Michael Tunison - The Football Fans Manifesto
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To my mother, with all my love,
even if she is a Redskins fan
This book would not exist without the work of Johan Gutenberg, Al Gore, and the Rooney family. Also, these people:
First and foremost, my family: my mom and dad, Christina, Angie, Marissa, Alexandra, and Colleen.
My second, hipper, blacker family: Kevin Merida and Donna Britt, who drove me to start writing and are therefore responsible for every bad joke in this book; the immensely talented Hamani Britt-Gibson, who owes me twenty dollars; and my weekly football confidant and TV murderer Darrell Britt-Gibson.
Internet dick-joke-slinging brethren: Drew Magary, Matt Ufford, Jack Kogod, Joshua Zerkle, and the shadowy figure that is flubby. As well as our Uproxx benefactors Jarret Myer and Brian Brater. And Jerry Thompson, who makes it run smoothly.
JoAnn Bruch, to whom I owe my all-consuming football fanaticism.
My editor Matthew Benjamin: You took a chance on me and made this mystifying process remarkably easy. Apologies again for all the bukkake jokes in the first draft.
Much thanks to my compatriots in Web-based onanistic sportswriting for continued support, inspiration, and Brazzers.com log-ins: Will Leitch, Nick Dallamora, Sarah Sprague, Mike Florio, Stefan Fatsis, DJ Gallo, Spencer Hall, Brian Powell, Raquel Frisardi, Dan Shanoff, Matt Johnson, Gourmet Spud, Brooks Melchior, The Mighty MJD, Vince Mancini, Dan Levy, Chris Cooley, Wright Thompson, Cajun Boy, Chris Cotter, Michael Grass, Rob Iracane, J. E. Skeets, Grimey, Scott Van Pelt, the Brothers Mottram, Sarah Schorno, Dan Steinberg, Enrico Campitelli Jr., and A. J. Daulerio.
Friends, well-wishers, and people who dont wish me any specific harm: Ralston Yorrick, Jessica Rinne, Aaron Andzik, Joe Nese, Barbara Lindell, Vanessa Parra, Lana Chung, Rob Ullman, Candice Bloch, Jon Lewis, Elahe Izadi, Ben Domenech, Adam Claus, and Rachel Freedenberg.
Katie, Sterling, Nena, Sal, Scrappy, Jobie, and the rest of folks at the Pour House with whom I share my boozy autumn Sundays and screaming fits.
The readers and commenters at Kissing Suzy Kolber: When they arent cussing me out or dismissively commenting meh on my posts, theyre making me eternally grateful not to be writing any more ten-inch stories on county council meetings. Thanks, assholes!
Professional football is the undisputed god-king of American sports. It always has been so, even back in the times when we hadnt quite realized it yet. The mere existence of pro football obviates the need for all other contests of athletic skill, yet these other sports (parlor games, really) remain despite their complete and utter irrelevance. Why we abide by such unnecessary, quasi-athletic diversions when we have the game of football is a testament to our modern excess.
To be fair, these other sports do serve some minor purpose. And not only to give us something to mock. Because the NFL has yet to genetically produce elite athletes able to withstand the rigors of a year-round schedule (why the hold up?), were left with nearly seven desolate months of no meaningful football. During these dark times of despair, some of these lesser sports are all we have to stave off the clammy hands of adult responsibilities and a social life. Theyre passable, if barely adequate, distractions to fill the hours until the late summer rolls around. Thats all. Nothing more. Certainly nothing to get worked up about.
Howeverand it should come as a great shockthere are depraved individuals out there who maintain that some of these other sports can produce a level of enjoyment on par with the NFL. The sickest among these deviants even insist that others sports can provide a preferable viewing experience to professional football. As if such a thing were actually possible. Wrongheaded as this belief is, our permissive, increasingly soccer-tolerant culture has allowed it to propagate in certain circles with an air of acceptance. Its high time we set the record straight. In doing so, hopefully we can reach these woefully misinformed souls before they do something unforgivable like purchase season tickets to the Red Sox.
Baseball In 1987, Washington Post columnist Thomas Boswell memorably attempted, and epically failed, to enumerate ninety-nine reasons why baseball is better than football. Of course it didnt take him more than five to screw the whole thing up. Singing Take Me Out to the Ball Game at Wrigley Field is supposed to be a virtue? I guess thats a possibility if one were to disregard the famously awful renditions by Ozzy Osbourne, Jeff Gordon, and dozens of other celebrity duffers. More to the point, the Major League Baseball regular season lasts approximately two and a half lifetimes and feels at least three times that long. A Lord of the Rings movie doesnt drag on as much. By the time it gets halfway interesting in September and October, football season has already begun. Poor timing on your part, besuboru . Half the players in the league now require the services of an interpreter to tell fans to fuck off (at least have the courtesy to cuss me out in my own language, Ichiro). The game falls back on its puffed-up long-gone era of cultural import; meanwhile, MLB playoff games draw about half the audience of an NFL regular season contest. And any sport that considers Bartolo Colon an athlete immediately gets bumped down to second-tier status. At least the fatties in football can block. Unless they play for the Rams.
Basketball Thanks, but I prefer to stick with sports that I know are only probably fixed. Not to mention those whose leagues arent teetering on the brink of insolvency. Contraction is a very real threat for several NBA teams, which figures to ruin the lives of nearly dozens of rabid hoop fans. Besides, the NBA Playoffs drag on about as long as the baseball regular season. The perennial powerhouse Spurs might be the most unlikeable team in all of sports. The most compelling story line in recent years is the never-ending drama surrounding LeBron Jamess eventual departure from Cleveland, as though anyone found LeBron even remotely likeable. And, okay, sure, college basketball is a hoot (for about a month, anyway), but anything that Duke excels at is ruined for all parties involved. Not to mention the disconcerting correlation between getting older and the creepiness of getting emotional about teenagers committing to a certain school.
College Football The bastard cousin of professional football exists solely as a refuge for aged frat boys and Southerners. Proponents will harangue you endlessly about its superiority to the pro game, claiming that the atmosphere at a college football game is far more raucous than its professional counterpart and that student athletes play for love, not money (okay, love, under-the-table gifts from the university, the promise of future riches, boylike adulation from boosters, and poon up to your hairline). All this is actually fairly accurate, but ultimately moot, because the NCAA refuses to implement a playoff system, opting to continue with its convoluted Bowl Championship Series, which leads to the annual screwing of more deserving teams in favor of USC and Ohio State. It may be true that the way college football conducts overtime is technically fairer, since each team is guaranteed at least one possession. Problem is, it takes goddamn forever. I will say in college footballs defense that at least Duke sucks at it.
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