Category Archives: Sport

First The Packers’ Fan, Then The Pickup Line

Crime, Nationhood, Politics, Sport

So I’m out power walking up the hill, in the gentle precipitation characteristic of the sublime Pacific Northwest. (I have yet to resume running since knee pain struck in October.) Ahead of me a man walks his dog. Both look forlorn.

I’m powering ahead, trying to decompress because of a laundry list of stressors, of which the least pressing are Pete Carroll, Russell Wilson and “Beast Mode”:

Well, at least we have a better Chris Matthews to help supress the bile that rises whenever the wide receiver’s namesake on MSNBC makes an appearance. (The other, lesser Chris Matthews is host of “Hardball,” an apropos name, given Chris’s well-known carnal affections for Barack Obama. The man spent the first two years of the Obama presidency in a state of sexual delirium. The crappy, MSNBC Chris is famous for fessing up to experiencing something akin to a (daytime) nocturnal emission during Obama’s coronation—”thrill up the leg,” Matthews called the accident.)

I pass the gloomy dog and his owner. The latter asks me how I’m doing. I reply: “Seahawks sad.” The guy says, “Oh, I’m a Packer’s fan, so I’m doing OK.” By Wikipedia’s telling, “The Green Bay Packers are the last vestige of small town teams common in the NFL during the 1920s and 1930s.” The team members look good. I might switch allegiances.

So far I’ve rooted for my home team, the Hawks. Why? It occurred to me that the football fetish in the US has arisen in the context of a country whose inhabitants share very little other than The Game. The host country’s history and founding documents have been turned into a liability by its educrats. The language has been dumbed down and demoted as the number of non-English-speakers clamoring for official recognition for their respective tongues rises. And the faith that once united those who fought to establish the republic has been banished from the public square and confined to the shopping mall, where adherents shop for God until they drop.

As I neared the end of my walking route, a car that had driven past a few time stopped. I imagined the occupant needed directions and sidled up to his vehicle. I’m wearing a thin anorak and a Jews-for-the-Preservation-of-Firearms-Ownership cap.

A young man looks me over and asks, “Want a ride, honey?” Really? In a family friendly neighborhood, in perfectly pleasant weather? I’ve seem “them” grisly cases on Investigation Discovery—a big favorite, bar “The Americans” and “The Fall” (first season, especially)—where women get shoved into cars by crazies.

First the Packers’ fan; then the pickup line. Perhaps I should pack a pistol next time I go for a walk in the neighborhood?

Shaming Sherman? Are You Kidding Me?

Feminism, Gender, Political Correctness, Sport

Men have been shamed into partaking in the pregnancy production: “We are pregnant.” “We are having a baby.” “I can’t close on that million-dollar deal now; “we’re due today,” they all chant obediently.

“And I can’t play the Super Bowel if my girlfriend gives birth on the day” is what Richard Sherman, the Seattle Seahawks’ cornerback, is expected to announce. Yes, with 30 million or more on the line, the man is expected to drop the ball and rush to the delivery room if his girlfriend drops a baby on Sunday.

Excuse me while a puke.

Coach Pete Carroll, who will have a baby himself if Sherman deserts the field, is too afraid to say anything insensitive lest some Enforcer gets on his case and he is forced to resign.

Sherman is one of the best players expected to play in Super Bowl XLIX. His ability to virtually shut down an entire side of the field causes major game-planning obstacles for opponents. That’s especially true for a team like the New England Patriots, which relies heavily on the passing game to move the ball.

(Bleacher Report.)

You and I know that Sherman, 26—who, I dare I say? will have many more girlfriends in the future—wants to PLAY come Sunday, no matter what.

Anyhow, the New England Patriots are going DOWN.

In the battle with the Boston Brahmins of the Northeast; the team furthest away from Rome must win Super Bowl XLIX. How else can I get worked up, if I don’t cast this weird game as a battle between those close to Rome and those far away from it?

Go Seahawks. Go Sherman!

‘Ow My Balls!’

America, Critique, Hollywood, Pop-Culture, Pseudo-intellectualism, Sport

The satire “Idiocracy” predicted that in 2505, the age of the idiot, America would be enthralled by one of two seconds-long “films.” The first is “Ow my Balls!”

The Age of the Idiot, however, is already upon us. Witness the endless, empty, obsessive yakking about deflated footballs. For heaven’s sake, order a rematch between the alleged offenders, the New England Patriots, and the Indianapolis Colts. Check and store the balls before every future match. Case closed. There is good reason for calling “Idiocracy” a documentary—except that The Age of the Idiot is upon us:

To fully appreciate what afflicts America—the people, the presidency, the academy, the media, Hollywood—watch “Idiocracy.” The film is a product of Mike Judge’s genius (Beavis and Butthead, anyone?), and was backed and then spiked by the idiots at 20th Century Fox. It is easily one of the smartest and darkest satires.
Luke Wilson plays Joe Bowers, frozen by the military in 2005, “who accidentally wakes up in 2505 to find a broken-down, thuggish America where language has become a patois of football chants, hip-hop slang and grunts denoting rage, pleasure and priapic longing, where citizens are obese, violent, ever-horny and narcotised by consumerism,” to quote the Guardian.
The “dumb-ass dystopia” depicted in “Idiocracy” has evolved because the robust retarded have out-bred the intelligent (yes, Judge openly references IQ as a measure of intelligence). Consequently, nothing gets fixed. There are garbage avalanches. A Gatorade-like drink has replaced water for irrigation, so nothing grows. The most watched show on the “Violence Channel” is “Ow, My Balls!” The “highest grossing movie of all time is called ‘Ass,’ and consists of 90 minutes of the same naked, hairy butt on screen.” All enterprises are sexualized; Starbucks offers a “full body latte.” Costco is an Ivy-League law school. If you’ve watched Ann Coulter trying to explain to Bill O’Reilly what a syllogism is, you’ll appreciate “Idiocracy” for the cultural barometer it is.

From “2 Movie Gems Amid A Lot Of Hollywood Hooey.” (July 2007)

There’s Always A Way To Blame Honky

Ann Coulter, Crime, Justice, Race, Racism, Sport

To paraphrase the old nursery rhyme, When she’s good she’s very very good. (But when she’s bad, she’s horrid!.) Ann Coulter on the chain of blame at the NFL:

… once the MSM figured out how to blame a white guy for a black athlete punching his fiancee … the only news was about Ray Rice and – the true villain – NFL Commissioner Roger Goddell …

There’s always a way to blame honky.