You’re coming up on 39 years of age. Your day job consists of hanging plywood and eating ham sandwiches, but mostly you just eat ham sandwiches and watch other men hang plywood. At night, you typically head to the bar where you’ve been a fixture for the last 15 years. The guys affectionately call you the “Human Keg” for obvious reasons.
Growing up on a steady diet of beer and potato chips, you have trouble concealing your midsection with any one of your XXL shirts, and your shoes often don’t match. Wearing a John Deere cap every day has worn the top of your head down to a polished dome and you hang on dearly to the remaining plumage around the sides.
The only thing you have to feel proud of — other than the fact that you found a woman who will live through sickness and health with you: You have eagle eyes. You can toss darts from eight feet away with such astounding accuracy that your beer buddies rave about you to the other ham sandwich-eaters at work. Surprisingly, Larry, Moe and Curly may not be the only ones interested in your flair for dart throwing.
ESPN might be.
Before you choke on your breakfast, realize this: ESPN will also come knocking if you are proficient in poker, billiards, fly-fishing, binging obscene amounts of hot dogs in less than 10 minutes or dragging twin-prop airplanes strapped over your shoulders for a few yards until you reach a piece of tape on the ground that reads, “Congratulations, you just risked snapping your back in half to drag a small passenger plane across this piece of tape.”
That’s right, ESPN — the worldwide leader in sports — airs all of these amazing accomplishments of the human race and more.
Look up the word “sport” in the dictionary and you’ll find: “an athletic activity” and “a laughingstock.” Apparently, ESPN is taking them both seriously.
Let’s face it — do you really enjoy coming home from a hard day’s work, sinking into your favorite armchair, popping a Coke and throwing on the latest episode of the Strongest Man Competition where Nordic steroid junkies strut their stuff?
Actually, I’ll let that one slide — I know how hard these guys must be training to drag airplanes and 18-wheelers. They may come in useful if my plane or truck ever runs out of fuel.
The other night, however, I flipped on the television hoping to catch “SportsCenter.” To my great disgust, the program had been replaced by none other than the Rock Paper Scissors Championships held in Las Vegas. That was the last straw.
If I wanted to watch a bevy of overweight, beer-bellied men with names like the “Human Keg” and “Pig Eater” throwing hand gestures at each other and inhaling hot dogs at record speeds, I would attend my family reunion.
Is ESPN that desperate for ratings? A quick scan of last week’s cable television Nielsen Ratings revealed that three of the top 10 spots were episodes of “WWE Raw,” averaging 5.3 million viewers apiece. None of ESPN’s programming broke the top 15. You know something is wrong when fake sports are trumping real ones.
Sports lovers of the world must unite against this gross offense! We must retake ESPN headquarters and dispel the demons of reality TV. We need to put the spotlight back on world-class athletes who can accomplish feats that my Uncle Verl couldn’t dream of doing.
Instead of watching average joes throwing darts, why not bask in the glory of “The Catch” tossed by San Francisco 49ers quarterback Joe Montana against the Dallas Cowboys in the 1981 NFC Championship?
Instead of airing a table of eccentric characters sweating over poker strategies, why not allow viewers to re-live the genius of the 1991 World Series? Or how about the performance by a young Magic Johnson in the 1980 NBA Finals when he tallied 42 points, 15 rebounds and seven assists against Dr. J’s 76ers? Probably packs more drama than catching salmon off the coast of Nantucket, right?
Pig Eater has had more than his 15 minutes of fame. Granted, 60 hot dogs in less than 10 minutes is an act few others can duplicate. But so is dropping 60 points against an NBA team — something Kobe Bryant does in his sleep.
The difference? Both of them make my jaw drop, but afterward one of them makes me hurl.
Let’s put the limelight back on the legends that contribute awesome — not awful — performances to television.