Thursday, November 24, 2011

Football: Fucked by the Zebra

The spirit of the game of American Football has been thoroughly fucked by the ability of intransigent assclowns to make senseless decisions based on observable facts.  A good example would be tonight's end-of-game personal foul call against Texas A&M for personal foul, helmet-to-helmet contact, wherein the supposed victim didn't even fall to the ground.  Such bullshit application of the rules turns the tides of games in favor of late game officiating, leads to less competitive sport, and generally de-emphasizes the original spirit of combativeness that drove the sport for the past 50 years.

To be perfectly clear, I feel that my libertarian leanings are vindicated one fucking mis-applied rule after another from market theory, to football, to local politics.  If we consider that a major crux of the argument against college playoff football is legacy games like aTm/ut then why are we not investigating the idea of conference location, consolidation, and scheduling when the tough choice to break with 118 year tradition has already been made out of fiduciary reasoning?

Why the fuck aren't we blocking conferences into 10-13 team regional groups by school size and feeding conference champs into a playoff series?  Not only do you see shorter travel times, more focus on education, and a higher drive to be individually successful, but also a pyramid of goal setting like that of collegiate basketball.

In conclusion, fuck the pants off of the idiot asshats calling the aTm/ut game tonight.  The outcome clearly did not represent the spirit of the game.  Also, fuck ut fans worldwide.  You are all bandwagon jumping asshats with no skin in the game, and nary an interest in the actual school, but only the fact that you are grew up when Texas was good and want to identify with the winningest team.  The worst of all fans are those that enjoy the reward with no effort and no pain, for they are the dumpster lickers, the sewer fuckers, the louse-infested, orphaned dogs of sporting joy.  A disgusting shame that they will never appreciate because only real fans know that pride and pleasure are a line bitterly tasted and sufficiently weathered.