Here’s how I would describe sports to Amazonian tribesmen in Brazil who’ve never heard of them before:
Football – “Get a ball from one end of a big empty field to another. You can’t actually kick the ball though, except sometimes.
Why is it called football then? Not sure, maybe ‘handball’ was already taken?
Oh yeah, you also slap each other’s butts when you do something good. What’s good? I don’t know, but if you don’t do something good, you get yelled at by the coach.
Who’s the coach? He’s this guy on the side that tells people what to do. Why isn’t he actually on the field playing then? Well, cause he’s too old, I guess.
I don’t know why they just don’t eat the old guy that yells at them, it makes a lot of sense to me Copachutl.
What are the rules? Well, on your first down you….ah, forget it.”
Hockey – “You see, there’s a big field of ice, and guys with blades on their feet move around on it and try to take a little rubber thing and put it in a net at the other end.
What’s ice? Ah, forget it.”
Baseball – “Okay, there’s this BIG field and inside this field there are four ‘stations’ where each guy stands. Except at second base, well, kinda. There’s another guy called the shortstop that plays halfway between…know what? Forget that part.
Here: A guy throws a ball through the air and another guy tries to hit it with a bat as far as he can. Yeah, just like you guys do in this village, but instead of a dried up jaguar skull, it’s a ball wrapped in leather. Well, that’s pretty much it.
Oh yeah, you also take a bunch of drugs so you get really strong and can hit the ball further.”
Basketball – “Okay, you need to be really tall to play this game.
No, no … Chikititaxou isn’t tall enough. Hah hah, he’s maybe 4’5″, you need to be almost twice as tall as him to play this game. Yes, there are many people who are that tall in the world. No, we don’t worship them…well, kinda I guess we do, but…anyways.
There’s a big floor and at each end there’s a big tall stick with hoops attached to it. Each team has to get the ball through the hoop, and it’s really high so that’s why being tall is better.
Why don’t they make it shorter so the whole village can play? I don’t know, Chikititaxou. You’re right, it isn’t really fair.
The ball bounces off the floor, so you have to bounce it everywhere you go, you can’t walk or run with it in your hands.
No, you can’t kick it. Why not? Because, hmm. Those are the rules. No feet allowed.
And you can’t touch anyone. You’re only supposed to touch the ball. No, you can’t use arrows either, that would be murder and killing isn’t allowed. No, no traps…just the ball and people, nothing else is allowed.
You also have other people you can throw the ball to and they’ll help you. No, they’re not from the same village necessarily. Wait, they might be, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not sure why they don’t only play with the same tribe they’re from. Some people play on the same team as people far far away. God, I don’t know their motivation for not helping out the people in their village. Look … the reason is money okay? Chickens. They get more chickens from people who give them chickens to play for their village than the people in their own village give them. Yeah, I know it doesn’t make sense. It just is. I don’t know why they need so many chickens. Let’s move on, okay?
Okay, anyways, if you throw the ball in the hoop, you score two points.
Why two and not just one? I don’t know.
Look, let’s play tag instead. Okay? You’re it!”
Very nice descriptions. And quite accurate too!
However, I’m disappointed in your failure to write a three paragraph diatribe on the merits of ladies’ beach volleyball, which I suspect is your sport of choice.
Meh, doesn’t matter what sport it is or who’s playing it, I just hate sports. I think I could get into watching hot British chicks play snooker though. But that’s not a sport, it’s a game.
Sports are hell for me to watch. No matter how many boobs, butts, or nip-slips there are, I’ll never have it turned on my TV. That’s how much I hate them.
And I cook too.
Damn, I’m gay or something!
Oh wait, I don’t like fashion. Whew, not gay.
You’re not gay until you can name seventeen different shoe designers and utter phrases like “soft deerskin fuchsia ankle straps”.
I don’t know about pool but I wrote something recently about how Channel 5 in the UK used to show Ladies Topless Darts (I believe those ladies were British and Italian). Call me crazy but if you’re going to do anything with your boobs-a-kimbo, as it were, it maybe shouldn’t be something involving hurling tiny, sharp, pointy weapons around after a few pints.
I don’t like sports either. Well I like some baseball. Apart from that, meh.
17 shoe designers? Eeep! Here goes:
1. Prada
2. Gucci
3. Gnocci
4. Nike
5. Adidas
6. El Toro
7. Versacapucci
8. Fonzarelli
9. Paylessi
10. …
Whew, only 9! I’m not gay after all! Whew. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that…)
Topless darts you say? Whoah, I’m going to avoid the temptation and just skip over the whole range of possible easy pokes at THAT game. Hah hah, easy pokes, get it?
Actually, despite my whole ‘horn-dog’ blogging persona I just don’t think naked darts would be all that exciting to watch. Funny to laugh about, but meh, give it about 10 seconds (enough to generate an opinion of some sort) and then I’m back to The Office.
– Which I haven’t actually watched for about 4 months now. I just don’t watch much TV. I guess that makes me an asshole now huh?
Hahaha I just posted on my other blog the other day about how little TV I watch and how people think there’s something wrong with me. I guess I am not alone! ROCK ON!
I’m very impressed by your designer list. Fonzarelli was my favourite. Little stiff leather shoes that squeak a lot and attract the chicks I imagine.
Payless are too exquisite for me. I’m not that classy.
I don’t know why the Fonz didn’t capitalize on his success and merch himself out. “Ayyyyy get yoahself a Fonzicawffee – todayyyyyy!”
The problem I see with TV is that 1) it’s full of reality shows, and 2) it’s full of reality shows, and 3) it’s full of CSI-type-dark-drama shows
More drama and reality in my life? Screw that, I’m out. I’m going to stare at the eggshell white walls instead. Or watch South Park reruns over and over and over. Poop jokes never get old.
The funny thing is, after making this comment I remembered that you had ANOTHER blog and went and looked at that. Crap, I kinda almost paraphrased you!
Really! I wrote this comment before I checked out your post on the other blog! I’m not trying to stalk you or anything, honest! Well maybe a little bit, but…
Honestly, it scares me that there are other people out there like me.
Thank God you don’t live in America, because there’s nothing more un-American than hating sports.
I’m living in fear now. Saying hockey is stupid – in Canada – has cost me my freedom. Assasins are waiting outside my apartment door, and I only have a few canned items left to eat before I have to leave and get some food.
Look, if I don’t post any responses for a few days in a row can someone call my parents and let them know the TRUTH about what happened? I know they’ll be ashamed of me, but they deserve to know what happened to me and that I stood up for my beliefs.
Also, I’d like to will my toilet paper to you, P@D, cause… well, it just sounds funny to will someone toilet paper.