Combining Senators hockey with a contempt of the human condition since 2007.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Ya Heard Me Burkina Faso! We Will TOTALLY Kick Your Ass!
I am an absolute sucker for the Olympics. There, I said it. And yes, I know, I should be filled with fear and loathing because the Games are being run by an evil, oppressive regime hell bent on world domination and the enslavement of millions. And because they happen to be taking place in China. I know that. But I'm not. So piss off.
How bad is it? I was up a 6:30 this morning, on the last Friday of my vacation, to watch the Opening Ceremonies, a full ninety minutes before the start (but not too early to miss the dulcet tones of Ron McLean waxing poetic about "tourists" being "shooed" out of Tienanmen Square by armed guards). Beloved would call me an idiot, if she weren't still asleep.
I really can't help it. I've always held that we, as fans of whatever team we choose to call "ours", are simply responding to an impulse, hard wired into our primordial brains, to prove that our "tribe" is better than the other guy's "tribe".
At first, this was done by invading the other guy's cave, clubbing his pet mammoth and stealing his mate. Eventually that got to be a little awkward around the watering hole (Grom: "Yeah, gee...um, sorry about that Kronk. Want your wife back?" Kronk: "Nope. Just the elephant.") so a substitute method of lording victory over a cowering opponent needed to be found. Not surprisingly, Kronk and Grom soon found themselves in a heated competition to see which of them could throw a rock the furthest. Very shortly thereafter, members of Kronk and Grom's respective families joined them at the tar pit to cheer them on, and as soon as someone figured out how to charge outrageous prices for fermented berries and roasted pterodactyl wings, *POOF!* sports were born. Look it up. It's in all the books.
And that, at it's heart is what sports are all about. It's tribalism at its most basic. The Olympics? Tribalism with a veneer of sophistication and jaunty chapeaus. Throw in a Canadian flag? I am all over that, baby. For the next two weeks, I will thump my chest, become an armchair expert in all manner of esoteric games and scream in outrage at the Bulgarian judge because our guy ABSOLUTELY STUCK THAT LANDING, JACKASS!!
So watch your back, Burundi. The Canucks are coming for your elephant.
Unapologetic sports fanatic (blessed with an incredibly patient wife...and my own Man Room). If they keep a score, if there's a winner and a loser, or if the participants stand a better than average chance of bleeding (especially that one), I'll watch it. At least once. Well, except for cricket. I'll NEVER understand cricket.