Sunday, February 7, 2010

The Super Bowl: America's Annual OJ Trial

Here it is, the game of the year; the most expensive airtime anyone can hope to purchase in the hopes that someone will buy some damn Doritos and Bud Light. I myself am not a football fan. I don't have the patience to sit for 6 hours and watch the same episode with different players over and over. The game never ends, really. One team has the ball, the other one doesn't. A coach somewhere is pissed off and some other guys are constantly telling you what's happening, even though you're watching. The best part of all is, no matter where you are, who you are, or where you're from, you're stupid for liking the team that you do.

This is an individual's way to somehow claim some kind of specialism over another by simply liking a certain team for whatever reason they wish; usually because that specific team plays in a stadium located in said individual's home town (not quite the smartest reason. Yeah, I'm talking to you, Panther fans). All I ever hear is "our team" this and "our team" that. What do you really have to do with this team you claim to be a part of? Do you even personally know and possibly give hand jobs to any professional athletes? I don't know anyone who's even an associate to a pro athlete, so I cringe at the whole "we won" philosophy. Let me just sum up this part of my thought by saying: If you think that's your team, show me a check made out to you from someone in the NFL or shut the hell up.

What I don't understand is how this possessive attitude can not only make a Pittsburgh fan bite your face in that movie, but it disappoints people with no real affiliation. In this [The Super Bowl's] case, Colts fans (The Saints won tonight. In your face, Payton Manning). Either way, for some reason, you're required to pick a side. It's like a war, where prejudice is issued to you by your friends and family. You're not allowed to just enjoy a game and commend the team on their good plays. You're almost always obligated to hate it when the team that you don't favor makes a good play. If this was food, no one would ever eat Hardees again and everyone would be held at gunpoint to eat a Mega Mac.

It's just one of those things in this life I just don't get. Nothing people on a field throwing a ball around that I don't know could make me happy or sad. It makes almost as much sense as the way people appoint food and drinks a gender because it has certain colors or tastes. I'll be damned if I'm gonna lose my man card somehow because I like those little pink snowballs.

After everything is said and done, it reminds me of the OJ trial. All over America, you're going to have a big group of people that are happy with the results, while another big group of people are not only distraught, but probably lost a good chunk of money because the stats said, "go ahead, use your kids college fund, you'll be able to put more in after you win this bet.......oh, and kill your parents." After the game is over, people show up at work the next day to gloat or say, "shut up, dude".

If you ask me........I'd rather just have a snowball..........

Not that kind of snowball, pervert.

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