SPORTS: THE BATTLE ETERNAL

As a loyal San Franciscan, I am required to presently adulate the Golden State Warriors, as well as the Giants. Actually, worship of the Giants is a far longer tradition, dating back to at least last year, but the Warriors have currently captured our hearts. And imaginations.
And our betting frenzy.

Sorry. I just don't see it.

This blogger is NOT into sports, either as a past-time OR spectacle, and frankly I don't give a damn who wins, loses, or spins half a turn sideways.

I am not a fan of baseball, football, basketball, ice-hockey, or soccer. Nor any other kind of entertainment that involves teams or individuals hitting or pursuing a ball or other missile.

I know this is a keen source of despair to my friends and associates, but at least I'm not a disappointment my parents. To the very best of my knowledge, they too were quite uninterested in the competitiveness of glandular freaks and beer drinkers.



I do not possess any garment with a swoosh or team logo. Nothing with loud screaming colours or bold totemic designs. The closest I come is a windbreaker with a dancing rabbi on the back, courtesy of a charity that I support. But I have never actually worn it. If I did, it would only be ironically, seeing as I do not follow their precise tradition, and think that the literalness with which they go through life is flawed at best, a metaphor for the surrender of rational thought at worst.
I am not on their team.



Sports-related cultural manifestations:

Pizza: Are there anchovies? If yes, good-o.
Beer: Not a fan.
Sweat: Mmm, no.
Loud screaming: It is time to leave.
Hormones: No thanks.
Commentators wearing loud checks: Mute button? Violent termination? Hate mail campaign?
Enthusiastic chanting: Exodus 20:3, and Exodus 22:18.
Chip and dip: All mine, I found it!
Crowds: A can of Raid.

National anthem: boring song, badly sung, by people who can't sing.


Why couldn't we have a lively spirited anthem? Either a good drinking song, OR something like Marching Through Georgia? The French have a boffo anthem, so do the Italians. Ours is kind of drippy, with words that do not reflect our national spirit, gallantry, or communal bloodlust.

Heck, even the Panzer Lied would have been better.


TO THE SCRIMMAGE NOW, BOYS!

[SOURCE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9HFF9gnlY3c.]

Now that is stirring! It's got everything: bullets, vigour, and poetry!
The lyrics of cold steel and hot manly juices, yowza.
Plus it ends with lots of swearing.


If I decide to watch sports at all, it will be because of the pizza and spicy bean dip. Once those are gone, I'm outta here. Enjoy your hormones, gentlemen, it's time to go shopping.



By the way: why is everyone involved in sports stupid and ugly?




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