A Bad Place Full Of Bad Jerks
A Bad Place Full Of Bad Jerks
Illustration for article titled Perspectives: American Football

This is a short essay composed by myself, a blue-blooded American from America, on why I dislike Football. I realize that like owning several assault rifles in spite of never shooting anyone, this essay may put me out of favour with my fellow American colleagues. Let me preface by saying that this really isn't an essay per se, but more of a misconstrued, poorly constructed series of statements and rants designed to enlighten my fellow American buddies.


Why or how anybody can find joy and amusement in Football is beyond my comprehension. Now, before you ask, yes, I do have a degree in Quantum Chemistry with a specialization in Algorithmic Minutae from noted American University M.I.T, so I can comprehend lots of stuffs.

A short List:

(ed note; this list was embedded within an actual post as to not raise the ire of one Miserable overseer)


Mysteries Of The Known Universe Ranked:

4. Nanaimo bars, Poutine, Labatt Ice – Why are they so good?

3. Why is Lil Wayne popular

2. Dark Matter. What is it? and why is it so hard to figure out?

1. The popularity of the Popular American sport of American Football

Firstly. The very nature of football is geared towards the LCD. Why else would a game stop and start so much? Because it gives the audience time to process all of the intricacies of the previous play. Like who threw the ball? And where did it land? If I wanted to watch something stop and start for an hour I'd grab a beer and a chair and sit in front of my Dishwasher. But my wife gets all uppity when I stare at her or throw cans at her feet.


Also, if you don't know what LCD stands for then football is for you.

It is also an acronym for Long Constrained Delay which is a particularly adequate summation of the thought-process of your average, fellow American football enthusiast.


As a Levi's wearing, Ford Silverado driving American; I recently attended a game featuring my favourite team, the Baltimore Stallions. What follows is a sampling of the dialogue brought forth by those in attendance.

Unemployed Peanut Factory employee: "What just happened?"

Ex-con Friend: *punches father of 4 seated in front of him*

Unemployed Peanut Factory employee: "Ohhhh…ok. Got it. Also, I just pissed in my pants".


Interactions such as these repeat themselves dozens of times throughout the 60 arduous minutes allotted for this game. Or as brown people call it: waterboarding.

As an unbiased member of the American populace, it amuses me so when the fairer sex (women) try and talk to the upstanding and undoubtedly American men about football. I know very well that they don't actually like football and are only watching it to please their husbands/ sugar daddies. Come on Ladies!! You can vote now!!


It is clear scientific fact (again, went to M.T.I M.I.T) that there is not one female football fan on planet earth. They are myths like unicorns, democracy, and a sober Mike Ditka. Anyone who tells you different is a Charlatan.

Again, I present a sampling of healthy American dialogue I was fortunate to overhear whilst shopping at a local store that sold Ketchup chips, freedom fries, serviettes and Canada Dry, my favourite of the ginger flavoured ales.


Woman: "Hey, did you see Joe Montana throw those touch down catches yesterday?"

Handsome American Husband: "Joe Montana retired 20 years ago".

Woman: "Obviously. I knew that".

Strong, Steely-eyed Husband: "did you?"

Woman: "yes".

Assertive, yet agreeable Husband: "did you also know, I've been sleeping with your sister?"


At this point the woman broke down and confessed that she LOATHED football but its the only way she can get her husband to pay any attention to her, because they are in a loveless relationship, and his brother Danny looks at her funny with his thumbs in his belt loops.

This scene plays out in households all across America.

And let's not forget the Tailgate party.

Look at it. LOOK AT IT.

A ghoul's collection of football 'fans', that gather in a parking lot where the sole intention is to get so wasted on outstanding American beer, that they can't remember what team they are even cheering for or where they left their 8 year old.


But why do they have to start drinking 9 hours before kick off? Simple. If you were also a noted American Physicist with a degree in things, you would know the answer. The answer of course is because they cannot deal with football sober. No one can. And can you blame them? If I had to stand with 80,000 other degenerates and laid-off auto workers all day, in some god forsaken snake-pit like Buffalo or Pittsburgh, you can bet your sweet Jerry Jones that I'd be getting as blasted off of Breakfast Fireball as humanly possible.

These tailgaters usually end up in jail, spend half the game pissing out the beer, or engaging in fisticuffs with some bros from the local State College before vomiting in the hair of a security guard. (Go State!)


And you know why? It's because they don't like football. Nobody really does. Have you ever heard a conversation about football outside of television last more than 20 seconds? If you said yes, you're a liar and by definition: A traitorous wretch.

Man X: "Hey what kind of routes do you think Andre Rison will be running today?"


Dog: *barks, licks balls, eats poison*.

Football and its popularity have boggled many a mind for eons. And to hear that some have the audacity to claim that baseball is the most boring sport? Have you ever seen someone intentionally snap their own femur (Joe Theissman) just to get out of a baseball game?


Furthermore, the fact that the networks claim the superbowl is viewed in over 200 countries is to me, quite possibly the funniest thing I have ever heard. And I attended an Ivy League school in the Eastern portion of America, so the hilarity, naturally, abounded.

I called up my friend Enkhjargal Otgonbayarseg last superbowl Saturday -who lives in Ulaan Bataar. And guess what? He confirmed to me that indeed, the yurts in Inner Mongolia are NOT packed with Detroit Lions fans eagerly awaiting the next field goal, but chickens and lamb mostly. Then I called up my friend Tamerlan Tsarnaev (we roomied in University) and he gleefully dictated that Chechens are really not giving a rat's ass about the Superbowl being on in the background while they plot something predictably insane.


Let it be known that as a Card carrying member of America, it is my right as an American person to voice my dissent. It's the 4th amendment, and one we as United Statsian's all take for granted. This nation could take a great leap forward if it were to turn its attention elsewhere on Sundays, and Thursdays.

We could do our American selves a huge favour and engage with the world outside of the TV and the beer places and the sporting venues. Get off of your chesterfields, grab a bag of outdoor milk and head out. There's a whole exciting world out there on Sundays. Hockey games, road hockey, etc.


Anything is better than football.

So please American friends, don't hate the player, hate the game. And then hate the player. All of them.


And then yourselves, for giving them an audience.


An Average American John

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