One of the best days of my life, was the day that I stopped pretending to care about sports. I never truly cared, but when you grow up in a large athletically oriented family, you kind of feel like you have to. Imagine yourself as an impressionable child, desperate to fit in and be accepted, and your whole family is gathered around a T.V., shouting encouragement at the men on screen. What are you going to do? Go in the other room and read a book, thus marking yourself as the black sheep for all to see?  No.  You’re going to yell at that fucking T.V. — “Woo hoo! Go Brown Team! Throw that ball fellas.” — At that age, you’re a follower. It doesn’t matter what you’re heart tells you, you are caving to peer pressure, almost instantly.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy sports. I just don’t understand how people become so emotionally invested in the outcome  that it actually effects their mood. It confuses me to see angry Facebook or Twitter posts when the Indians lose a game. A bunch of millionaires, who don’t give a shit about you, lose a game that is virtually meaningless, and this upsets you?  And upsets you so much that you feel the need to whine on a public forum? Beyond being a vague cry for attention, I don’t get it. And believe me, I totally understand vague cries for attention. What do you think this blog is?

Honestly, why should I care about sports? Pride for my birthplace? Like a territorial dispute? I’m pretty sure that sort of logic has been the basis for every war and/or genocide ever started. Think I’m exaggerating? Then you’ve obviously never been to a Browns tailgate when two guys in Steelers jerseys come walking through. They may as well have swastikas tattooed to their faces. They would receive no worse a welcome if they did, I assure you that.

If I’m truly going to care about sports, they’re going to have to up the stakes a little bit.  Have our athletes play like the Ancient Mayans used to: losing team gets executed? There’s an intense Super Bowl. I can promise you that game isn’t ending 43-8. Peyton’s gonna be legging a few more out.

You wouldn’t hear any complaints about concussions either. The quarterback’s in the huddle, like “I don’t care if there’s a ringing in your ears, Brian. I don’t care if there’s a whole god damn marching band in your head. If you don’t start picking up your blocks, we’re all going to get shot in the face. Now, put your back in to it.”

Athletes are basically modern day gladiators anyway, right? They just happen to be born in a century that doesn’t glorify murder…well…not openly, at least. Guns have made it unnecessary for people to be big and fast in order to excel in combat. Two thousand years ago, guys like LeBron or Dwight Howard weren’t meeting at center court. They were meeting in the middle of a battlefield, and one of them was leaving with an ax buried in his skull.

I’ll allow your imagination to decide which one…but I bet I can guess.