Thursday, September 13, 2007

Epic Drop: Top 10 Masshole Excuses for PatriotGate

The list is here, but I'd also like to take a moment to throw something out there for everyone who, like me, keeps reading Bill Simmons under the Can't Stop Touching The Bad Tooth school of thought.

In the latest incident of You Can Predict Every Word Before You Read It, our favorite punching bag puts out the idea that Media Saturation is what causes everyone to hate on various teams (especially his favorites). I always love being told why I think things, don't you?

For the record... I don't hate the Patriots. I don't hate the Red Sox. Or the Yankees, the Colts, the Mets, the Giants, the Cowboys, the Redskins... and I haven't for a very long time.

A big part of this is fantasy sports. Once you've crossed the Rubicon of hard numbers for dollars and acquired the gambler's callousness (and let's face facts, fantasy sports *is* gambling -- just a less serious version of it, with plenty of levels between you and the pathetic no lifers at the dog track), you really do lose the ability to hate guys.

If my football leagues had all adopted a strict No Terrell Owens policy, I'd draft him more or less where he was slotted in my rankings, and take the dirty money. I've owned Barry Bonds, Manny Ramirez and a great many disagreeable others from teams that have ruined my team's dreams; it's not that big of a deal. If his team wins and beats mine, that really sucks, but it's not like I've got a dartboard in my basement with every team that ever took out mine in the playoffs.

No, what I've come to hate now are the actual fans.

The Masshole, with his bipolar insufferable arrogance / melodrama. The Yankee Fan, who seems to punctuate every disagreement with a call to violence or Ring Taunt. Cub Fan, who is just a championship away from being as bad as the Massholes. Giants Fan, with his painful to watch justifications for the Bonds Problem. And, yes, even my own fellow Philly Fans, who can't appreciate anything, even as they watch generally competitive teams, in brand new stadiums, with significant money to spend on their own athletes and free agents, and a not inconsiderable amount of success / watchable teams.

To all of you -- every single last one -- I have this time-honored advice.

Get On A Plane. Then, get off it, and don't get back on for a while.

Discover what it's like to not be in the warm cocoon of your hometown bubble. See a game from another venue without being part of an obnoxious army of invaders. Develop, for even just small moments, the perspective of having different problems than the ones you currently have. (And if the plane isn't feasible, just turn off your radio and your local Web sites and go spend some time in someone else's cyberhood.)

You'll find that life out here, beyond Red Sox Nation and the Yankee Empire and whatever other marketing slogan you've come up with to embrace groupthink douchebaggery, is actually kinda nice.

And it might also let you call a cheater a cheater -- regardless of the laundry on his back.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Too true. I was never conflicted about cheering for the Eagles until I moved to Philadelphia and realized what I'd allied myself with. Now I want to beat Angelo Cataldi and his Dirty Thirty with a bag of flaming hammers.