Now that the NFL has returned (and, with it, the much-anticipated CIT weekly college and pro football picks), I have been subjected to the two words in the English language which make me the craziest:
This artificial nickname for the Dallas Cowboys, a joint by-product of an early 90s Saturday Night Live bit the white man’s need to sound “street”, raises my blood pressure instantly. Its like a red cape to a bull. When I hear it or read it, my teeth gnash of their own volition.
Dallas is really a terrible sports town. It’s the home of the front-runner, the band-wagoner, and the knee-jerk over-reactor. Sudden expertism and sports obliviousness run rampant. Everyone from the 20 year old receptionist at your dentist to the guy changing your oil to your neighbor Bob has a theory on why the Cowboy offense grinds to a halt in the red zone, and an opinion about who should be the weak-side linebacker in the nickel.
I have, over the course of the past 15 years or so, gone from Cowboy fan to Cowboy hater, back to fan, and now find myself mostly disinterested. I enjoy Sundays as much as the next guy, but the during-the-week knee-jerking, and hot sports opinions from the great sports-unwashed absolutely drain my will to live.
What set me off on this mini-rant? I just got an invitation to a game-watching party (INSTANT red flag – do any real sports fans go to “watching parties”?) to view “Da Boyz vs the Deadskins” on Sunday.
My options after receiving the email: Slip into a six-month coma, or go rail on the Internet. So here I am. Thanks for listening!