The Infantile Fan’s of Sport… Yep, That’s Me
Some might label us die-hard sports fans as passionate. We bleed our team’s colors. If you dare make fun of our teams, or one of our star players, we become ornery and engage in flame wars at our favorite internet chat site. We gloat with glee when victory is ours, making it difficult to sleep as we can’t contain our smiles, rolling back and forth in bed. We seethe with anger when 
we suffer defeat making it difficult to sleep as we can’t contain our displeasure, rolling back and forth in bed.
Yes some might label us as passionate, but I believe we’re really friggin idiots who act like dumb-ass children, while our happiness and will to live depends solely on how a bunch of multimillionaires in colorful uniforms perform in a game that truly has no bearing on our everyday lives. Come on, admit it people, the truth will set you free.
Yes, admittedly, I am one of those dumb-ass children. And there wasn’t a bigger moron child in the world last night after the New York Football Giants defeated the Dallas Cowboys, 33 – 30 on a last second, Lawrence Tynes field goal. I watched nervously as Eli Manning put on a masterful drive to bring the G-men the length of the field in the final minute. You’d have sworn I had a spot on the bench. As the kick went through the uprights, I screamed and jumped for joy, only to see that Dallas coach (and man with an obvious healthy appetite) Wade Phillips called a timeout at the last possible second, nullifying the kick. I was furious, swearing at the tv while throwing an empty bag of beef jerky around in a hissy-fit of rage. My kids thought I should calm down, but since they don’t speak ‘cement’, I didn’t hear a word they were saying. But, as the story goes, Tynes succeeded on his second attempt to bury the ball between the neon yellow posts, as justice was served and the universe was righted once more. And yes, I danced like a giddy fool, the dance of self-righteous victory, the dance of a jackass with little redeeming value. Praise Jesus.
There are a handful of teams in this world where if you are not there fan, then you hate them more than Satan, Osama, Bin Laden, and a three hour Back Street Boys tv special all in one. The New York Yankees have to be the number one hated team in the world, without question. Like I said, if you’re not a fan of the Bronx Bombers, then it’s a good bet that the disdain you have for them is rampant. The person who was single-handedly responsible for that hate was the Boss of the Evil Empire, himself, General George Steinbrenner – a man with an ego ten times the size of Rosie O’donnell’s lunch box, with grotesque temper tantrums to match. He owned shipyards and who knows what else (thanks to his daddy), and he had money to burn, spending ridiculous amounts on star players, turning the Yankees into a venerable all-star line up. Smaller markets could never compete as the team in pinstripes hoisted one championship after another, infuriating baseball fans around the world. Btw… nice move on Randy Johnson, Georgie…NOT.
But a close second on the list is without question, the mucho hated and despised Dallas Cowboys. When I grew up in north Jersey in the early to mid-seventies, more kids wore Cowboys hats and jackets than Giants gear. New York was a crap team for a number of years and listening to all the little braggarts talk of Roger Staubach made me insane. And to this day, 
attend a Giants or Jets home game and you won’t believe the number of brazen slugs decked out in their silver and blue Cow-garb. Very disturbing.
And the city of Dallas certainly has the NFL’s very own version of Mr. Steinbrenner, who goes by the name of Jerry Jones. Jones is disgustingly, filthy rich and much like George, has no patience for being on the losing end of the final score. Money is no object, and neither is attitude and conduct, apparently as JJ brought in the likes of Terrell Owens and Pacman Jones, a couple of highly talented athletes with the all the endearing qualities head lice on a man with no arms. Jones is often seen parading the sidelines during a game, yuking it up with the players, and taking credit for a Sunday afternoon victory.
The biggest testament to Mr. Jerry Jones herculean ego is the newly built, Cowboys Stadium. It is the modern marvel of the sporting world and no expense was spared in creating the palace in Dallas. Some facts… It is the largest domed stadium in the world, with a retractable roof and can seat up to 111,000 people. It also has the world’s largest video screen, hanging from 20 yard line to 20 yard line, weighing one million, two-hundred thousand pounds. And if you watched last night, he even has painted hotties called ‘cage dancers’ to entertain the pigskin loving throng. As they say, everything really is bigger in Texas. Oh… and the construction price of Jerry World, you ask?… One point three billion dollars. And Mr. Jones was there last night, celebrating the stadium’s inaugural match-up of his beloved Cowboys against MY beloved New York Giants. And just wouldn’t you know it, that the junior Manning and his boys in blue spoiled the grand opening party for jolly Jerry – jiggling tarts in cages and all – by beating his boys in the final seconds. Oh… and may I please add how bad Tony Romo really did suck with his 29.6 passing rating. Boo f’n hoo, Jerry. (God, I am such an ass, and it is uncontrollable.)
And I must say, hats off to the New York Jets, who took down the New England Patriots, yesterday. The Pats have become the NFL’s scourge over the past few seasons as they were caught illegally filming opposing team’s signals. Coach Bill Belechick scoffed at the NFL’s fines and penalties by running up the score in games against lesser opponents and not really giving a damn what anyone thought. And when they faced the NY Giants in the Super Bowl two seasons ago, the hate grew high for New England and it truly seemed that if you weren’t a Patriots fan, you became a Giants fan in that game. And gosh… we all remember how that one turned out…don’t we?
So today I bask, and in my head, I am a happy soul. I have already littered the web forums with my childish bragging and taunting of Cowgirl fans everywhere. (Oops, silly me, I just did it again.) And if you are a Dallas fan, you hate my guts with an evil fervor, and perhaps wish to smack my Polak punk-ass around at the very moment. But I’m okay with that. It’s all a part of our wacky world of being a die-hard sports fan. I have been on the receiving end of this bragging torture many, many times and I can honestly say it is so much better when your team kicks some ass.
I might just decide to grow up one day… but just not today.
Have a great week, peeps,
Tommy Z
JR Cigars Blog With the Zman
