There are two misunderstandings that I think may not be exclusive to the McCann house, and they have everything to do with sports and fish. Dianne, my wife, grew up not watching sports and I grew up not eating fish. She doesn’t understand sports and I don’t understand fish.

I get that fish has health benefits, including lean protein; Omega-3 fatty acids; iodine; vitamins A, B, D and E; calcium; zinc; phosphorus; magnesium; iron; copper; and potassium. I also get that it can lower blood pressure and help reduce the risk of a heart attack or stroke — all important.

But it also comes with a high price. The taste is questionable, the smell can linger like a Cubs defeat and a bad piece of fish can knock a healthy man down for days.

The upside to sports is it provides physical exercise (good for the heart), interaction, entertainment, social involvement (good for the mind) and emotional support (good for Cubs fans). It too carries a price of time, commitment and potential injury.

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There are many varieties of sports, as there are with fish, and just because fishing is accepted as a sport and is sometimes televised doesn’t make it any better. Truth be told, fish — and all their water-related relatives — have been infiltrating sports for years.

Consider some of the nicknames — the Miami Dolphins, Tampa Bay Rays, Florida Marlins, San Jose Sharks, Seattle Kraken, Hartford Whalers, Jupiter Hammerheads and Idaho Steelheads. They give people who pull for the home team little choice but to cheer for fish — yes, some of those are mammals and another is a mythical sea monster, but you get the point.

The fish movement has changed names. Yankee hurler Jim Hunter became Jim “Catfish” Hunter. Knicks guard Earl Monroe turned into Earl “The Pearl” Monroe. Golfer Greg Norman is still called “The Great White Shark” and football coach Bill Parcells is known as “The Big Tuna.” Baseball star Mike Trout is, well, Mike Trout.

Hockey fans in Detroit have been throwing octopus on the ice during Red Wings games for more than 70 years. When the home team scores its first goal at the University of New Hampshire, the fans throw fish.

Fish have found their way into pop culture, as well. In the movies, when a mobster is knocked off, they “swim with the fishes.” In music, Brad Paisley sings “I’m gonna miss her” as he chooses fishing over his girlfriend. When it comes to lingo, people who stop talking “clam up.” Those who are fooled “take the bait” and a column (like this one) is a “fish story.”

Even without feet, fish have their own footing in mainstream sports. They counter the traditional Boston and New York marathons with their annual salmon run — and they have their own television network called the Salmon Cam that broadcasts their brushes with hungry bears all summer long.

Perhaps my lifelong disinterest in fish developed as a young boy raised on meat and potatoes until one night when our parents tried to introduce Alaskan salmon that a friend had dropped off to the house.

Our mom cooked it, served it and our full table of McCann kids sat and stared at it.

“What is this?” we asked.

“It’s salmon,” mom said.

“What do we do with it? Why is it orange?”

“We eat it. It’s delicious. It won’t kill you to try something new,” she said.

I wasn’t so sure and risking my life was a gamble I wasn’t willing to take. I’m pretty sure I went hungry that night (which I probably deserved).

As a 10-year-old, watching “Jaws” at the movies didn’t help my affection for fish either.

It’s almost as if fish had no chance with me, except for an occasional shrimp cocktail, and it may also explain why I cringe when it’s cooked in the kitchen or when the kids open a can of tuna — and I can always tell when they do, no matter where I am in the house.

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I sometimes wonder if sports had any chance with Dianne. To her credit, she will at least try it on occasion, and she does ask provoking questions like, “Why don’t the Cubs get better players? Why do the last two minutes of an NBA game last a half hour? Why do you cheer for whoever is playing the Utes?” (Forgive her, she went to Utah State.)

Admittedly, there are so many things more important than sports — and so many better things to eat than fish. But let’s be real, this impasse is not likely to roll over any time soon. My love for sports is going to keep getting her eyerolls and her love for fish is going to keep us buying sushi rolls.

Such is life. I might not choose fish, but I chose her. She isn’t into sports, but she chose me. Together, we are on the hook for both and considering “there are other fish in the sea,” it’s in my best interest to keep it that way.

So, please inform the waiter, Dianne will have salmon and I’ll have a cheeseburger. But can we get it to go? The Cubs game is about to start!

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