Sports "Experts"

I was downtown riding the subway last night minding my own business, when all of a sudden the doors slide open and I realize immediately that a hockey game has just ended at the Air Canada Centre. Hoards of loud, drunken, semi-intelligent, 20-something alpha-males pile on board and my quiet night vanishes.

"Here we go again," I thought, "give it about 7 seconds before any hint of intellectual conversation that might have been happening on this train is drowned out by this mob of hockey know-it-alls." Was I correct, you ask? Come on now, of course I was! I'm never wrong.

I just don't understand the appeal of sports talk. Some people can go on and on and on forever talking about something as trivial as a game. I'm looking in your direction, TSN. How can they do this and why would they want to? My God, just enjoy the game and move on with your life. I don't need hours of post-game commentary. Trust me, you're not doing me any favours by rattling off a bunch of scores and player names and sports jargon as I sit there gaping at you, trying to figure out what the hell you're talking about. It's just not important, Brock, it's just not important.

Remember, I'm talking about post-game here. I haven't touched on these walking sports encyclopedias that won't keep their comments to themselves during the game. God, if you do exist, I'm sorry I ever doubted your existence, yada, yada, but I beg you to make these people shut...the fuck...UP! Every 8 seconds, for Pete's sake, they've got to chime in with some meaningless piece of information about a random player.

And I think deep down they know it's meaningless. But they spout off these short bits of trivia anyway because they think other people will hear them and think, "Boy, this guy really knows his stuff." It's a status thing, nothing more. They won't admit it, but I think deep down all they want is for their dumb buddies to get on the phone with ESPN and rave. "Have you heard of my buddy? He really knows a lot about football. He does critiques of different plays and posts them on Youtube. They get ranked pretty high every time. He's really good. Can I give you his Youtube address?...Hello?...Hello?"

Just go home. You're not impressing anyone. Put the beer mug down, hang up the Cheeto-stained jersey, and get a damn job, Brock.