball game I ever saw was in Vancouver way back in 1982. My backpacking mate and I left at the end of the ninth inning with the contest still tied at 0-0. The mind-numbing evening hasn’t prevented me seeking out and loving visits to ballparks since.
Regular readers won’t be surprised to know that I can fillet something positive from even the dullest football matches or athletics meets. That’s probably simply a function of the depth of my knowledge of the two and the sheer quantity of my attendance at them. You will have your own equivalents.
Perhaps one’s “best sport” is decided not by how good it can be at its best, but either some measure of the gap between its best and worst, or maybe a best:worst ratio. A lot of the sports I have seen in Games mode might be worthy of high rankings on such measures, but I need to see them in less glamorous settings to judge more accurately.
The leaders of Britain’s more niche sports would love me – and you – to do just that. I can assure you that shifting tickets for their events in a media vacuum is extremely challenging.
A starting point would be the national championships for Britain’s Olympic sports, offering the opportunity to see the nation’s stars up close at knockdown prices. There’s your first Christmas present idea.
Depending on your budget, you may want to take a friend or relative to one of the annual iconic events in the sporting calendar – if you can wangle a ticket. However, you might prefer to head to one of the mega events that is rotating through to Britain next year.
The obvious ones are the European Athletics Championships in Birmingham, the ICC Women’s T20 World Cup and the Commonwealth Games. Tickets are still available for most sessions at each.
A quirky choice that might prove rewarding? All the 3×3 basketball and wheelchair basketball medal games in a single session on 29 July at Glasgow 2026.
Look beyond these and you will find other global championships. For example, the World Team Table Tennis Championships are coming to Wembley in May. Curiously, tickets are not yet on sale, so you might want to give a youngster an IOU so they can see just what they could aspire to when they next play ping pong. I can assure you, live elite table tennis is exhilarating.
If football is your thing and you would rather stick to what you know, don’t drag a youngster across county borders to see your family’s heritage Premier League team. Teach them instead the value of supporting their local lower league or non-league side.
Allow them that “second team” allegiance and remind yourself of the enjoyment that comes with a physically closer connection to the action. If you are worried that opening a digital ticket wallet won’t feel like a present, throw in a bobble hat and scarf.
They say it is better to give than to receive, but going down the ticket present route gives you the best of both worlds. Just make sure you buy one for yourself too.
I’m off to see the Boston Bruins host the St Louis Blues tonight. First time watching ice hockey for about 25 years – the London Knights in the since-demolished London Arena. Starting my New Year resolution early.
Ed Warner is chair of GB Wheelchair Rugby and writes his sport column at sportinc.substack.com