"There's nothing less interesting to me than watching a bunch of grown men chase a damn ball around."
-paraphrased from Northern Exposure episode 5/6 "Birds of a Feather"
I received my varsity high school letter as a freshman. Do I sound like jock material? Fuck you. Sports is one of the hugest vacuums of human intelligence upon the face of the earth, second perhaps only to massive birth defects. I am repulsed by the thought of the average American male swilling beer as he whoops at Monday Night Football. I can't understand the appeal. It's as if I've grown up amongst the fucking pod people from Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
Professional sports are entirely useless. I can't help but wonder how much more productive our society might be if all that collective brain space dedicated to meaningless sports statistics were to be freed up.
Admittedly, a lot of the crap that floats my boat could be deemed equally worthless by my barbarian counterparts. But I don't think there's a single industry which involves as much unearned salary as professional sports. These goddam chariot racers get paid millions to throw a fucking ball and pat each other on the fanny. I may have a bone to pick with high-ranking corporate pigs, but at least buying and selling imaginary pieces of ass on Wall Street requires some degree of intelligence by virtue of the sheer mathematics involved. I can't fucking stand it. If I actually bought into the American lie, I might derive some thrill from the fact that a guy I went to school with for several years (I won't feed his ego by even mentioning his name) is now in the NBA. But I don't. He was just one of several pricks who taunted me throughout grade school, and now that asshole is a millionaire. What the fuck am I supposed to do, make him my hero?! So fuck you and your sports! I realize I will probably annoy even more people with this rant than I typically infuriate with my spiteful atheistic rhetoric.
I welcome your outrage. Sure, when I was younger I played basketball and engaged in some other mindless activities in an attempt to beef up my lanky physique. But I've never been a team player, and I just can't muster any appreciation for this facet of our society which strikes me as nothing more than an expensive variation of animal husbandry. You think I'm crazy? Fine. Just be sure to stock up on plenty of Kleenex for your next Super Bowl wankathon, bucko.