Articles
 by Jeff Strand January 31, 2003 |
The “Another by Jeff Strand |
As a loyal resident of Tampa, I was absolutely thrilled that the
Buccaneers went to the Super Bowl. Do you realize that this meant?
No lines at Universal Studios Islands of Adventure! Woo-hoo! While
everybody else was watching the kickoff, I was…well, around that
time I was probably still stuck on the Cat in the Hat ride, which
malfunctioned and trapped my wife and I for about twenty minutes
in a car with a little girl, whose dreams of Seussian perfection
have been shattered, and her father, who mentioned several times
that he could really use a cocktail. That glitch aside, it was a
wonderful day.
It probably won’t surprise you to learn that I’m not a big football
fan. This is not to say that I think football fanatics should get
a life. After all, I waited in line for several hours to get opening-night
tickets to The Phantom Menace and applauded with everybody else when
Yoda kicked butt in Attack of the Clones, so I am perhaps not the
best candidate to be lecturing people on how they should spend their
time. As far as I’m concerned, if you want to cover yourself with
body paint and wear those giant foam hands, go for it! I judge you
not.
You might think that my
dislike of football stemmed from my youth; notably my freshman
year of high school, when I was assigned to flag
football in PE. It was not a pleasant experience. This is not to
say that I was the worst player in the class; I was, however, the
worst male player in the class, which was a much more shameful position.
But there was an even more devastating blow to my popularity. Our
teacher, who was perhaps not the most ambitious physical education
instructor our public education system had ever seen, basically ran
the class by saying “Okay, go play some flag football.” And
I didn’t know how.
I mean, I knew what the quarterback did. He was the guy who had
no qualms about squatting behind another guy and reaching between
his legs. But they didn’t ask me to be quarterback. Instead, I was
told to play some cryptic position, like Double Decker Halfback or
something. I tried to walk to a spot on the field that looked appropriate
for this position and pretend that I was paying extremely close attention
to what was going on, but my ruse was quickly discovered and my ignorance
was outed. It goes without saying that I was not the coolest kid
in that gym class (but I’m saying it anyway, since I’m forever conscious
of my word count minimums).
A few weeks later we switched
to soccer. I knew how to play soccer. I was going to be the soccer
champion! I stepped out onto that field
and chased that ball like a maniac. At one point, the biggest player
in the class was running for it. I ran for it as well, not fearing
for my personal safety. “Rrrraaaarrrrrrr!!!” I said. We
collided. I hit the ground. I broke my arm. I was excused from PE
for the rest of the semester.
But, no, my high school
experience is not the source of my dislike for watching football.
After all, I greatly enjoy bowling, but I’m
sure not going to sit there and watch that. The problem I have is
that when you’re watching football, you get four %$&@# seconds
of continuous action before the game stops. It’s extremely annoying.
And then you have to watch those four seconds again, and listen to
commentators analyze those four seconds, and then maybe a commercial
or two, and then they’re off to play another four seconds of the
game, or maybe three.
At least it’s not as bad
as hockey. In hockey they have to stop the game every few seconds
because a player broke the rules! I mean,
they’ve even got a special seat for players who violate them. Which
is not to say that I disapprove of athletes whacking each other with
hockey sticks, but, c’mon, these are professional players, why can’t
they remember the rules for more than a few seconds at a time? They
need to have Zero Tolerance Hockey. The referee will blow his whistle,
shake his head sadly, and say “Nope, sorry, you clearly haven’t
been studying the guidelines of this activity,” and kick the
player out of the game. Don’t even put him in the penalty box; make
him stand in the corner. Once one of the teams is down to their last
player (about 45 seconds into the game), the winner is determined
through Hockey Stick Mortal Kombat. This way, the hockey fans still
get their violence.
As I wrap up this column, though, I do have to admit that when I
got home from Universal Studios I turned on the Super Bowl. I even
got suitably offended when the commentators insisted that the only
reason the Buccaneers were winning was because the Raiders seemed
to have forgotten that there was a football game in progress.
Still, the Super Bowl doesn’t come close to a good adventure game.
Jeff Strand is the author of “Graverobbers Wanted (No Experience
Necessary).” He thinks you should buy it. Just go to http://www.hardshell.com and click on the “Science Fiction, Fantasy & Horror” link
on the left side of the screen, and then scroll down a little bit
until you see his book. Then buy a copy. It’s fun and rewarding.
Thank you for your patronage.
