SPORTS-(PIRATES)
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The other night, I asked myself: Self, how do you entertain 100,000 morons, each with no life
and a hollow job? Simple, Hockey playoffs and a parade.
It is generally considered a universal truth that baseball in all its glory, is flat out boring.
Rarely does one actually watch or listen to EVERY single baseball game that is played, in its
entirety.
With 162 games and an average of 3.5 hrs each, that works out to 567 hours of your life. If you're
lucky(?) enough to be the fan of a playoff team, you can waste up to an extra
66 hours of watching the postseason bingo matches. Add in about 30 hours more if
you're attracted to the inane ramblings of Bob Costas.
Time
better spent taking a crap, reading Reader's Digest, doing the dishes, or even
jerking off to nude pictures of Weezie from the Jefersons. Still, comitting over 500+
hours to the sport over a period of six months can be exhausting. Nobody will ever
watch all 162 games...unless they're stuck in an old age home, with tubes sticking out
of their ass. But even then, their thoughts will wander from the game and
focus on important shit like "Where's my bedpan?", "I like carrots" or
"My gawd, I have trouble aiming it at the toilet".
Then there's the hockey playoffs. 120 hours of endless drivel... over a period of only
five weeks.
As you enter this pinnacle of awesome-ness, you have those 120 hours of watching
every shitty playoff game. (That's about three entire work weeks).
You can stand there and tell me how tough and grueling it is...
well, taking a crap can be tough and grueling, and you don't see THAT getting 120 hours
of TV coverage. You get to spend these 120 hours at a bar. There, you get to
bellow loudly and act like .....well, a jackass with no life who spends 120 hours at a bar over
five weeks. You may also kill more time (and braincells) by "scouting the opposition".
That's not counting overtime games. You can tack on an additional 10 hours for that.
And there's nothing more exciting than watching a buncha little dudes on skates,
zig zagging over the ice until 1 am. For instance, remember that time the Super Bowl
ended in a 3-3 tie? And hey, if watching little dudes skate around is your idea of fun,
well, I'll let you know the next time Scotty Hamilton's ICE WARS come to town.
If you're lucky, your team will then be treated to an additional
3.5 hours of a public parade, tear gas and pompory. At this venture, you will
then be entertained by packing into your town's civic center, with
999,999 of your cloest friends. Most of whom are unemployed Mexicans
or fat broads with three kids and a stroller. To add to the special atmosphere,
you will also be subjected to an amazing audio/visual spectacle. This may or may not
include "VIDEO HIGHLIGHTS ON A BIG SCREEN TV". However, it's almost guaranteed
to include a set of speakers, hanging form a crane. Said speakers will then
enterain you to the likes of "Rock and Roll Part 2", "You Shook Me all
Night Long", "Bawitdaba" and Any Shitty Song By Korn. As a special bonus, you may
luck out and actually hear Tom Petty's rocking rendition of "I Won't Back Down".
All are defintely crowd favorites and will no doubt fill you with pride, and the
satisfaction that your team has "kicked ass baby! Wooooo!"."
Only redeeming quality would be the obligatory parade of grown men in goofy shirts and mullets, on fire trucks.
Now, when I was a wee lad in Elizabeth, Pennsylvania, the biggest event of the fall was
the Halloween Parade. Every year, around 7 pm, the town would close down and everybody
who had a costume would be invited to walk in the parade. This mass of stupidity was
flanked on both ends by the town's two firetrucks (or four, if they got the guys from Blaine
Hill to show up). Random "winners" were then allowed to ride on top of the firetrucks...no doubt
a highlight of anyone's life: Riding a firetruck in a Fred Flintstone costume. Now, if
some idiotic hockey players wanna put on their pajamas , spruce up their mullet, and ride a firetruck through
downtown Denver.... well, fuck, I'll show up for that. Your local
radio crew may even provide play-by-play on this event. "The red firetruck passes
over the turn lane, past three pedestrains, a cop on a motorcycle, to the red light, he brakes
and TURRRRNNNNNNNNNSSSS!!!! What a TURN!! That's the third turn executed by this
firetruck, today!!!
Which brings us to today. Its no secret that I absolutely hate hockey. This little "event"
today only cofirms it. Hockey is there to appeal to the ignorant, loud, cell-phone carrying,
5 dollar beer buying, SUV driving, obnxoious, time-wasting, dipshit buffoons. For Americans to say they
love and appreciate hockey, that's like an Eskimo saying he loves drinking pink lemonade and
eating Swanson Pot Pies. My mom said it best, yesterday: "Kids get scholarships to go to college and play football...
they don't go to play hockey". (don't get technical on me) A sport's REALLY gotta suck to have
my MOM start bashing it. She then elaborated that this is NOT like the Broncos' two
Super Bowl wins... it's apples and oranges. The town hasn't been ridiculed
because of its hockey team and there's not that inbred connection with the
fans and the team. Ma...yer a fricking genius. I added to this by asking her:
"Hey Ma, remember when that high school had a big homecoming event, capped off by that
big hockey game?? Oh, that's right...it NEVER happened".
At least baseball fans aren't out at bars four nights a week, wearing pom-poms under their hats, with
oversized jerseys resembling pajamas. And when someone hits a homerun,
they don't jump and go "woooo!! yeah baby!!! TEAM NAME!! TEAM NAME!!" , followed by the
Buggs Bunny dance. Upon further review, football fans will engage in such sophmoric
behavior. But it's only once a week....most have a life.
Hockey's there for the easily amused freaks who want a quick
rush and have the attention span of a gerbil. They like hockey because someone told them to, or
because all the braindead losers at the bar like it. Somewhere, the media's brain washed them into
believing that this ice skating crap is IMPORTANT.
For the record, the local Denver professional hockey team accquired the
Big Ass Trophy That Hockey Gives Away Ever Year (or BATTHGAEY). I saw news footage of
them skating around their little rink after they had just won their 143rd playoff game
of the year... it looked like a reunion of the "Quest for Fire" movie. All
the long haired, filthy, teeth-missing, ratty beard wearing mongoloids! I went to
their little parade with some co-workers, to see firetrucks, and because it was three blocks from
the office. We arrive and pack ourselves into a mob by the City and County Building. After
fifteen minutes of getting groped by shirtless Mexicans and listening to
crappy music...I realize this is about as exciting as being on a bus, and leave.
I missed the firetruck parade, entirely... so where's the appeal in waiting in a mob to
get all hot and miserable, and see maybe 25% (a tree obstructed the view)of some little ceremony for a team I could
care less about? Suddenly, hanging out back at the office seemed downright SANE.
To paraphrase a sweaty t-shirt I saw: I have no life... but at least I don't have a HOCKEY life.
One more parting shot: Now that he's out "partying" over the victory, does this mean Peter Forsberg
can get his liver removed, to go along with the spleen? I'm sure he's already got the hole, they'll
just have to widen it a little more. Drink up, chico!
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