Friday, 16 November 2012

All sports, all the time.

I don't watch TV.

I don't even own a TV, because I could never get a chance to watch it when I was growing up, and for that reason I never got into it. My father dominated the TV through my youth, and still does so, rotting in his armchair, stuffing his face full of crisps and nuts and other shit he doesn't need, edging closer towards clinical obesity.

And it's all sports, all the time.

Because sports fucking matters.

It really, truly matters which team wins this time. Even though they will be playing against each other again in a few months, and then a few months after that, ad infinitum. This time it matters. And next time, too.

Football is shit. Soccer, American, Aussie Rules; I don't give a fuck. It's all total shit. Totally vapid, predictable, brainless, boring. A bunch of dicks kicking a piece of rubber around a field, and the occasional homoerotic group hug. The only thing I can think of that is worse than playing it is sitting there watching it.

Just look at yourself. You have endless admiration for the players (you spend your entire waking life staring at them, after all). They possess all the intelligence and sophistication of your typical cro-magnon, but I will concede that these so-called Sports Men are in good physical shape. You live vicariously through these athletic heroes while you sit there immobile for sixteen hours a day, your own strength and vitality draining away.

If you watch football, fuck you. You are not someone I will ever choose to associate with.

I cannot think of a worse way to waste your life than on this shit. Fans and pundits make it out like it's all some kind of epic struggle for supremacy. But there's no beginning, no middle, no end, no resolution, no final victory. It's no different than endlessly flipping a coin and cheering for heads, screaming in rage when it flips tails. And then you flip it again, and again, and again, and do the same thing. It's just like that, but on a bigger scale.


It's not just football. It's all sports, but football has the lion's share of my spite because of the neanderthals who play it and the neanderthals who celebrate them, lionising the degenerate, turning these pinheads not fit to sweep my street into folk legends. They spit and swear like common thugs, but holy shit, they can kick a ball, so let's make them multi-millionaires and exalt them as the best our nation has to offer.

Knowing how to kick a ball is not a 'skill.' Knowing how to kick a ball better than most other guys who kick balls just means you wasted more of your life learning how to kick a ball than they did.

Oh, and fuck you.

I went back home this weekend. As always, my father sits glued to the TV. What would he do without it? Probably suffer a mental breakdown. It's gorgeously hot outside; he sits in the dark, watching football or some other shitty inconsequential game played between a bunch of ignorant, overpaid assholes. My mother makes some lame joke about how he's going to enjoy the weather this summer. He makes some equally lame retort about taking the TV outside with him.

Yeah, or maybe you could get off your fat fucking ass and do something with your life.

Does nobody read books any more? Too hard, I guess. All those big words and no moving pictures to keep you entertained. Your rapidly shrinking pre-frontal cortex wouldn't be able to cope.

The TV remained on while we sat at the table for dinner (a disgraceful faux pas in my book). I managed to catch some of what was happening on one of the nonsense sports channels. It wasn't even a match, just some documentary on a team. One of the Sports Men was taking a nap and the others on his team decided to burst in and scream to wake him up. He woke up. They all laughed.

Oh, what a wit!

Then they were playing some engrossing game of catch and making whooping and hollering noises. Loud screams whenever one of them dropped the ball.

Fucking apes.

Then we cut to just after a match, and one of the Sports Men ran and skidded through a big puddle. The others went wild with cheering and laughing.

Oh, those Sports Men. What will they do next?

The fans are every bit as bad, what with their painted faces and high-school chants. Bunch of primitives, they even look and act the part. Get a life. Fucking bigfoot hunters are worth more than you.

I am glad that I don't own a TV. My father has led by example of what not to become. Just think, if not for his domineering control over the screen, I might now be staring, glaze-eyed into the idiot box, watching people richer and dumber than myself play children's games.

Because that's all football is.

A children's game.

If you watch children's games, then you need to grow up - and also, fuck you. Not sure I mentioned that yet.

As for me, I'm taking a walk outside on this beautiful summer's day. I shall find a nice patch of shade to sit in and read a fucking book.

- Mojo

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