Monkeyball

I am thankful I don’t work in a sports bar because I find most mainstream sports…boring…at best. I will never understand societies infatuation with the equivalent of watching a bunch of monkeys fight over a banana. Excessively zealous fans who get emotionally involved in the banana tossing contests we call “sports” need to get a fucking life…or at the very least…stop coming to my bar and spouting off about it. So tonight…I had one of these single-minded back seat drivers sit with me and do just that. He couldn’t stop talking about his favorite monkeyball team as if he was a key player, “We are going to kick some ass this season, we have such a good offense this year, we are going to win a championship, we need to do this, we need to do that, blah, blah, blah.” Really fucktard? I am pretty sure all you are accomplishing is plopping your ass firmly on the couch and closet commentating when you take a timeout from sucking down Bud Lights and devouring fried chicken carcass wings. Maybe on a good day, you will manage to put on your cheerleader outfit and perform a little dance in your living room. The guys wearing tights chasing around a ball on a nice grassy field and wholeheartedly patting each others asses might win a championship, but you won’t do shit. When Travis Pastrana put his life on the line and pulled off the first double backflip in front of a live crowd at the X-Games…nobody was trapped in a delusional idea that they were somehow part of his accomplishment. Travis did it. Everyone was justifiably amazed, flushed full of adrenaline, happy, excited, and thankful for his safety. He showed the world the feelings you can enjoy when you are forced to separate yourself from what is going on and what is really going on. That is a sport. Thanks Travis. The Red Bull is on me if you ever come to my bar. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lyUKY3L0wEo Figure it out monkeyball fans.