Oh to be a sports announcer. What a chill job. You get to sit around behind the mask of supermodel athletes on glowing green fields (for your face is never really shown, no one wants to see your ugly mug) and you get to yell about stuff - even when it doesn't matter.
Sports, my friends, never matter. They don't effect the world futures market. They don't spin straw into gold. They can't even stop the moon and the stars, so what good are they really?
We'd all like to pretend that the 1980 U.S. Hockey Team saved the world from crippling communism. We'd even like to pretend that little Kerri Strug solved world hunger by taking the weight of the global problem all on that little ankle of hers.
But get real. Sports don't matter.
Doesn't mean you shouldn't be excited about the Red Sox, though. Screw Tony and his super cubs, they're doomed. The Red Sox..okay, they're doomed too.. but we can hope. We can imagine beautiful things from this little franchise. We can imagine world peace, goodwill towards all men, free ice cream.. We can imagine it all - if only the Red Sox could win.
I want to be a sports announcer when the Red Sox break the curse, when they slap old bambino in the ass like a bum horse -
get out of here. I want to be able to yell:
Red Sox Win! Red Sox Win! Red Sox Win!
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the guys: philogynist jaime tony - the gals:raymi raspil
