The Washington Post - Outlook Section - October 10, 1993

Men's answer to PMS becomes obvious to me every fall, when a Redskins defeat sends my husband into a dark and terrible funk. I call it SLS, Sports Loss Syndrome, characterized by surliness, a wounded expression and the inability to experience any real joy until the Redskins finally win. Like its female counterpart, SLS results from a hormonal imbalance (in men's case, trapped testosterone) that prompts cyclic bouts of irrational moodiness. While men may suffer form this disorder throughout the year-during basketball or baseball season, for example-the ailments is typically worst during that period in which the Most Favored Team plays. In our house, that's Redskins' football, and it happened again last Monday night.

This season's first serious SLS attack occurred after the September loss to the Eagles. That afternoon, I could tell a severe case of SLS was brewing by the way my husband and son screamed through the entire fourth quarter, particularly my husband's anguished shouts of "God bless it!" (His expletives have changed dramatically since we've had children.)

Even my 5-year-old daughter can recognize SLS's symptoms: dejected countenance, gloomy affect, air of undeserved pain and suffering.

"I know why Daddy's grumpy," she announced at dinner that night. "Because the Redskins lost."

"But it was a good game," asserted Max, our 8-year-old, looking to his dad for clues on the appropriate male response to sports loss.

"Yeah," my husband acknowledged wearily. "At least they didn't get creamed."

Max affected a suitably glum face, but smiled a few moments later when the conversation changed-which substantiates my theory that SLS, like PMS, is hormonally based. Until adolescence, when his testosterone levels rise, Max will not have sufficient male hormones to experience full-blown SLS. In adult males, testosterone levels surge in reaction to a sports event, to supply sufficient energy for end zone dancing, rump-smacking, high-fiving, chug-a-lugging and other victorious behaviors. When thwarted by defeat, however, this excess testosterone remains trapped in the body resulting in the emotional outbursts, irritability and testiness characteristic of SLS victims.

But it's unlikely that I'll ever get funding to scientifically prove this hypothesis. Men, being male, aren't likely to form SLS support groups or even admit that they have a problem, other than the humiliation of being razzed by fans of rival teams. And, indeed, SLS is not so much a problem for the victim as for those who must live with him. So now, after nearly 20 years of marriage to a sportsaholic, I've formulated the following guidelines to help family members survive an SLS attack:

• Never discuss anything important. A true form of misery, SLS loves company and victims will respond in the manner most likely to make you miserable, too.
• Be aware that food and other sensory stimulants may temporarily divert a man with SLS, but will never completely cure him.
• Be sympathetic, but never fake SLS. If sufferers act like someone dear died, it's appropriate to behave as if you were attending the funeral. But unless you're a True Fan, don't presume to grieve as if it was your beloved, too. Draw the SLS victim's attention to his ailment gently, with the same sensitivity you'd like him to use when pointing out that the reason you're weeping over a burnt-out light bulb is probably PMS.
• Steer clear of each other if SLS and PMS attacks ever coincide, since both afflictions can result in a temporary loss of sense of humor. If you must be in the same room, keep conversation to a minimum and avoid eye contact. Count on time to restore your hormonal balance, and a better game next Sunday to revive his.