This is Sportscenter.
The show that, according to my most recent, absurd insight, is nothing but a hyped-up, overwritten, Emmy-winning gossip show for men.
Broadcast on a network devoted solely to the oldest, most original reality show there is: Professional sports.
Don’t get me wrong. I am and always have been an avid sports fan. I played high school football, and consider it to be amongst the most significant times of my life. But even then I realized how stupid it was how people could take it so seriously.
Why is it that people get so obsessed over certain sports teams? Men have ruined years of their lives sitting in front of TV's shouting and cheering for other men who have no clue nor care who they are. They’re just doing a job. In essence, people are cheering for glorifed heroes-for-hire. Sort of like wrestling.
Except wrestling is fake.
Professional sports are entirely real. No scripts. No storylines. But it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like a story. Every season feels like a chapter in a never-ending book. Each team with its beginning, middle, and end, all coming together in a magical tale of heroes, villains, and hard-hitting, exciting entertainment.
Perhaps hero worship is part of our natural primal instinct. Football players are modern day gladiators, or more accurately—warriors, fighting not to save their people from destruction, but to defend the honor of their given cities.
New York vs. New England. To me (and to most of the rest of the country), it’s good vs. evil, respectively.
No one I know outside of Boston wants the Patriots to win. Besides. It makes a better story that way.
So this Superbowl Sunday, when my friends and I pony up to the couch with our beers, pizza, and any other generic macho male sustenance, I’m going to make it a point to further examine this game amidst the loud commotion, eating and fraternizing of advertising’s biggest dorks.
But when those commercial breaks are on, you’d better believe there’s gonna be some shutting up.
Enjoy the game.