BOSTON — Here are three ways to watch all the fantastical sporting events — World Cup! Team USA! The NBA Finals! The Stanley Cup final! — that have been going on throughout North America this month: 1. You can sit in a darkened room, alone, as in no family, no friends, no pets. The shades are pulled all the way down lest the lights of a passing car creep in through the bottom of the window. Snacks — that is, peanut butter sandwiches on white bread, along with a box of Captain Crunch, its contents to be consumed by the handful — are placed between you and your flat screen. You don’t cheer and you don’t boo, because, well, you’d basically be talking to yourself.OR … 2) You can head to these all-the-rage 21st-century watch parties in which thousands of people stand outside and watch and cheer and, um, drink, and, OK, in a few cases, tear everything up, as happened here and there in Manhattan as the New York Knicks were taking out the San Antonio Spurs en route to their first NBA championship since 1973. I won’t insult your intelligence by suggesting the Knicks have become America’s Team, but I’m comfortable saying that a lot of people really, really fell in “like” with this year’s team. C’mon: Who’s not digging Jalen Brunson these days?OR … 3) You can climb into your favorite team jersey and head over to one of those clanky, misshapen neighborhood sports bars with lots of flat screens hovering over too small a space. The beer is cold and the patrons are hot, and not in that Sydney Sweeney/Connor Storrie kind of way. That’s hot as in everybody all packed tightly together, which is OK because everybody is one, gathered for the common goodness of putting aside all the grousing and complaining that’s been going on in the real world for too much of this century.Knicks fans celebrate a 3-pointer during the watch party outside of Madison Square Garden on Plaza 33 during Game 5 of the NBA Finals. (Brenden Willsch / Imagn Images)Admittedly, I’m cooking the books a little here. OK, a lot. It is, after all, perfectly fine to watch sports from what the Madison Avenue people like to call the comfort of your home. And you can do so while holding hands with your partner or high-fiving your old college buddy. Plus, there’s never a line to use the bathroom.But something special is happening across North America. More than ever before, we’re stepping outside to join up with other fans to partly root, root, root for the home team, but also to achieve something that’s as miraculous as what Jesus pulled off with the fishes and the loaves. The miracle is that we’re finding peace, or a piece of peace, perhaps only as a respite, but so what. (Again, I’m going to dismiss the setting-school-buses-on-fire stuff as an outlier. You know, a few bad apples in the Big Apple, and so on.)When the Boston Red Sox were playing the Texas Rangers in a nationally televised game Sunday night at Fenway Park, the packed house included thousands of Scottish fans in town for the World Cup. Fresh off Scotland’s 1-0 victory over Haiti on Saturday night at “Boston Stadium,” the Tartan Army showed up at Boston Ballpark (Fenway) on Sunday night not just to watch big-league baseball, but also to sing their songs, cheer their cheers and more or less hug everybody in sight. The Tartan Army marches to Fenway Park on Sunday in full kilt-and-bagpipe regalia. (Bob Dechiara / Imagn Images)Something along those lines has been happening at all the sports bars. If this is where you want to jump in and point out that that’s been going on for years, I say: No doubt about that. But I also say: It’s never been like this before.Now I’m no expert. But Garvey Salomon, 47, the manager of Parlor Sports, a hole-in-the-wall on Beacon Street in Somerville, Mass., absolutely is an expert.