But maybe we don't. Maybe the way we should understand these shows is exactly the same way we should understand sports.
Imagine tuning into Breaking Bad every week to see the progression of the narrative you've come to cherish. The writing and characters are enough to draw you in, right? Now let's add one more element to the mix: pure athleticism. Imagine Breaking Bad is now live, and Walt and Gus settle their differences with a high-flying, winner-take-all game to 21. Or a game of HORSE...with no backboards allowed. They know who's going to win, just like they did when they filmed season 4. But you don't. All they did was add basketball. Is that not better?
That's what tuning into sports should be. Think about the best season of any sport you've ever witnessed. I guarantee the players weren't better than they were in previous years or years since. The difference, always, is the narrative, and what's at stake. Consider the 2007-08 New York Giants, one of my favorite experiences as a fan. The Giants' underdog story was brilliantly written, clearly at work long before they spoiled the Patriots' quest for perfection in Super Bowl XLII. Big Blue started 0-2 with losses to their division rival Dallas Cowboys and the Green Bay Packers. In a 16-game season, that's a very deep hole. But they fought it out, winning their next six games to finish 6-2 at the midpoint of the season. Just when we thought they turned it around, they dropped their final four home games, against Dallas again, the Vikings (who intercepted Eli Manning 4 times, returning three for TDs), the Redskins (division rivals), and...the Patriots, who clinched their perfect regular season record with the win.
Luckily for New York, they paired their four home losses with four road wins, earning themselves a playoff spot and the title of "road warriors." This was, again, excellent writing: as the wild card, the Giants would have to play every one of their games on the road, so their experience in winning off their own field would carry some weight. Despite this reputation (and the fact that they came within three points of defeating New England in a meaningless game), everyone picked against them. They were not a trendy upset pick, but rather the perfect kind of underdog: one that is never given a chance despite their success at proving their doubters wrong.
Not only did they prove their doubters wrong, the NFL writing staff, power be to them, had it such that the Giants would encounter the two teams responsible for their early-season struggles, the Cowboys and Packers, along their road. And boy, did they beat them.
Final: NYG 21, DAL 17. They made a grown-ass man like Terrell Owens don sunglasses the size of planets to hide his tears.
Final/OT: NYG 23, GB 20. They proved more adaptable to historically biting cold than a team that played over half of their games in Wisconsin.
All on the way to beating a team that could not be beaten.
The story of the 2007-08 World Champion New York Giants had everything. A believable and flawed hero. A menacing and apparently unstoppable villain. A moment that changed everything. It's common in the light of this kind of season for sportscasters and sportswriters to say "you can't script an ending like this!" Except that you can. And maybe someone did.
So stand up, writing staffs of the NFL, NBA, and MLB. This column understands you, respects you, and will give you the praise (or criticism) you deserve, just as long as you give us the narratives that our sports deserve.