Friday, November 8, 2013

LOVING A GAME?

HOW ABOUT THE PLAYERS?
Johann Wagener 11-8-13

The players and their families who, because of buying in to the "5 minutes of fame" line and a whole bunch of cash to distract them from the reality that they won't have much time to spend it (except maybe on a nursing home).

Games are not simulated war! In wars some of our very best leaders detested the violence but bit the bullet because they were not able to convince the other side to back off and went for the greater good.

Football, more than any other so-called game comes as close as you can to mimicking war.  Hang out in a locker room pre-game and listen in. It's hard to tell the difference between that rhetoric there and what goes on in a "war" room.

Americans will spend billions of dollars to treat themselves to an entertaining Monday Football Massacre, cheer and banter, and , as an added bonus, dream about throwing their children into the fray one day. Sort of like the ultimate Abraham sacrifice for the love of the game?

There's many American's that won't hesitate to say "I love the game" "God bless Football"

Some would excuse that as just misguided logic but, considering the real damage this "game" inflicts  on others just for entertainments sake (or maybe $). I'd call it for what it is; just plain crazy!




A football game is reminiscent of the Battle of Manassas at the start of the Civil War. The Washington elite thought it would be a fund day on the filed watching the Blues take on the Greys on their home turf. So, they dragged out the blankets and picnic baskets and plunked themselves right on the field breathlessly waiting for the action to begin. Needless to say they did experience some action, but not what they expected. The bodies (both  Blues and Greys) started to fall when the lead began flying. The flags fell along with the bugles, and everyone, including the picnickers ran for their lives;

Ok! Only a few were that close. Most of them were at least smart enough to keep a 5 mile distance from the action.

It is a popular, almost legendary, story that innumerable civilians armed with picnic baskets followed the Union Army out from Washington in July 1861 to watch what everyone thought would be the climactic battle of a short rebellion. These naïve citizens, the tale goes, then impeded the Union retreat, adding to the panic.



Sorry, I digress for a moment. Let's get back to Monday night at the Game. Anything sound familiar?

The field, the guys in colored uniforms? Most of the fans many miles away in front of the HD Flat nursing their favorite brewsky. Much safer than Manassa for them at least. So let the carnage begin. Some will sit there for hours once or more a week to catch about 15 minutes of watching and cheering people beating themselves up ala "Gladiator."

Both the media and the medical profession like to refer to the brain "damage" as a disease. As if it's some sort of genetic defect or bug when what it's really all about is one 300 lb guy pounding another s guys head into the ground.           How entertaining! Just love that game. Really?