manic sunday
I keep telling myself that an addiction to watching sports is ruining my life. Then the weekend comes and there's NLCS and ALCS games, college football, the Jets on Sunday...and I find my ass glued to the couch once again, waiting for Monday morning to bring a new week so I can have yet another reason to hate myself again.
Without a job, the weekends mean nothing. That's been established (see: Claypool circa 1993). However, the stress felt during the jobless week still exists, through behavioral patterns that exist in society and have been burned into each individual. Even to the most guilt free of procrastinators does the weekend bring some sort of refuge. It is really only then that the lazy can feel good about not getting things done. Because its the only time (besides Thankgsgiving and some other Holidays) when everyone else seems to be subscribing to the same rules of the game.
Enter sports. Baseball games that were once a little over two hours now average close to four. The tv volume mysteriously increases to brainnumbing levels during every commerical break. "TV timeouts" that are now built in to every major US sporting event, occur roughly every five minutes. Football games that mysteriously slow down in the second part of the fourth quarter and the next game, "bonus coverage" is always at a climactic moment when they pull the switch, right before you can pull yourself off the couch and make a getaway.
I should be getting better. With this knowledge should come action. I know I have a probem, that I admit and we all know that is the first step. The second step awaits me. But last night, as the White Sox beat the Angels again, drawing one win closer to the World Series, I flipped over to NBC, and they had Nascar on.
Nascar. The most popular spectator sport in this country. How could that be? Its a bunch of cars racing in circles for three hours. Where's the excitement? Where's the drama? You can't even see teh expression on the "athletes" faces...
Yet there I was...being pulled in. I knew that it was the wrong thing to do. My finger hovered over the power button on the remote. All I had to do was press down. But I didn't. I wanted to see the pink car sponsered by Target make a move. I found myslef rooting for it to pass that other car and take sole possession of third place...
Ah yes, sports. My worst enemy. My best friend. The conflicted man sits on his couch. Just another manic Sunday.
Without a job, the weekends mean nothing. That's been established (see: Claypool circa 1993). However, the stress felt during the jobless week still exists, through behavioral patterns that exist in society and have been burned into each individual. Even to the most guilt free of procrastinators does the weekend bring some sort of refuge. It is really only then that the lazy can feel good about not getting things done. Because its the only time (besides Thankgsgiving and some other Holidays) when everyone else seems to be subscribing to the same rules of the game.
Enter sports. Baseball games that were once a little over two hours now average close to four. The tv volume mysteriously increases to brainnumbing levels during every commerical break. "TV timeouts" that are now built in to every major US sporting event, occur roughly every five minutes. Football games that mysteriously slow down in the second part of the fourth quarter and the next game, "bonus coverage" is always at a climactic moment when they pull the switch, right before you can pull yourself off the couch and make a getaway.
I should be getting better. With this knowledge should come action. I know I have a probem, that I admit and we all know that is the first step. The second step awaits me. But last night, as the White Sox beat the Angels again, drawing one win closer to the World Series, I flipped over to NBC, and they had Nascar on.
Nascar. The most popular spectator sport in this country. How could that be? Its a bunch of cars racing in circles for three hours. Where's the excitement? Where's the drama? You can't even see teh expression on the "athletes" faces...
Yet there I was...being pulled in. I knew that it was the wrong thing to do. My finger hovered over the power button on the remote. All I had to do was press down. But I didn't. I wanted to see the pink car sponsered by Target make a move. I found myslef rooting for it to pass that other car and take sole possession of third place...
Ah yes, sports. My worst enemy. My best friend. The conflicted man sits on his couch. Just another manic Sunday.
posted by mathias at 6:44 PM
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