So the other day I nonchalantly tweeted a link to a "Save BBC4" petition. Why? Because what with the licence- fee freeze, BBC4's range of exemplary programming is under threat, which is bad news for anyone who enjoys television, and even worse news for people who make TV shows for BBC4, eg myself, host of Newswipe. Tragically, there wasn't room to mention that particular vested interest in the tweet.

Selfishness aside, BBC4 has also given birth to shows such as The Thick of It and Lead Balloon and Getting On and Fantabulosa! and Women in Love and The Long Walk to Finchley and The Road to Coronation Street and so on and so on, so even if you're sufficiently well-adjusted to despise the stench of me wafting from your screen, there's enough decent stuff to get upset about too. And beyond that, if the channel were to be knocked off air completely, the nation would lose what is in effect an irreplaceable on-air National Museum of Television that has showcased repeats of everything from Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy to Top of the Pops. Oh, and it also screens foreign stuff such as The Killing, Spiral and the original Wallander.

What I'm saying is this: anyone who doesn't love BBC4 is a heartless monster. And as fate would have it, I heard from just such a monster within seconds of tweeting the link to the petition.

"I'd rather have F1 than BBC4," replied a disgruntled citizen.

"Why?," I responded. "Fuck F1. Save BBC4."

Turns out this isn't a constructive way of encouraging people to support your high-minded artsy poncey Guardian-reading cause. I was immediately plunged into a fevered dialogue with other F1 fanatics. Obviously I dealt with their objections in a mature and even-handed manner.

"How many races have you actually watched?" asked one.

"Impossible to tell," I replied. "They're all identical footage of cars driving round and round."

"A lot of hard work goes into F1," argued another fan. "It's an engineering marvel."

"Still not as much fun as clown cars," I pointed out. Even the biggest F1 fan in the world has to admit this is true.

After a bit more arguing, I dealt what I felt was the killer blow. "Everyone knows they stole the idea for F1 from Scalextric anyway," I wrote. And I stand by those words. But for some mad reason it only seemed to inflame the argument.

Eventually someone sounded a voice of reason. "I like both F1 AND BBC4. Why can't we just have both?" they pleaded. And maybe we can. Maybe BBC4 could take over the F1 coverage. If they dub a bit of Gil Scott- Heron over the top and cut to Paul Morley during the pit stops, it'd fit right in.

Anyway, the whole disagreement reminded me how furiously defensive sports fans become when you attack their favoured pursuit, as though they've invested half their personal self-worth into it. Was our relationship with sport always like this? Back in the 1930s, when men with handlebar moustaches played football in long johns and tails, and the ball was a spherical clod of bitumen, did fans weep in the stands when their team lost? No. They limited their responses to a muttered "blast" or a muted "hurrah" before going home to smoke a pipe and lean on the mantelpiece. People had "hobbies" and "interests" and no one claimed to have "a passion" for anything.

Now you're not allowed to "like" anything. Instead you're encouraged to develop those "passions". And nowhere is this encouraged more than in the world of sports worship.

I'm jealous, really. I wish I felt that strongly about something other than my own narrow, selfish field of survival. But I just can't. I can't imagine painting my face in a team colour and roaring with delight as a multi-millionaire kicks a ball at a net. I can't imagine voluntarily standing beside an F1 track in the rain, watching motorised wedges plastered in corporate decals zooming past at 500mph. I can't enjoy these things, and given the amount of joy they do bring people, it must be a failing of mine, not the sports involved. Part of my soul must be missing.

Maybe I could plug the gap by forcing myself to get into a sport of some kind. Oh, and obviously it'll have to be something that's televised. I'm not physically moving further than my sofa.

Football is out, for reasons I've detailed at length in other columns. Cricket? I've tried cricket. Nothing happens in cricket, ever. Even the highlights resemble a freeze frame. The live coverage is unwatchable. It's like staring at the Hay Wain while Professor Yaffle slowly reads a list of equations aloud.

Rugby is the other end of the scale. That's just incoherent; way too chaotic to follow – half the time the action resembles some kind of scrum. And the ball doesn't even bounce properly. Also: are they supposed to be fighting each other or not? Literally no one involved seems to know.

Athletics? No. Just no.

Darts. Now that is a sport that really works on TV. Also, from a nerd's perspective, it's got way better since widescreen broadcasts became the norm, because the split-screen setup works better in 16:9. The drama of the human face on one half, the hard reality of the dispassionate dartboard on the other. Whenever I stumble across a darts match on TV, I have to watch to the end. So I'm definitely interested. All I have to do now is develop that interest into a full-blown passion. Something I'd kill for. But how? I'll work on it, and let you know.

Oh, and BBC4? The other week it broadcast a superb documentary about the history of F1. So we can have both. There's hope yet for humankind.