I got into such a big argument last night, you guys. I was just minding my own business at
my home The Spot, watching the Green Bay/Seattle “clash” (I put it in quotations because JESUS CHRIST WHAT A TERRIBLE GAME) and eating a burger when a debate opened up.
In this corner, your hero, a dick joke enthusiast with a career life record of 121-122-3, representing the merits of having NFL officials who know the rules and can actually pontificate upon them (note: DOES NOT MEAN URINATE OR DEFICATE; don’t need an “Alanis Morrisette – Ironic” issue happening here), a believer in the idea that sometimes the people who know what they’re talking about actually do know what they’re talking about, the FOOL-ah from Mis-SOULA, MAGIC SAM!
And in the far corner, wearing dark jeans with white tennis shoes, an unfortunate mustache, and a face that looks alternately like the surface of the moon and your correspondent’s ballsack, neighbor to your correspondent, The Jolly Rodger Bill-Dodger, JIM, SOME GUY IN A BAR!
The Bunk has asked me on numerous occasions why I insist upon arguing with the mouth-breathers in online comments sections and message boards. The fact is, I enjoy it. I like revving them up, making them spin, pissing them off to a point where their points get lost in translation because they’re just so damn angry. But last night, it was something different.
You see, I learned something last night. And this something I learned put the entire NFL referee situation into perspective for me. Inadvertently, it put everything else in perspective too; from politics to team rooting interests. [Read more…]