Vikings day
Up and out of the house early this morning. Korey, Travis and I headed to the Dome to see the Vikings play the Texans. We had a great time and saw a good game. The Vikings won, 28-21.
One thing to say about an NFL game, the pace is very, v-e-r-y s-l-o-w. There are official time-outs, injury time-outs, television time-outs, time-out time-outs. And with each time-out, the NFL feels obligated to entertain the monkeys in the stands (a.k.a. football fans). For our neanderthal entertainment value, we got to see golfing cheerleaders, rocket launched tee shirts, and air guitar competitions to name just a few.
When, in the name of Bud Grant, did this crap become necessary at a football game?
Personally speaking, I really don't need to be entertained every living, breathing moment of a game.
Actually, you want to know a secret? The real entertainment comes from the drunks sitting around you who expound their football wisdom after fueling up on beer during the tailgate party. The longer the game goes on, the more beer is swilled and the smarter they get. Then, in the fourth quarter, they suddenly become quiet, their eyes become half closed and they start mumbling incomprehensible gibberish like, "Schmigle my nana sack. Apple banger offer drop the greyhounds. Feeek boys, litter piff puff."
Three alarming things:
One thing to say about an NFL game, the pace is very, v-e-r-y s-l-o-w. There are official time-outs, injury time-outs, television time-outs, time-out time-outs. And with each time-out, the NFL feels obligated to entertain the monkeys in the stands (a.k.a. football fans). For our neanderthal entertainment value, we got to see golfing cheerleaders, rocket launched tee shirts, and air guitar competitions to name just a few.
When, in the name of Bud Grant, did this crap become necessary at a football game?
Personally speaking, I really don't need to be entertained every living, breathing moment of a game.
Actually, you want to know a secret? The real entertainment comes from the drunks sitting around you who expound their football wisdom after fueling up on beer during the tailgate party. The longer the game goes on, the more beer is swilled and the smarter they get. Then, in the fourth quarter, they suddenly become quiet, their eyes become half closed and they start mumbling incomprehensible gibberish like, "Schmigle my nana sack. Apple banger offer drop the greyhounds. Feeek boys, litter piff puff."
Three alarming things:
- These people shelled out plenty of dough for a ticket, and won't remember the game.
- These people coughed up $8 a beer.
- These people (might) vote on Tuesday.
God help us all.
