Happy Labor Day everyone! Or, if you live in Canada, happy Labour Day everyone! Also, chill out about hockey, no pun intended (but then it was when I realized what I’d inadvertently done). I mean, it’s fun to play and watch, but c’mon buddy, there’s no need to go that crazy over a bunch of sweaty guys in pads and helmets ramming into each other as they try to advance their team to victory. In unrelated news, football’s back mutha fucka! Yeah yeah! Time to go crazy over a bunch of sweaty guys in pads and helmets ramming into each other as they try to advance their team to victory! I love it so much, I’m blind to my own hypocrisy! I’m aware it’s a game and often one that is blown way out of proportion, especially in my home state of Ohio, but I don’t care! I love it! Let’s defend that championship, Buckeyes!
Sports are a terrific source of entertainment and a great distraction from the problems of everyday life for most of us. They give us a reason to unite with friends, family, and mostly total strangers. They serve as an icebreaker when you see someone sporting the gear of your favorite team (I was fully aware of that pun). They generate lots of money for the team and stadium owners and not as much for the cities they reside in – uh, actually, I probably don’t want to get into that, and I’m not even touching the pay-the-players discussion of college athletes. What I will say is that sports are better and more fun than almost everything else on at getting us together to eat, drink, and be merry. What else are you going to do this time of year? Go to the fair? I went to the fair for the first time a few years ago. I always wondered why it’s called the “fair”, but now I understand that that’s an accurate assessment of the level of entertainment one can expect from going to the fair. There’s a reason they don’t called it the “County Excellent”. I mean, sure, you can get crazy food like the “world famous big ol’ deep-fried pickle” at a fair and be encouraged to “bite it like you mean it” by the sign underneath the pickle picture at the shack it’s sold at – a sign which we all know is superfluous, as I have made my intentions clear by virtue of purchasing the world famous big ol’ deep-fried pickle. There is no way to half-ass your way through the consumption of such a foodstuff; you’re going all-in when you place an order for that. Nevertheless, you can find vegetables coated in at least four layers of beer batter with ranch dipping sauce at stadiums across the Midwest and South.
I’m guessing you don’t see a lot of fantasy drafts going on in the hoofstock and poultry barns either. No one debates over whether to grab the Holstein-Friesian or Pinzgauer this round and hold out on the other and hope it’s still available next round. Of course, if you find a Belted Galloway whose name is “Joey”, you’ve got to take him. No one else can moo-ve like him (these are all cattle breeds).
Seeing as nothing beats the fun of football and it fellow games, the food is comparably concocted to other places with a deep fryer, and the fantasy fandom just doesn’t match up anywhere else, you’ve got to go with sports as the go-to source of sideline entertainment throughout the year, and it will remain as such as long as Queen and Gary Glitter blare rock and roll accompaniment. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a game to catch.
Thanks for reading! Remember that if you have any subject or story you want me to ramble about, or if you just want to say hi, then write me at firstname.lastname@example.org. Also remember that no matter how much you love your sport and your team to not make it’s victories or defeats anyone else’s problem by getting riled up over a game.