Chris Cooley, [Bleep Bleep], and the Great Lie
I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Chris Cooley's epic post about the meaning of life and training camp on KSK yesterday. A brief excerpt:
The one cool thing about the first month of camp is living in a dorm room. I love it when I get to leave my 2.8 million dollar house and live in a 400 square foot box, trade in the Mercedes for the bus, and curl up in my twin bed. The TV's are great too, who isn't happy when they pick up 10 total channels on a 24 inch box? Yea, I guess now people can say what a ungrateful bastard I am and how much anyone would give to play pro football, but please, whether it's a high school or NFL training camp, it's still gonna be as fun as a [bleep bleep].
So anyhow, here's how I classify sports fans: there are those who think the results of games matter to humanity. They read Extreme Skins. There are those who like to be mildly familiar with the results of games so that they can make small talk on the way to the cheese platter at the charity auction. They read Wilbon. And there are those who pay attention to sports so they have something to think about in the shower, when falling asleep, while driving to work, and during other still and silent moments when a blank mind could slip into an existential puddle of "why are we here?" muck, with fantasy football draft rankings nudging aside the gathering black clouds of doubt and despair hinting that maybe, just maybe, we should be raising emu in New Jersey instead of spending another day in front of this godforsaken computer. They read blogs.
Needless to say, I fall in that latter category. I think about sports because they're fun, sometimes. I watch sports because that means I'm not watching situation comedies. I read about sports because it's easier than reading about Afghanistan.
I like to maintain some illusion in this space that athletes are laff machines, full of droll observations and quirky habits. And people are always telling me, "Your job must be so fun!!!!!!!!" Well, whatever. Athletes are just dudes with limber limbs who can run fast. Blogging about athletes is just a job. Ten hours a day of sprinting around with technological gadgets pouring out of my clothes, computer parts trailing behind me, dumb questions falling out of my lips and a manic fear that I won't think of anything to write about. Then my boss sends me my traffic numbers, and I start thinking about emu.
But you have to pretend sports are fun, and athletes are having the time of their lives. You have to, because what else are you going to think about in the shower? Russian novels? Pulp movies? The price of gas? You're bored at work, and I'm bored in the car, and we need sports to make us smile, at least a little.
Do we third-category sports fans all know that sports are basically meaningless? That the athletes are ruining their bodies for our benefit? That they could well wind up crippled and full of regret? That they're probably miserable half the time, tired of being yelled at, tired of the constant instability, tired of prancing about the Coliseum for a whooping crowd? That, like us, they'd rather just be sitting at the beach? And that there's got to be something better to fill our minds with than the starting lineup of the 1982 Brewers?
Well, sure we do. But we cram those thoughts down into the darkest nooks, snuggled up against the knowledge that our front porch isn't going to paint itself, that our adjustable rate mortgage is gonna expire eventually, and that within a handful of decades we'll be covered with dirt.
In other words, don't look too hard, Chris. Avert your eyes, if you can. Don't puncture the illusion. We know you're right. We know that training camp is "fun as a [bleep bleep]." Just don't remind us. Smile, wave, and try to figure out which Redskin would be the toughest MMA fighter. We're depending on you.
(And to save you commenters the trouble: "If you don't like your job just quit....You have the best job in the world....No one cares if you're feeling blue....Wah wah does Dan need a bottle just like JLC....BOOOOO-RINNNNNG...." And so on. Trust me, I know how this reads, but Cooley made me do it.)
Posted by: Dan Levy | July 22, 2008 3:49 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: Anonymous | July 22, 2008 4:06 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: StetSports.com | July 22, 2008 4:06 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: littles | July 22, 2008 4:30 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: Alex | July 22, 2008 4:31 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: Llama Pastrami | July 22, 2008 4:39 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: Matt Brown | July 22, 2008 5:01 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: WaPoLiveFan16 | July 22, 2008 5:07 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: Ben | July 22, 2008 5:17 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: sitruc | July 22, 2008 7:35 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: kwamesnani | July 22, 2008 11:10 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: WorstSeat | July 22, 2008 11:14 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: Anonymous | July 23, 2008 7:36 AM | Report abuse
Posted by: Lindemann | July 23, 2008 8:31 AM | Report abuse
Posted by: Jeff V | July 23, 2008 9:01 AM | Report abuse
Posted by: SSFSCoWA | July 23, 2008 9:29 AM | Report abuse
Posted by: SSFSCoWA | July 23, 2008 9:31 AM | Report abuse
Posted by: Anonymous | July 23, 2008 10:17 AM | Report abuse
Posted by: Guess who | July 23, 2008 12:14 PM | Report abuse
Posted by: Bobhie | August 4, 2008 4:03 PM | Report abuse
The comments to this entry are closed.