Articles

by Jeff Strand January 31, 2003

The Seriously Whacked Point of View "Another Kind of Game" by Jeff Strand

As a loyal resident of Tampa, I was absolutely thrilled that the Buccaneers went to the Super Bowl. Do you realize that this meant? No lines at Universal Studios Islands of Adventure! Woo-hoo! While everybody else was watching the kickoff, I was...well, around that time I was probably still stuck on the Cat in the Hat ride, which malfunctioned and trapped my wife and I for about twenty minutes in a car with a little girl, whose dreams of Seussian perfection have been shattered, and her father, who mentioned several times that he could really use a cocktail. That glitch aside, it was a wonderful day.

It probably won't surprise you to learn that I'm not a big football fan. This is not to say that I think football fanatics should get a life. After all, I waited in line for several hours to get opening-night tickets to The Phantom Menace and applauded with everybody else when Yoda kicked butt in Attack of the Clones, so I am perhaps not the best candidate to be lecturing people on how they should spend their time. As far as I'm concerned, if you want to cover yourself with body paint and wear those giant foam hands, go for it! I judge you not.

You might think that my dislike of football stemmed from my youth; notably my freshman year of high school, when I was assigned to flag football in PE. It was not a pleasant experience. This is not to say that I was the worst player in the class; I was, however, the worst male player in the class, which was a much more shameful position. But there was an even more devastating blow to my popularity. Our teacher, who was perhaps not the most ambitious physical education instructor our public education system had ever seen, basically ran the class by saying "Okay, go play some flag football." And I didn't know how.

I mean, I knew what the quarterback did. He was the guy who had no qualms about squatting behind another guy and reaching between his legs. But they didn't ask me to be quarterback. Instead, I was told to play some cryptic position, like Double Decker Halfback or something. I tried to walk to a spot on the field that looked appropriate for this position and pretend that I was paying extremely close attention to what was going on, but my ruse was quickly discovered and my ignorance was outed. It goes without saying that I was not the coolest kid in that gym class (but I'm saying it anyway, since I'm forever conscious of my word count minimums).

A few weeks later we switched to soccer. I knew how to play soccer. I was going to be the soccer champion! I stepped out onto that field and chased that ball like a maniac. At one point, the biggest player in the class was running for it. I ran for it as well, not fearing for my personal safety. "Rrrraaaarrrrrrr!!!" I said. We collided. I hit the ground. I broke my arm. I was excused from PE for the rest of the semester.

But, no, my high school experience is not the source of my dislike for watching football. After all, I greatly enjoy bowling, but I'm sure not going to sit there and watch that. The problem I have is that when you're watching football, you get four %$&@# seconds of continuous action before the game stops. It's extremely annoying. And then you have to watch those four seconds again, and listen to commentators analyze those four seconds, and then maybe a commercial or two, and then they're off to play another four seconds of the game, or maybe three.

At least it's not as bad as hockey. In hockey they have to stop the game every few seconds because a player broke the rules! I mean, they've even got a special seat for players who violate them. Which is not to say that I disapprove of athletes whacking each other with hockey sticks, but, c'mon, these are professional players, why can't they remember the rules for more than a few seconds at a time? They need to have Zero Tolerance Hockey. The referee will blow his whistle, shake his head sadly, and say "Nope, sorry, you clearly haven't been studying the guidelines of this activity," and kick the player out of the game. Don't even put him in the penalty box; make him stand in the corner. Once one of the teams is down to their last player (about 45 seconds into the game), the winner is determined through Hockey Stick Mortal Kombat. This way, the hockey fans still get their violence.

As I wrap up this column, though, I do have to admit that when I got home from Universal Studios I turned on the Super Bowl. I even got suitably offended when the commentators insisted that the only reason the Buccaneers were winning was because the Raiders seemed to have forgotten that there was a football game in progress.

Still, the Super Bowl doesn't come close to a good adventure game.

Jeff Strand is the author of "Graverobbers Wanted (No Experience Necessary)." He thinks you should buy it. Just go to http://www.hardshell.com and click on the "Science Fiction, Fantasy & Horror" link on the left side of the screen, and then scroll down a little bit until you see his book. Then buy a copy. It's fun and rewarding. Thank you for your patronage.