I still have a lot of growing up to do, but when it comes to lessons I’ve learned, one sticks out like a sore thumb: sports don’t matter.

I’m not talking about playing sports — many an athlete has escaped poverty or less-than-ideal home situations via sports. I commend those people. But that is not the perspective I am referencing.

I’m talking about you and I, the fans.

You see, the more I’ve grown and learned — especially over the last two years — the more taken aback I have become when I see vicious attacks on social media over a sports game. I’ve become confused when people continue to debate Jordan and LeBron. I’ve become irritated when I see arguments over whether or not this year’s Warriors team is better than the ‘96 Bulls.

Why? Because there is no point.

No argument you get into over sports will ever matter, nor make any difference in the other party’s mind, nor anyone else’s. It’s futile. A fruitless endeavor.

But it isn’t just arguments about sports that don’t matter. To us fans, sports themselves don’t matter.

Russell Westbrook can continue to thrash opponents for triple-doubles. Steph Curry can (and will) cement his legacy as the greatest three-point shooter of all-time. But why does it matter? No matter how many absurd triples Curry hits, we are forced to live our lives as normal. We will still go to work and school the next morning. We still have to wash the dishes and do laundry.

I remember vividly the summer of 2013. That was the year the San Antonio Spurs were 28 seconds away from a championship, before the Miami Heat’s Ray Allen nailed a corner three in Game 6 of The Finals to help his team escape with a win. Since I used to live in San Antonio, and I’ve spent a large part of my life growing up watching the players, I was heartbroken. I probably shed a tear or two or three.

That’s not to say I’m wrong for being sentimental about sports. I still am. The difference now, as I’ve aged and matured, is that I realize that I don’t have to be distraught when my teams lose. I can cultivate vibrant relationships with people I know and who I can be around on a daily basis, rather than depending on a group of 30-year-olds (the jokes about how old the Spurs are can stop any day now, by the way) for my happiness.

So stop the sports arguments — no one wins them. Stop the crying over sports — you have a life to live. It’s perfectly fine to form blossoming relationships around sports and to let them become a source of good times, but the world needs more people who realize when things matter, and when they don’t.

Sports are the latter.