Monday, July 7, 2008

Fire Bill

Should I just change the name of the blog to that? It's hard to believe, but he's at it again. This one's from the Magazine, and it's little more than more nationally syndicated Boston-centric arrogance. Never before, has a fan seemed to take so much pride and credit in the accomplishments of a team. He talks about the Sox and Celtics World Championships as though he's accomplished something by having been born in Boston.

This entire article is about the fact that he's got "nowhere to go but down."

Remember when Hugh Grant was arrested for soliciting a prostitute while he was dating Elizabeth Hurley?

Hey Simmons, that happened on June 27, 1995. In case you're bad with numbers, that was over 13 years ago. No Bill Simmons, I do NOT remember tabloid pop-culture happenings from 13+ years ago. Well, actually I do... but I don't talk about them like they're recent news, or write entire articles centered around imaginary rules that I made up because of them.

At the time, I, like every other red-blooded male, tried to put myself in Hugh's sullied shoes.

Yeah Bill, we all did it. Thirteen years ago. Do you have a point? Lets just skip ahead to your 10+ year old imaginary rule. Maybe you can work a fantasy league joke into this. Or the Ewing Theory.

After climbing Mount Everest—"Hey, I have my pick of hotties!"—he simply couldn't figure out what to do next.

Dude... what's your problem with Divine Brown? Maybe Hugh wanted some dark meat. Is that so fucking bad? Or are you just appalled by this because she's black, and you're a typical Bostonian fucking racist? It was 13 years ago. Shut the fuck up.

What does any of this have to with anything?

I'm glad you asked, because you're starting to frustrate me.

In the days following an improbable Celtics title, two questions have gnawed at me:

Am I a homosexual? And does anyone, anywhere, actually like me anymore? Wishful thinking Mr. Six, wishful thinking.

1. Have I peaked as a sports fan?

No, you haven't. My Yankees won 4 championships from 1996-2000. My Giants just ruined the perfect season of your Patriots. And my Rangers broke their championship drought only a year or so before Hugh Grant hooked up with Divine Brown. There's no such thing as "peaking" as a sports fan... because a sports fan DOESN'T FUCKING DO ANYTHING. We drink beer and watch games. That's it. Fans don't hit free agency. We don't decline with age. WE'RE NOT ON THE FUCKING TEAM!!!!!

2. Am I headed for a Hugh/Divine moment?

Yes Bill, you are. You're going to go out tomorrow night, get drunk at some dive in Los Angeles and wake up next to someone who looks like this. There's nowhere to go but down for you... but that has nothing to do with your sports fandom or imaginary team-alliance. It's just because you're an asshole.

Remember, I'm a Sawx fan.

Jesus fucking Christ, Bill. Do you think anybody, anywhere has forgotten that? Especially if we still remember who Hugh Grant fucked 13+ years ago?

You know who's silently nodding their heads right now? New York Giants fans. They know they'll never beat the experience of rooting for a double-digit underdog that improbably terminated a bid for a perfect season in the Super Bowl.

I'm not nodding. I'm stifling the urge to vomit. The next time the Yankees win a championship, it'll be better than that Super Bowl. The next time any team I pull for wins a ring, it'll beat that Super Bowl... because it'll be happening "NOW" instead of "IN THE PAST." Whatever's happening in the present always feels sweeter than what's happened in the past. That's life.

And another thing, I love the Giants and the Yankees. I love the Knicks and Rangers too, but aren't there more important things in life? I do things in MY LIFE every day that beat "the experience of rooting for a double-digit underdog that improbably terminated a bid for a perfect season in the Super Bowl." A promotion at work beats the shit out of that. Taking my girlfriend to a Broadway show tops it. Dragging my little brother to his first Yankee game and smacking him in the head with a rolled up program until he stops insisting he's a Mets fan totally outranks it.

Point is, Bill, that we have real lives. We have marriages, divorces, births, deaths, taxes, rising gas prices and STDs. As great as it feels when one of my teams wins a championship, it's really not the biggest thing that happens in our lives in any given year. Our lives don't peak or crash based on a box score.

If yours does, maybe you should seek professional help. Like some kind of counselling or something.

And for the record, you don't have to worry about a Divine Brown moment. She wouldn't fuck you anyway. You think she's going to go from Hugh Grant to Bill Simmons?

Come on... the Cincinnati Bengals would have to win back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back Super Bowls for her to be due to crash to your level.

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