Search

An Observer of Life in Bad Poetry

Commentary on Daily Life, Politics and Sports

Open Search
Tag

Sports

College Football Sold Its Soul

The fans had gathered in the pre-dawn hours for the sausage and biscuit tailgate fare

Over strong hot coffee they discuss their teams chances against the opposition with the seventeen-year-old quarterback millionaire

The kickoff was at noon. The early time was scheduled by the true drivers of the sport, the television network

Their game was significant with playoff ramifications but was scheduled at the early time slot to compete against Des, Nick, Coach and Kirk

Big Money is only concerned with ratings and ESPN rules the roost

So the game will be played at noon to hopefully give the other network a boost

Sure, the fans squawked their protests like sheep bleeting in the runway to the slaughterhouse

But eventually they’ll break out the bourbon and quietly fill the stadium without realizing they are being controlled by Micky Mouse

The sleepy-eyed band is trying to work up some school spirit with the school’s fight song

But there wasn’t much of a spark generated as the fans have realized that college football in its greed has done them wrong

The boosters have been taken for granted for so long the sport feels invincible

They’ve quietly watched as football has turned into a giant money grab. Now to be considered for the privilege of buying tickets one has to make a payment to the athletic department but parking and tailgate fees are additional

The game itself has turned into one long butt numbing commercial fest

A 60-minute game has been stretched into a four-hour contest

The commercial breaks now take up 2-1/2 hours of the broadcast. Sportsbooks rule the airwaves with drug and beer commercials close behind As fans in the stands sit on their hands hiding from the weather while waiting for another three minutes of action as designed

Oh, Wait! The referees are huddled around a camera to see if the call they are paid to make was correct so we take another five-minute commercial break

“We’ll delay the action, kill the momentum, and a potential winning drive to see if our incompetent asses made a mistake”

“Let’s add a two-minute warning timeout in addition to the other three because Lord knows we haven’t had enough TV adds”

Toss in a thirty-minute half-time show so five talking heads can delve into the minds of the nineteen- year-old lads

Maybe just maybe this kid wasn’t giving his all because with three losses this team wasn’t making the playoffs anyway

With the Transfer Portal looming large, he’ll be gone at the season’s end to a bigger and better payday

He’ll go to a team that schedules more cupcake games where he can flash his athletic brilliance and not as likely to risk injury before going to the tier one pros

It’s all about the money, follow the dollar sign. No school loyalty, no team spirit and it’s no skin off his nose

If only the NCAA had woken to the fact they had the perfect playoff system already in hand

With the number of bowl games and a 64 team round robin tournament, think of the money TV, the universities, and players could command

Just drop the regular season games to ten and then begin the road to the championship

Suddenly the Bluebonnet Bowl wouldn’t be looked upon as a consolation trip

Much like March Madness this style tournament would give most a shot and advance the “cream” to the top

And all the fans hollering about shoulda’s coulda’s and woulda’s would slow to a stop

0

How Many Political Figures Would Survive Black Monday?

In the NFL the Monday following the last game of the season coaches not cutting the mustard are handed the rubber key

Judged by the team’s performance, it’s only the won-loss record that counts in the eyes of the powers that be

It matters not that owners’ egos, front office incompetents, and disgruntled players might have helped the coaches out the door

Injuries, bad calls, and missed field goals don’t matter at the end of the year, all that matters is the final score

It’s really too bad that political figures aren’t held to the same standard as the coaches

If a yearly grade determines that person’s right to stay in power, maybe something would be accomplished as zero hour approaches. In Congress no term limits instead of yearly judgement have kept these wooden totems in place far too long

Living large off the public feeding trough and continuously reminding Americans they were around when America was strong

Pick a Biden any Biden, and not one of them would have survived the first dismal season

Hunter (the coach’s yes-man) should be staring out from between bars, Jill (head cheerleader) accomplishes nothing and dresses like she’s looking for a hook up in third rate honky tonk and Joe (Head Coach) should be tried for treason

Gavin Newsom (VP of game plans) has single handily destroyed California. Running businesses out, raised taxes on top of taxes and offering migrants free healthcare

Alejandro Myorkas (Head Defensive Coach) A hand-picked defensive coordinator has left a huge gap in the defensive line that looks impossible to repair

Mitch McConnell (Head of Restaurant Operations) Mitch arrived at the other side of the hill years ago. He is now regarded a just a figurehead

His sole job is to make sure the feeding trough stays full and all the Rinos are well-fed

Lloyd Austin (Head Offensive Coordinator) has missed some meetings and disappeared into the hospital. He will now remain out of sight until a carefully written press release explains his how his elective surgery will somehow benefit the administrations game plan

And that release will be delivered with a straight face by the media relations secretary hoping her story will smooth things over before the real shit hits the fan

So many more names all feeling unapproachable by the American public. Maybe the NFL has it right. Base employment for another season on how they finish the year

And do not allow America to limp through another year with a losing campaign and flushed down the drain by well funded boosters and a demented angry racketeer

0

The Killing of Major League Baseball

We are here to bury baseball not to praise it, the end came hard and fast.
It was determined the pace of play caused the game to breathe it’s last.
But the efforts to accelerate play wound up slowing the contest down
“Live in the moment, “ the sports psychologist say. “Unsnap your gloves and fiddle around.”
“Think about the pitch, achieve proper launch angle, swing through your predetermined zone”
And as strike three sails past you can blame the ump for calls blown.
Oops, time to change the pitcher, the starter has worked five innings and thrown eighty nine times
Sure he has a three hitter in play, but working the sixth would rank high in heinous crimes
Now we get that hallowed righty/lefty match up, much to the advertisers delight.
Two more pitching changes, twelve more commercials and this game goes to midnight.
Six more strikeouts, one home run and a bunt attempt call at first needs a review
Cut to the drug ad, beer ad and new car trash talk, and the fans are starting to boo.
The camera focuses on the backsides of three fat umps standing in a group
One has a head set, one stares at the booth and one looks into space like a nincompoop
The days of Sparky Anderson in a rage and Earl Weaver nose to nose are a youthful recollection
That game could hinge on the ump’s eyeball call and the ensuing fracas might lead to ejection
But now the headset ump removes his earphones signals the call as ordained by New York
Sure he doesn’t have to wipe tobacco juice off his face, but now a conformist dork
The announcers as if on cue, are quick to point out this is for the benefit of all involved
No emotion, no dirt kicking, no offering of eye glasses, just a shrug by managers, situation resolved
The broadcasters can go back to killing their listeners with needless pointless stats
“This player hits better after two strikes against Latino pitchers with runners on base using black bats”
Whatever happened to swing at strikes, put the ball in play and hit it where it’s pitched.
Sadly that idea went the way of affordable tickets, two dollar hot dogs and was ditched
The game is now a stream of steroid enriched behemoths hitting two thirty swinging for the fences
Hit a couple of long balls by the fourth before the parade of arm weary relievers commences
The thrill of the teacher rolling in the TV and watching the World Series is gone
It’s a shame the playoffs are played in arctic chill till the wee hours of the dawn
Staying up late now means playing endless rounds of Doom on your Play Station
No father son talk of stolen bases, moving the runner, or pitching rotation
So Baseball go ahead, sell a colorless diluted product while giving players million dollar deals
When no one is buying into this lame excuse of the Grand Ole Pastime, see how that feels

2

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑