Saturday, September 22, 2007

Sports Are Dumb

I’ve figured out why I keep following these distant pro sports teams from Boston.


Athletes and fans are dumb. By absorbing myself in that world, I get to feel like a genius.


Take the Red Sox, for example.


Back in June, when we were gloating about a 500-game division lead over the Yankees, I said the teams would be neck-in-neck come September.


Everyone on the Yankee pitching staff seemed ready to enroll in AARP, except those who were about to enroll in their first driver education course. But I knew that wouldn’t stop them.


As I write these words, the Red Sox have just a 1½ game lead over the Yankees for the division title. At the rate of their present decline, the Sox franchise will have folded and moved to Las Vegas to become and exhibition softball team by the time this column appears in print.


What did we expect? These are still the Red Sox.


David Ortiz sounds like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz when he walks to the plate; the bat boys are constantly squirting oil onto his knees and elbows.


Our Japanese wonder-hurlers are now having their arms re-attached with duct tape after each game.


Eric Gagne, once the mighty record-setting closer of doom and intimidation, is secretly on the Yankees’ payroll.


Kevin Youkilis keeps getting hit by pitches because his ridiculous batting stance distracts the opposing pitchers.


Then there's Manny. Oi.


That’s the way things are with this team. The one thing you can count on is that they will make things interesting.


I also feel really smart now that the Patriots have been caught illegally filming opposing coaches during games.


Coaches giving signals to their players are always in plain view. Here's a revolutionary new method the Patriots could have used to steal the signals without being penalized:

  1. Grab a pencil and a notebook.

  2. Write down the signals and what they mean.


Instead, they had to get high-tech, which attracted the attention of league officials, who swooped in like Roscoe P. Coltrane to apply the slap on the wrist.


Meanwhile, the NFL continues to enhance is reputation for having pointless rules. The espionage itself is not outlawed, just certain methods of it. It's like having a no-fly zone that you don't enforce against hot air balloons.


Lastly, Celtics fans have become so desperate for a winning season that they’ve fooled themselves into believing the trade for Kevin Garnett is going to bring long last championship number 17.


Ya. Just one problem. Can Paul Pierce share the ball?


If Pierce ever threw a decent pass, a space-time vortex would open and suddenly zap him out of reality.


And let’s not forget what the C’s had to give up in order to get Garnett: half their roster, including promising young stars Al Jefferson and that other guy, seventeen first-round draft picks, two assistant coaches, nine scouts, six secretaries from the front office, 40 million dollars, and that little pipe the leprechaun chews on. Ouch.


See? Next to Danny Ainge, Bill Belichick, and Theo Epstein I look like a Rhodes scholar. And the best part is that if I turn out to be wrong about all of this, it means my favorite teams have won and I still get to be happy.


Aren't sports wonderful?

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